Claimed by the Wolf Prince Read Free Page A

mercy and begging you to release me?”
    â€œNone whatsoever. Your foolish father broke faith with us, and all the Highlands must see that he is duly punished.” Looking at her, holding herself tight as if she would break if she let go, Struan felt a foolish urge to do as she asked. This was not her doing. The laird deserved to pay the price, not his innocent daughter.
    He straightened his shoulders and touched his fingers to his amulet. It wasn’t the first time he’d had cause to question the ancient ways, but for now he must be content to uphold them. It was too soon after his election as Alpha to contemplate change, nor to allow emotion to interfere with duty. He would not tolerate such weakness in the members of his pack. Of a certainty he must not display it himself. “Come,” he said curtly, holding out his hand, “there is no more to be said. With luck, we’ll be on Kentarra by nightfall.”
    Â 
    White horses foamed on the crest of a heavy swell as Struan pushed the little clinker-built sgoth out to sea, leaping lithely aboard as the water lifted the hull from the sand. The wind tugged the sail as soon as he released it, making the boat surge forward.
    Iona, who had only ever sailed in the calm of a summer’s day, clutched the wooden seat as the little craft dipped and climbed in the ever-deepening swell. Across from her, Struan, perched casually in the stern, seemed quite unconcerned, holding the tiller straight, gazing off into the distance. “Where is Kentarra, I can’t see it?” she asked nervously, looking at the empty ocean.
    â€œIt is there, if you know where to look,” he replied with an enigmatic smile. An icy spray arched over them. “Pull the fur around you, it will keep you warm.”
    As she did as he bid her, Iona allowed her gaze to linger on her captor’s half-naked body. His long black hair streamed out behind him, his muscles rippling as he fought to hold course. He looked like part of the landscape, a force of nature. His rawanimal power, though constrained, was there nonetheless. He made her feel as if she should hold her breath. Waiting. Watching. Wondering all the time, if he would unleash it. Looking out at the fast-diminishing land, down at the deep, dark ocean, she realised she was in every way completely out of her depth. Her patent vulnerability disturbed her, but not as much as it should. She should be frightened but she didn’t know quite how to describe how she felt. Nervous. Tense. Reckless. A little wild. And excited, too, there was no denying it. The boat rocked as it crested a particularly high wave, and she clutched anxiously at the sides.
    â€œTry to get some rest,” Struan said.
    â€œRest! How can I rest when I’ve been kidnapped and am being taken to some Godforsaken island against my will, to suffer who knows what barbaric indignities?” Iona muttered. But she dropped down into the hull and curled up, pulling the furs tight around her.
    â€œGo to sleep, Iona,” Struan said, “I am many things but I am no barbarian.”
    His voice was like his fur cloak—warm and comforting. It made no sense, given the circumstances, but she believed him, though she saw no need to tell him so. A man less in need of reassurance she had never met. Not a man, a Faol, she reminded herself as her lids grew heavy. She should be on her guard. And she would be, as soon as they landed. She would be. Iona dozed off.
    Struan watched over her as she slept. Her hair was like burnished copper now that it had dried. Her mouth tilted up naturally, as if she smiled often. Such a slight thing she was, but she had a strength of will most unusual in mortals. Taming her would be an interesting challenge, for unlike the rest of her kind, she did indeed seem to be quite impervious to the Faol in him. It would be a delight, pleasuring her. A delight, the dance she would lead him. It would make her final surrender all