Aurelia, a Noble Roman woman, had heard of the savage British tribes, their mystic Celtic ways, and the battles the Roman army was fighting against them on their shores. The battles her soon-to-be Husband, Quintus Acquilla, was fighting in the name of the Eagle. But she could not have predicted that, when she crossed the ocean to be with him and fulfil the marriage contract between their families, she would be captured by a Barbarian War Lord and made to be his War Prize...

"Close your eyes." he croaked, I did as I was told without any disobedience. "Have you any idea how badly I want to kiss you right now?" I shook my head in reply. "Badly, so fucking badly." he whispered as his harsh breath fanned across my cheek. Dark haired and tattooed, Xavier looked like the ultimate bad boy...but weren't bad boys meant to have that boyish charm? The thing is, Xavier was extremely guarded, hot headed and quite frankly, scary. In fact, Xavier was many things but romantic and loving wasn't two of them. He was a building half built, a puzzle with half of the pieces missing... Until he met me. Warning: Bad language (lots of). A possessive delinquent that is guaranteed to make you smile (or cry.)

Copyrighted 2017 *Completed* Highest rankings: #6 in Werewolf #1 in Wolves #3 in Featured He was said to be powerful, the most powerful of them all. A king of kings- a dark king. Complete control. He needed it- thrived on it. He was power, he was dark, and he was beautiful. They say he was a descendant of the first wolves- of shapeshifters so fierce they could kill with barely a glance. He was respected, revered. Feared. The King of the North. And we were the idiots sneaking into his territory. *Not your typical werewolf book* --please reframe from hateful comments directed at me or other readers who enjoy the story. *This book has no sexually mature scenes and is PG-13* *This book has nothing to do with The Game of Thrones, and is not a fanfic of any kind*