“Scotland. In an old, burned-out manor house some Englishman abandoned. The people in the village took care of us. They thought we were demons or Fae or something. We became a local legend—the villagers believed that if they took care of the wild things up at the old house, we’d take care of them. And we did. Cass and I protected them.”

“But you still took the Collars.”

“Times changed. Superstitions died. The World Wars changed everything. Cass and I went to Norway in the forties to help the underground movements, and when we came back to Scotland, our house had been requisitioned and turned into a hospital. We had to find somewhere else to live. People who remembered the old ways had passed, and new people from the cities moved in. When Shifters were revealed and the locals finally knew what we were, they wanted to kill us. I turned us in to save Jace and my sister.”

“And you were relocated here?”

“Hell of a long way from the Scottish Highlands.” Eric brushed his fingers across her bare forearm. “You have Scots in you too. It shouts loud and clear, and so does your name.”

“My mom’s family moved out here about a hundred years ago,” Iona said. “From St. Louis. I don’t know why my mother named me Iona.”

“It’s a beautiful name, an island in the Hebrides. I’m thinking she named you to remember your Scottish father.”

“Who I’ve never found out about. My mother has kept a lot from me, but I’m thinking she still never knew very much.”

“His name was Ross McRae.”

Iona looked down at him, startled. “How do you know that?”

“I have resources.” Eric’s voice was less pain-filled now. “I have Xavier and his ability to find information on humans. Ross McRae was the name on your birth certificate.”

“My mother told me only a little bit,” Iona said. “Did Xavier find out anything about him?”

“Not yet. There might not be anything to find,” Eric said, his look serious. “If he’s still alive, he could have hidden himself well. Shifters can be tricky.”

“No kidding.”

Eric managed a chuckle. “If we mate, my Iona, under sun and moon, I’ll never leave you. We’ll be mates for life.”

Mates for life. The hunger inside Iona flared, and her stomach rumbled. “I wonder if there’s any more ice cream.”

“No.” Eric reached for her again, the desperate note reentering his voice. “Stay with me.”

He didn’t mean for sex. Eric was shivering now, his skin cold.

“Let’s get you under the covers,” Iona said.

She stood up but didn’t release Eric’s hand as she scooped up the sheets and blanket he’d thrown on the floor. She got into the narrow bed with him and pulled the covers over them both, snuggling down against him.

“You’re right,” she said. “This is better than ice cream.”

Eric smiled again, but he was still shivering. He traced her shoulder, and she nestled her head into his neck, trying to warm him.

He didn’t talk anymore. Iona had thought of many more questions to ask him, including making him tell her when he’d last felt this horrible, gut-churning pain, but Eric only kissed her hair and slid his hand up to cup her breast.

He caressed her through the shirt, his touch gentle. Though his caress was nowhere near as erotic as it had been last night in her back hall, Iona’s hunger started to calm, thoughts of ice cream fading.

Eric’s shivers slowed, then ceased, and Iona drifted to sleep in his warm embrace, comforted by the sound of his breathing.

Eric woke to sunshine pouring through the windows, his pain long gone. His c**k was hard, awakened long before Eric, because Iona lay in the curve of his arm, her nose against his chest.

Beautiful. And all mine.

“Eric.” Cassidy swung the door open, fully dressed in elastic-waisted jeans and a clingy sweater. “I can’t find Iona…Oh.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Eric put his finger to his lips and smiled at his sister. He felt good, happy, energized. Whatever pain had twisted at him last night was gone, not even vestiges lingering to stab at him.

Cassidy did not look displeased to find Iona snoozing in Eric’s bed. “Shane is back,” she whispered. “He needs to talk to you.”

Eric nodded, and Cassidy tiptoed away. Eric kissed Iona’s hair again, and Iona came awake with a start.

She blinked at him in confusion, sultry black lashes over lake blue eyes. Then she came fully awake and tried to pull away.

“What am I doing in here?…Oh, yeah.” Iona’s look turned concerned. “Are you all right?”

“Haven’t felt this good in a long time.” Eric felt his smile stretch his face. “Sleep with a mate is a great cure.”

He cupped Iona’s cheek and slanted a kiss across her mouth. A deep kiss. He swept his tongue across hers, half rolling onto her to press her lips apart even more.

Iona’s fingers bit into his shoulder, nails lightly scratching as she arched up to him, her thin nightshirt a flimsy barrier. Eric broke the kiss and lowered his head to her br**sts, teeth closing around one nipple through the fabric.

Iona’s little moan of pleasure almost had him spilling his seed. Eric skimmed the shirt up to bare her abdomen and the blue satin panties she must have picked out to go with the bridesmaid’s dress.

He nipped the waistband of the panties, then licked her belly above them as he pushed up the shirt to expose her br**sts. Her br**sts were pale, lush, and full, as Eric remembered from running with her in the desert, firm globes that fit so nicely into his hands. He ran his tongue around the areola of one nipple and sucked the tip into his mouth.

Iona rose to him, pushing herself farther into his mouth. She parted her legs, her foot coming up to skim his bare thigh, urging him. Eric feasted lovingly on her br**sts, first one then the other, reveling in the firm feel of her ni**les against his tongue, the soft flesh on his lips.

He licked between her br**sts, then slid up her body to kiss her mouth, pressing his aching hard-on over the satin panties.

“Accept my mate-claim, Iona,” he whispered. “Join with me under sun and moon, and we’ll have a mating frenzy that lasts all year.”

Iona ran a hot hand through Eric’s short hair. “We’d be tired.”

“And hungry. But we wouldn’t care.”