Publication date: April 19th, 2022
Synopsis:
Hella is one witch who is done with relationships. Having rid herself of a clingy nymph, she's determined to stay single and savour everything her fae town in Geneva has to offer--with no strings attached. The trouble is, it turns out breaking up with a king isn't as easy as she'd thought. Her ex just sent a legion to kidnap her and take her to the faerie realm of Lucia.
And he wants to make her his queen.
Grant MacKinnon is one wolf shifter who prefers a quiet life. His home in a glen in Scotland, his small wolf pack, and fine whisky is all he needs. The trouble is, a witch in the fae town in Fort William just cursed him to die if he doesn't find his fated mate and bring her to her. Now he craves a female he's never met, one he was convinced didn't exist, and he refuses to believe she's really his one true mate... until he sets eyes on the beautiful blue-haired lass.
And his wolf instincts howl that she was made for him.
And when he realizes she's in danger and another male wants her as his queen, MacKinnon will stop at nothing to protect her and claim her as his mate.
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Excerpt
She stormed to the chair in the corner of the room, picked up his jeans and turned on him. She glared at him as she threw the jeans, hitting him in the face. He dragged them down, a stupid dumbfounded look on his face.
One that told her he couldn't see what he had done wrong.
And he couldn't believe she wasn't doing as he wanted.
"Get out," she snapped and flung her arm towards the bedroom door. "And never come back here."
He growled, "I cannae do that. If I leave, I die."
Color her curious.
He pulled down a breath and his lips flattened, and he looked as if he was fighting himself.
When he spoke again, his tone was softer, his brogue less pronounced.
"If you don't give me release, I die, Hella. You must accept me." He cast a glance at his hips and then lifted his gaze to lock with hers again. "I'll be gentle with you, if that's what you fear."
Hella rolled her eyes. "I had lion twins splitting me in two the other day. I don't need a gentle man."
He growled again, flashing his fangs this time, and tensed as he fisted his clothing. "How many males have ye accepted into your wee body? It matters no'. You'll bed no more."
His accent seemed to be an emotional barometer. The more heated he got, the less understandable he became. She was tempted to roll her eyes at him again to see just how deep into his Scottish roots she could push him.
"I'll do what I want and who I want, and if you try to stop me--" She hesitated as the way he had reacted to the shackles filled her mind. She didn't want to torment him like that again. Maybe she could try something else.
If he wouldn't leave, then she would make him.
She pivoted on her heel and swept away from him, her shoulders tipped back and her head held high, the perfect image of a witch one would be wise not to mess with. The wolf's gaze scalded her back, tracking down to her bottom, and he loosed a low, sexy growl.
Hella refused to let it affect her.
The wolf was about to be shown the door and if he had any sense, he would take the hint and leave her alone. She had her own problems to deal with and every second she wasted on the wolf was a second Ethyrian drew closer to realizing she had escaped Lucia.
She hurried down the stairs to her shop.
The wolf followed.
Still naked.
Hella huffed as she glanced at him and he leaned against the wall, folded his arms across his chest and crossed his ankles. Shameless male.
"Put some clothes on," she snapped and tried to shut him out as she unlocked a case behind the counter and plucked a book from the shelves.
When she turned back towards the counter, her gaze collided with his.
He grinned salaciously at her, irritatingly sure of himself while she was flustered and unsteady, rattled by his presence. "You don't want that. I can see in your eyes you want me, lass. I can smell that you need your male."
Hella gagged. "Gross."
And diligently kept her eyes off the impressive hard-on he was still sporting as he pushed away from the wall and stalked towards her.
He was far too big.
If she did accept him, as he kept putting it, he would split her in two.
She was just considering possible spells that would help her get around that when his knees gave out, he went down hard and clocked his jaw on the edge of the wooden counter.
Ruining his carefully affected image of confidence and swagger.
Hella resisted the urge to peer over the counter and check on him, and continued leafing through the book instead as she dryly said, "Have a nice trip? Send me a postcard next time."
The wolf's arm shot up from behind the counter, his hand slammed down onto it and he hauled himself up. He growled as he shook off the blow to his ego but he looked groggy, which worried her.
Was he telling her the truth about the curse?
Would he really die if she didn't add him to the tally of notches on her bedpost?
She intended to find out the answer to both of those questions.
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