Rhys entered the bedroom, carrying a large box. “I’ve got it. Just as you ordered.”
“Good. Now if you don’t mind, please put it on the table in the reading nook.” He pointed to the alcove near in the corner.
“Will there be anything else?”
“Just one thing. Go and enjoy the rest of the day, even if that means roaming the grounds in wolf form. Once Dad arrives, things will get hectic.”
“Are you sure about that?” Rhys removed his formal jacket before undoing its matching bowtie.
“Aye. There are no strangers here at the moment so I don’t see why you can’t enjoy being wolf for a bit.” He waved his brother away.
“Until later, bro.”
Rhys ran into the hall just as Vidar made his presence in the doorway. “Feeling better Highlander?”
“I’ve been better for two weeks.”
“Then why are you still in bed laying around like a baby?” The Viking strutted over to one of the light blue chairs at the foot of the bed and plopped his hulky form into the oversized seat. “No good warrior stays down when he is capable of walking this good earth.”
“Tell that to Miranda. To Dr. Kendrick.”
Vidar chuckled. “You are so screwed dude.”
“Verra funny. Now I know the two of you are in cahoots. What else has she been teaching you other than English slang?”
“Your woman is a good soul. She means well, that’s all.”
“There’s a box on the table in the corner.” He nudged his chin toward the alcove. “It’s a gift for you. For saving my life.”
Vidar rose and approached the table. “If Katya had told me years ago, that I would make friends with a skirt wearer, I would have challenged my sister to a friendly, but good fight.” He lifted the lid off the box. “My very own skirt.” He spun around, placed his hand over his heart. “I am touched, Callen. Truly.”
“I’m glad. But please, it’s a kilt. K. I. L. T. If you’re going to wear it, at least call it buy its proper name.”
“It matches yours.”
“Yes. I had it made from MacHendrie tartan. I figured after you saved my life…and protected Miranda…I had better accept the fact that you are indeed part of this family. You may be a Viking, but you are also welcome in my pack.”
The hulky warrior scooped up the box and stomped over to the bed. “You are a good man, Callen. I am honored to be a part of your pack. But no telling Mortimer. That vampire has been lecturing me to soften my heart for too long and I’m not ready to tell him he was right about that.”
“Trust me, I won’t tell my uncle anything. But you really should make friends with him. He is your brother-in-law, for Pete’s sake.”
“Maybe for Katya, I will ease up on the man. Speaking of which, I actually came to say goodbye.”
“You’re leaving Wolfsden?”
“I must. I’ve inherited all of my uncle Rorik’s estate, including his properties in New Orleans. That is why I was in Copenhagen, to settle the legal side of things. It is also why I was able to get the information on Jarle and Dr. Kendrick. I inherited all of Rorik’s records, as well as his good-for-nothing troops. At least they proved useful in helping me learn about Jarle. I might need to keep a few of them around. Now I’m off to Louisiana to see what I own and what I want to do with it all.”
“Rorik the Rotten also held vast properties here in Europe,” Callen said. “He had an immense portfolio.”
“Aye and they’re all mine now, but I want Katya to have what she wants, as well. My uncle was a bloody bastard toward my sister, she deserves to be paid for what he did to her.”
He didn’t like the idea of Vidar leaving. They should have become friends long ago. “Well, I don’t believe in keeping a man from his destiny. But remember, if I can do anything for you, I’m here. And I expect to see you at Christmas.”
Vidar nodded, then patted him on the shoulder and headed for the door, boxed kilt in hand. “Stay safe, Highlander.”
Staying safe wasn’t going to be a problem with Dr. Kendrick dictating his every move. The wumman was stifling him. Tossing off the sheets he rose from the bed and stretched. God, but it felt good to walk around.
An undone curtain hook caught his attention near the end of the velvet drapes framing the bed. He reached up and placed it back on the wood rod.
“What are you doing?” Miranda called from behind him.
“Fixing the curtain.”
“I can see that. Now get back into bed.”
He huffed. “You do realize I will one day be Alpha of my father’s pack. Right?”
“And your point?” She pulled the covers up to his waist, then straightened his t-shirt.
“Alphas do not take orders from…anyone.”
“I’m not anyone.”
Vidar was right. He was verra screwed.
Miranda reached for the pillow behind his head.
“Hey, I was comfortable with that one.”
She fluffed it and then put it back. “Your father will be here in a few hours and I don’t want him to think I can’t keep his castle clean and looking nice.”
“My father is not concerned with appearances, trust me.” He wasn’t looking forward to telling his Alpha what went down with Jarle. “He is, however, going to be pissed that I let that Viking witch on his land.”
“You can blame me. After all, it was my locket that allowed Jarle access to Wolfsden.”
“Speaking of lockets, where did you find my mother’s?”
“I didn’t find it, actually. She sent it to me.”
Callen raised an eyebrow.
“It just fell from one of the crates. I believe your mother wanted me to find it when it appeared. That’s why I took it and used it to barter with Jarle. I thought it was what she would have wanted. To save you.” She wrapped a strand of her long, coppery hair around her forefinger. “Was your mother really once engaged to that vile Viking?”
