“We don’t know for sure that you’re a warrior. But I’m not taking any chances on losing you again. The clan will have to live with more broken rules.”

“If I am a warrior, will you be the one to train me?”

“Unless the clan assigns you a mentor.”

“Would it be a female?”

“Not necessarily. I don’t mind if it’s a male… as long as it’s not Ronan.”

Shay squeezed Cody’s hand. “Can we get back to that marriage proposal?”

“In the clan, when a warrior finds his mate, they pledge their intentions. We consider it a marriage, of sorts, until it can be done properly. Kind of like handfasting. It’s binding until the union can be blessed in a church. Will you bind yourself to me now, Shay?”

She slipped both hands in his. “I already am, but you can say the words.”

Cody’s hands were warm on hers. “I, Cody MacBain of the Connor Clan, pledge to you, Shay Logan, my heart, my life, my body, and the protection of my sword, as long as we live and beyond. Will you have me as your mate?”

Shay nodded. “I will, if you’ll accept my heart, my body, my life, and the protection of my…”

Cody’s lips twitched. “Candlestick?”

“…my candlestick.”

“I accept. You’re mine,” he said, and the intensity in his eyes and his voice made her shiver. He wound his hand in her hair. “Never run away from me again.”

“Never. But shouldn’t we have witnesses?”

“We have God and that bloody cat.” Cody looked at the big white cat perched on a nearby hay bale. Shay had asked Ronan if she could keep the cat until he was ready to go home to Montana. “You know in the olden days, a marriage wasn’t binding until it was consummated.”

“I thought we covered that part already.”

“Well, I think we had things a bit backward before. We’ll start over in the proper order. You have any objections to hay, again?”

“None.” She smiled as he settled her in the hay. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” Cody said, his head lowering to hers. The cat meowed, gave them a green stare, ran to the ladder, and disappeared.

“Guess he knows we don’t need a witness for what I’m about to do next,” Cody said, his hazel eyes darkening.

“What would that be?”

He reached for her shirt with a wicked grin. “How about I show you?”

Acknowledgments

As always, I’m so grateful to my critique partner, Dana Rodgers, for her marvelous help and encouragement, and for last-minute work sessions. I want to thank my family. They mean more to me than all the books in the world: My mother, who embodies the grace and generosity I wish I had. I’m still learning from her. My father, who is the gentlest soul I know and partially inspired the character of Old Elmer. My brother, sister-in-heart, and nephew, some of the greatest people on earth. My husband, for his devotion and creative contributions to the really cool stuff in the books. My children, who are imaginative and wonderful beyond words. My agent, Christine Witthohn of Book Cents Literary Agency, for being the best agent in the world, and to my editor, Deb Werksman for believing in this series.

About the Author

Anita Clenney writes paranormal romance and romantic suspense. Before giving herself over to the writing bug, she worked in a pickle factory and a preschool, booked shows for Aztec Fire Dancers, and was a secretary, an executive assistant, and a Realtor. She lives with her husband and two children in suburban Virginia not far from Washington, D.C.

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