Highland Moon #6: BBW Scottish Werewolf Shifter Romance E-Book

Mac Flynn

• Herausgeber: Crescent Moon Studios, Inc.
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

The enemies of Muira and her laird lover are on the march and something foul lingers in the air of the woods northeast of the castle as the pair prepare for battle. Muira must find the strength inside herself to vanquish her fear and her human enemies in order to save the werewolf laird she loves. Identities are revealed and desire is quenched as she finds herself in the thick of trouble in one final confrontation with the Menzies clan, and the enemies of her laird.

Leseprobe

Highland Moon #6

BBW Scottish Werewolf Shifter Romance

Mac Flynn

Copyright © 2019 by Mac Flynn

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Continue the adventure

Other series by Mac Flynn

1

Strange was my life, but never was it so strange as when I stood in the room of my deceased mother-in-law dressed in my bridal gown while my husband and an acquaintance who proclaimed to be his father faced off against each other.

Bruce stood tall and straight as he looked at Tristan with an unwavering gaze. Neither of us could doubt his sincerity, but we could doubt his sanity. My eyes widened at such a proclamation, but Tristan’s narrowed and he balled his hands into fists at his sides as he glared at Bruce.

“How dare you-”

“I dare because I know the truth, and the truth is that you are a bastard,” Bruce insisted.

Tristan let out a roar and lunged at Bruce. This time Bruce didn’t move. He stretched out his arm and caught Tristan by his neck. My laird and husband was held aloft in front of the man while his captor frowned at him. Tristan grabbed Bruce’s single hand with both of his and tried to free himself, but Bruce’s hold was stronger. My husband kicked and flailed, but could not free himself.

“Tell me, what do your senses say of me?” Bruce questioned Tristan.

“They tell me not to believe a were-wolf who has intruded on my territory,” Tristan choked out.

“Then you ignore them. They tell you we are of the same blood, but if you need proof-” Bruce reached out with his freed hand and sliced open one of Tristan’s sleeves with his long claws. In so doing he cut Tristan deep in his arm, and blood drizzled out of the wound. I rushed to the front of Bruce and grasped his weapon-like arm.

“Please release him!” I pleaded as I tugged on his arm. I caught his eyes with my own. “If you truly are his father you will free him!”

Bruce pursed his lips, but he did as I pleaded and opened his hand. Tristan dropped to the ground in a mass of flesh. I rushed to his side and grasped his shoulders as he sat up. Tristan rubbed his neck and glared at my guest.

“Leave my domain,” he growled.

Bruce closed his eyes and shook his head. “Must I lead you by the hand along the path of truth?”

Tristan scoffed at him. “I know not your truth, but I do-”

“Be still, and watch,” Bruce ordered him.

Bruce raised one hand and with his other he sliced open a wound on his opposite arm as he had done with Tristan. Blood flowed freely, and Bruce held the arm towards us.

“What does the blood tell you, Laird Campbell?” Bruce questioned him.

Tristan frowned, but I noticed his nostrils flared as he smelled the scent. I, too, smelled the sweet nectar of honey in high summer that was the scent of Tristan’s blood. My surprise lay in the same scent being found in Bruce’s blood.

“Your scent is the same as mine, but it is a mere matter of sorcery to change the smell,” Tristan argued.

Bruce dipped a finger into the stream of blood and held out his digit to us. “Then would you taste the flavor? Would you have me carved me into a million pieces? Examined by a thousand witches? And then would you be satisfied that I am your father?”

Tristan stood and shook his head. “No, but I would have you examined by one witch,” he suggested.

Bruce bowed his head. “Then I will submit to your trial.”

Tristan turned to me and clasped our hands together. “Fetch Ciardha. I believe she is among the guests.”

“But what of you?” I whispered as my eyes flickered to Bruce.

Bruce chuckled. “He will have no more to fear from me, lovely Andra,” he assured me.

Tristan glared at him. “Do not speak to my wife as though you are familiar.”

“But we are familiar, and I think of the name as very complimentary,” Bruce argued.

I caught Tristan’s eyes and smiled. “He once saved me from ruffians in front of the inn,” I whispered to him.

Tristan turned to Bruce. “Is this true?”

“Do you doubt the word of your lady?” Bruce returned.

I pecked a kiss on Tristan’s cheek that caught his attention and squeezed Tristan’s hands. “I will return shortly.”

We reluctantly parted, and I hurried from the chamber and down the passage. The entrance hall was still crowded, and all manner of people stood in groups or walked from room to room. I leaned over the banister and searched the crowds for the one person I wished to meet.

“Are you in search of me, my beautiful cousin?” a voice spoke up to my left.

I started and swung around to find Seumas close beside me. His face held his unusual grin, and there was a brightness in his eyes that I did not appreciate as he looked me over.

“You look stunning, my cousin,” he complimented me.

“I thank you, but I cannot stay to talk. I must find someone,” I told him.

I turned to hurry down the stairs, but he slipped in front of me and bowed to me. “Might I help?” he offered.

“No, that is quite all right. I am sure I will find her,” I assured him.

“A ‘she?’” he commented. I felt the color drain from my face as he raised his eyes to mine. “And who might she be?”

I grasped the railing to my left and stepped away from him. “No one of consequence, but I really must be going,” I insisted.

I tried to step past him, but Seumas caught my left arm and looped his through mine. “I won’t let a young lady in such obvious distress be left alone.”

“And I tell you I am in no need of assistance,” I reminded him as I tried to free myself, but his gentle grip was firm and unmoving.

“Do not be so difficult, my cousin,” he scolded me as he led me to the top of the stairs. “Two pairs of eyes will more quickly find your lady friend than one.” He leaned close to my face and I cringed away from the terrible smile. “Perhaps the woman friend concerns the gentleman in whose company I saw you just a few minutes before.”

I shook my head. “I do not know-”

“Of course you do, but come, let us begin the hunt,” he commanded me.

I recalled Tristan’s warning of this foe who was wrapped around my arm. My own feelings towards him were ones of repugnance and fear. Tristan would not come to my rescue, but there was another who had promised help when I needed it.

“Leod. . .” I whispered under my breath.

Seumas straightened and moved us to the top of the stairs so we looked over the crowd. “Now where shall we-”

Hurried movement through the crowds caught my attention, and my heart thrilled as I noticed Leod rush from the dining hall. He paused for only a moment to look around before he noticed us at the top of the stairs. Leod raced up the stairs and bowed to us.

“My lady, you are needed,” he told me.

Seumas frowned. “For what?” he questioned the servant.

“Aili the cook wishes to see my lady,” Leod explained.

“Then we shall go-”