Claimed by the Wolf Prince Read Free Page B

the sweeter.
    His manhood stirred into life again. The wolf in him whispered seductively. Take her. Take her now. She is yours to do with as you please. But as ever, the man in him prevailed. She was not his. She belonged to the clan.
    He touched his amulet. It should be enough, knowing he had successfully avenged the betrayal. Enough, knowing he had passed his first major test following the recent and hard-fought battle for power. Simply handing over the female slumbering under his cloak should be a straightforward task, after all he had endured of late.
    But it was not proving to be so.
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    â€œWake up, we’re almost there.”
    Iona sat up, momentarily confused as to her whereabouts until the rocking of the boat and the slap of the waves confirmed the unpalatable reality. She looked around her in the gathering gloom at the empty sea. “I can’t see any island. I can’t see anything.”
    As she spoke, a huge bank of fog rolled ominously in, completely enveloping the boat. Just as suddenly as it had arrived, the fog cleared.
    â€œKentarra,” Struan said solemnly, “sovereign kingdom of the Faol.”
    Iona caught her breath. A vast wall of sheer cliffs, so tall they seemed to touch the sky, rose dramatically from the sea, above which seabirds soared and swooped, their plaintive cries like the wailing of the damned. The rock was scarred with deep fissures reflecting the dying embers of the sun, so that the whole cliff seemed to be on fire, a myriad of colours, crimson and carmine, flaming gold and bright vermillion, edged with ochre and umber, beneath which a darker, glittering jet leant an ominous hue. The reflected rays danced and sparkled on the surface of the water. Behind thecliffs, the island sloped gradually down to the sea, the moorland on the plateau heavily wooded, the lower slopes vibrant green and impossibly lush, the white sandy shores inviting. “It’s magnificent,” she said softly, quite awestruck by Kentarra’s captivating beauty.
    Struan nodded proudly. “It is indeed a special place. Be warned though, you will find it quite unlike what you are accustomed to.”
    As he spoke, the sun dipped below the foaming sea, causing an eerie gloom to descend like a cloak on the isle. The air felt portentous. Iona shuddered involuntarily. Her homeland, her kin, all that she was familiar with, seemed impossibly distant, another world entirely. 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. He was being contrary. And contradictory. He knew that, but the feeling persisted. A rogue wave lifted the boat and threw it forward.
    â€œYou’re going to put us onto the rocks,” Iona cried out as the little boat hurtled straight at the jagged outcrop of volcanic reefs directly in front of them. “Struan!”
    Even as she called his name, he steered the boat through a tiny gap. A cleft in the rock appeared directly ahead, and Struan deftly guided them into a natural harbour. “They’re called the Beast for good reason, those rocks,” Struan said, tying the rope onto an iron hoop that hung on the stone jetty before setting about taking down the sail.
    â€œI thought we were going to drown.”
    â€œI told you, you’re safe enough with me,” Struan said, helping her ashore, trying not to think about what would happen to her when she was no longer in his care.
    Iona scrambled onto the jetty and