“No, that was different. This was later, when we first took the Collar.”
Eric closed his mouth abruptly, as though he didn’t want to talk about the Collar. Iona lightly rubbed his stomach. “Tell me about your wife. Mate, I mean. What was she like?”
Eric didn’t answer right away. He hesitated so long that Iona thought he wouldn’t answer at all, but then he spoke softly.
“Kirsten was—amazing. Hair like sunshine, but her eyes were black. She could run like nothing I’d ever seen before, and she didn’t take any shit from me.”
“What kind of cat was she?” Iona kept rubbing his abdomen, noting that his nearly frantic breathing had finally slowed.
“Leopard. Not a snow leopard like me and Cass, a gold and black one. Leopards are one of the smallest wildcats, even among Shifters, but they’re the most dominant. Kirsten had…personality. A lion Shifter was after her once, a huge guy, both in his human and wildcat form. She pretty much told him what to do with himself. That was fun to watch.”
“You loved her.”
“I did. With everything I had.” Eric stilled Iona’s hand with his large one. “Why do you want to know this?”
“It tells me what kind of person you are. And it’s making you feel better.”
Eric drew a breath and relaxed. Then, at the bottom of the breath, his body went rigid with pain, his hand closing hard on hers. “Son of a bitch.”
“Let me get Cassidy.”
Eric’s hold tightened. “Don’t leave me. Stay with me. Please.”
The grating cry wrenched Iona’s heart. She lifted their joined hands and kissed his fingers. “Keep telling me about Kirsten.”
“Can’t.” Eric’s teeth were clenched, eyes tightly closed. “She died. It hurt. It hurt so much.”
The grief in his voice was true. “Then tell me about Jace,” Iona said quickly. “He looks so much like you.”
“He puts up with a lot.” Eric tried to smile, lips barely moving. “It’s tough, being son of the leader.”
“Were you the son of a leader? Was your father leader?”
“Yeah, he was clan leader, but he passed right after Cassidy was born. I was too young to know him.”
“What about your mom?”
“Died soon after that. She never got over losing my dad, and she just gave up. It was me and Cass from then on.”
“I’m sorry,” Iona whispered. She imagined two young Shifters, alone, scared, unsure what to do. “Where did you live?”
“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.”