“I fear so. But thank God my uncle Mortimer had the good sense to introduce her to my father.”
“Good thing indeed. Or you wouldn’t be here.” She joined him on the bed.
He pulled her down next to him and nipped at her ear.
“I don’t think you’ve healed enough for sex yet,” she said.
“It’s been two weeks, wumman. I don’t even have a scar anymore.” He reached for Miranda’s t-shirt and had it off her in seconds, her jeans followed, as did his own t-shirt and shorts. “I know my body and it’s feeling fine.”
“That salve was never tested before I used it on you. I won’t take any chances with it not having healed you completely.”
He flipped her onto her back and settled between her thighs. “Trust me. If we don’t do this now, we won’t get the chance to do it in peace for a while. The pack travels with my father and they lodge at Wolfsden. Privacy will be non-existent once they get here. Which means this place is going to become something akin to a fraternity house in a few hours.”
“I can’t believe it will be that bad. You’re exaggerating.”
The poor wumman hadn’t a clue what was to come. But for now he could make her feel pretty damn good. Callen leaned forward and ran his tongue along Miranda’s neck.
His hands cupped her right breast. The feel of her rosy, pink nipple growing hard under his palm, made his cock stiff.
Callen pulled back and eyed his lovely mate.
Miranda’s red hair spilled over the pillows. He was never going to get enough of staring at his beautiful little thief. “I love seeing you in our bed.”
“I love being here.”
He caressed her nipple once more with his palm before bringing her breast closer to his lips. Dipping his head, he took one swollen bud into his mouth and sucked. Hard.
She moaned. “Whatever you do, don’t stop that.”
He nipped at her nipple.
“Oh…Callen…”
With his free hand, he trailed his fingers down her side, over her inner thigh and up t
o her clit. The musky scent of her arousal forced a growl from his throat.
~~~~~~~
Nothing felt as good as the weight of Callen’s body on top of hers. Gliding her hands down her mate’s back, Miranda settled her fingers on Cal’s firm backside and pulled him closer.
He obliged by sliding his cock into her slit.
The thick girth of him stretched her, filled her to the core. She couldn’t imagine life without Callen MacHendrie at her side. She loved her wolf.
He continued working her nipple.
“Marry me, Miranda.”
“If you think you’re going to get away with not going down on one knee, you are sorely mistaken.”
“But I’m asking in a velvet-draped, four-poster medieval bed.”
“I should have never told you about my bed fantasy.”
He pulled his mouth from her taut peak, stretching the swollen bud before releasing it. “I promise to get down on one knee as soon as I can. But in the meantime, are you really going to keep me waiting for your answer?”
“I want a huge wedding.”
“Say yes to marrying me and you can have anything.”
“I thought you hated weddings?”
He gave her a huge grin. “Not anymore. In fact, I’m looking forward to our first dance.”
“I didn’t know you danced.”
“I don’t. But I want to with you.”
She bucked her hips against his.
“Don’t do that, wumman.”
“Don’t talk, Alpha.”
He groaned.
She gyrated a second time, loved the feel of him inside her.
Callen got the message and thrust forward. He drove himself deep, filled her to the point where she didn’t think she could take more.
As he pulled out and then repeated the thrust, a glorious spasm rocked Miranda’s body.
A slight howl escaped her lips.
Her wolf.
Callen had not only saved her life; he’d saved her soul.
Being mated was a wondrous thing. “I’m yours, Callen. Me and my wolf. For all eternity.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Absolutely.”
~~o0o~~o0o~~~~o0o~~o0o~~
Thank you for purchasing DARK WOLF. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Shifters of Dundaire Series:
Dark Wolf – novella 1 (Callen’s story)
Christmas Wolf – novella 2 (Rhys’s story)
Viking Wolf – novella 3 (Vidar’s story)
Highland Wolf – novella 4 (Bane’s story, coming in 2017)
Blood Wolf – prequel (Mortimer and Katya, coming in 2017)
Welcome to Dundaire, Scotland, a magickal city that doesn't appear on any map, where kilt-wearing, immortal Highlanders are plentiful, and where romance and danger brew daily...
When Highland wolf Rhys MacGregor goes in search of the perfect tree-topper for Wolfsden Keep's eighteen-foot-tall tree for the pack's Christmas Eve ball, he ends up rescuing a cat who turns out to be more than he ever imagined.
While out in a blizzard keeping an eye on Rhys MacGregor, feline shapeshifter and banshee Greer O'Keene is rescued by the hot Scot. But as the woman assigned to take Rhys's soul, the last thing she expects is to fall in love with him. Now she's determined to keep her wicked banshee stepsisters away from Rhys long enough so she can change his fate.
Can destined love outsmart dark magick?
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About the Author:
Angelique Armae is a native New Yorker who loves all things royal, can trace her Irish roots back to the Scottish Highlands, is half Italian, and is owned by a long-haired Tuxedo cat. She spends most days writing, unless her cat deems otherwise.
Website: http://www.angeliquearmae.com
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Christmas Wolf
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About the Author
Dark Wolf Page 11