By Marguerite Kaye
Scottish Highlands, 1700
Legend tells of a extended family of fierce warriors, the Faol, who've mastered the spirit of the wolf residing within them. they're famed for his or her ability in battle—and for his or her impossible to resist attract to mortal women...
It is an allure fiery Iona McKinley studies firsthand whilst she is taken via Prince Struan Tolmach, Lead Alpha of the Faol. His contact is exciting and arousing...but she's destined to be claimed through one other warrior. Will Struan possibility wasting his extended family to maintain Iona for himself?
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Additional info for Claimed by the Wolf Prince
You are descended from wolves,” she whispered. “Why should I be drawn to you? ” Struan’s laugh was more like a low growl. He leaned towards her, to nuzzle the pulse at her throat, and felt the direct connection between her scent and his shaft. He was immediately hard. Full. Potent. ” She knew she was playing with fire, but she could not resist fanning the flames. She could see, from the way his pupils were dilated, that he felt the same. Her skin was all goose bumps. Her lips tingled with the memory of his kiss.
What fate awaited her at the hands of the fabled wolf-clan? Now, she truly was afraid. Another shudder wracked her body. It hit her then, hard, as it had not when first he had revealed himself. Struan was not just a formidable, forbiddingly attractive man. He was a Faol. Oh, dear heavens, what was to become of her? Struan was considering that very question as he steered the sgoth straight at the towering cliffs. It was the way of things, but still it didn’t seem right to give her no choice in the matter, any more than it seemed right that he could not choose to claim her for his own.
She could not help wishing he had spoiled her well and truly for Kenneth McIver. The mattress was feather-soft. The sheets were crisp, scalloped with lace, not a darn nor a sign of wear on them. The blankets were lamb’s wool. The bed seemed to wrap itself around her, cocooning her. As the events of the last twenty-four hours finally caught up with her, Iona fell into a deep sleep. She awoke at dawn and, wrapping a blanket around her, wandered round the chamber, admiring the tapestries. Scenes of battle mostly, but in one there was a tempest, a bairn in a rush basket.