Her Wolfen Destiny
Emma MacDonald has been told since birth that her destiny is to give birth to the saviors of her race, twin russet wolves, in an upcoming racial war with the humans. But being a woman raised in the midst of the Great War, she is tired of war and vows to flout her father's decree that she marry the neighboring Alpha of the Donnghal clan. When Braden arrives to escort her to the Donnghal Alpha she unprepared for his awakening of her wolf, which can only mean one thing. He's her mate and her escape from her betrothal. If he mates her she doesn't have to marry his uncle. Her hopes are dashed however when Braden cruelly rejects their bond. But that ceases to matter when the pack which Braden hopes to join turns on him.
About the Author:
Dakota is a simple Midwest girl, who has found her passion in storytelling at a young age. Her father always said she made up the craziest stories. Most remained unwritten though as writing wasn’t Dakota’s strong suit. That all changed in junior high when she took her first typing class. Problem solved for the dyslexic Dakota. There was no stopping her after that. She wrote her first novel her freshman year about a girl who could speak to animals on an old electric IBM typewriter her dad found at a garage sale. Now writing in several different genres, she is a published author with multiple books under her belt. When she isn’t writing, she’s the crazy mom of three wild Indians who are posing as her children, a loving wife to the man of her dreams and a full time Graphic Design Major at IADT.
Moving further into the solar, Emma looked around apprehensively, taking in every minute detail of her surroundings. Sniffing the air, she could scent nothing more than old books and the wood stacked next to the fireplace. Her father hadn’t been in the room for several hours it seemed. Thank God, because the book lined solar was her refuge from everything – the one place she could find peace. Latching the door behind her, she slipped around one of the two high winged back chairs. Tossing the thick lap-robe up and over her body, she settled into the chair. Her plan had seemed so simple when she’d plotted with Lettie – find a wolf to mate with – one that would bind her to him, but it seemed that each man she approached did nothing for her wolf. The bitch continues to lay dormant no matter which male comes sniffing around. If I didn’t know better I’d think she’s an omega – hiding from all. The low growl erupting from her throat told her of her wolf’s obvious feelings on the matter. She sighed – tired of trying to find a solution to a problem which wasn’t solvable. Perhaps running away would be best.
But even as she thought it, her wolf grunted. Strong and pure, the alpha bitch residing inside her would run from no man or beast – even if she didn’t deign to meet any of the prospective suitors Emma had paraded in front of her.
Snuggling deeper into the plush cushions, she continued to study the flames in the fireplace, and was just dropping off to sleep when the most intoxicating smell she’d ever scented teased her nostrils. With the hint of nutmeg and pine, her inner wolf’s ear perked up as she sniffed the air. Mate? Exhilaration chased away the lingering weariness. Turning her head, she got her first glimpse of the man who was her mate standing next to her father.
Tall and broad shouldered, his closely cropped dark hair and neat appearance smacked of time spent in the military but the bruising and swelling around his left eye and nose attested to the fact he’d been in a recent altercation. Then the scent of another female hit her nose. A low growl built in her throat at the idea. Her wolf began to pace in agitation and it was all she could do to keep her from springing on the unsuspecting man.
The Great Mac’s head swung in her direction.
“Emma-girl, there you are. Your mother has been looking all over for you.”
She rose with a low snarl before skirting around the wingback chair. The rumbling in her chest grew louder the closer she stalked to the pair. The stranger shifted a bit as he took in every detail of her. She felt the heat of his eyes stroking over her form and if she’d been a normal woman she’d have preened under his gaze. But she wasn’t, and with the musky scent of another aggravating her wolf, all Emma wanted to do was mark the man. He was hers and soon he’d accept the fact. She watched as his nostrils flared before he inhaled sharply. Immediately the knowledge of what they meant to each other washed over his face. His fists clenched as she closed the distance between them, but he held his ground despite the increasing noise her bitch was making.
“What’s wrong, lass? This is your betrothed’s surrogate. He’s here to marry you in his Alpha’s stead. You have no reason to be hostile.”
Her father’s whisper was ignored as she stopped with only inches separating her aching body from the male in front of her. She looking up into deep blue eyes, her fingers curling hesitantly against the broad expanse of his chest. He relaxed under her touch as she gave him a warning smile - his first mistake. One she was sure he’d be leery about in the future. Everyone in her pack knew to tread softly when Emma smiled in a certain way. It usually meant she was plotting bodily harm – and this time was no different. Her mate had allowed another to touch him – to take what was rightfully hers and it didn’t matter to her wolf that it’d been before her – she demanded that Emma show the man the error of his ways.
With her wolf’s first heat upon her, triggered by her mate’s presence, her fingernails grew into razor sharp talons as her voice became raspier. “Mine!” she hissed, before piercing into the heavy chest muscles under her palms – marking him. He stiffened as if he’d been hit by lightning as a low moan passed his parted lips. She flexed her fingers, digging deep – needing to impress upon him severity of giving another what she considered as hers.
“Fuck.” His head tipped back as his torso arched away from her – his lower body swayed towards hers. Against her stomach she felt an unfamiliar hardness – one which would’ve had her wolf purring – if wolves purred.
“Emma Rose MacDonald! Release him!” Her father moved closer – too close for Emma’s wolf’s comfort. She bared her teeth at her sire. As an alpha bitch, she cared less about pack policies when it came to her mate. He had no right to interfere.
“Mine!” She snapped at Liam. He froze before a low rumble of his displeasure filled the room.