Those eyes would be beneath me every night. Every morning. Every lifetime, if the prophecy meant anything at all.
Oh, I could smell her heat.
I could smell everything now.
My senses roared with life—sharper, hungrier, impossible to ignore. I heard her swallow. Listened to the tiny hitch in her breath—the subtle flutter of her pulse just beneath the skin of her throat.
But most intoxicating of all—her sweet scent pooling warm between her thighs.
I didn’t need to look under the table to know her legs were clamped together like an iron vice. Her body was preparing for us. For me.
My father had insisted I choose a bride.
Well, I had found one.
And she was far more than he could have dreamed for me—
A daughter of Clan Donald no less. The prophecy had come full circle.
A flame-blooded Highland rose.
My mate.
My wife.
My destiny.
Let her eat. Build her strength. Because once I am inside her, I will not be leaving.
Mate.
Marry.
Breed.
Stuff her full at every turn. Fill her until she forgets her own name and remembers only mine.
She won’t be working in my home anymore.
Oh no.
She will have one task soon—and it will be done with her seated on my—
Lure her upstairs, Wulfric begged, pacing with manic urgency.Send the uncle away. Take her. Claim her.
Her family was a… complication.
Wulfric paced and snarled like a caged beast, frantic and half-mad with instinct. He knew the mating ritual spanned days. He knew time was slipping. He wasn’t thinking straight.
Me?
I played to win.
Especially now that I understood the stakes—and the prize.
She hid her eyes from me.
But the tremor in her dainty hands gave her away.
