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“I am not a little girl,” I hiss. In light of my predicament, one might presume me to have other, more pressing, concerns, yet I’m charged by his insult, given I’m twenty-one and virtually a spinster in the eyes of many for not being married yet.
“Lass, your wriggling has given me ample opportunity to verify that you are all woman. It was merely a coin of phrase.”
He marches toward the cottage, passing the masked man who still lies on the ground, cupping his wounded balls.
I smirk at the downed man. His eyes widen at my evident glee.
“Quieten down!” Lor barks. A sharp spank lands upon my ass, charging my temper once again. Ignoring my renewed struggles, he strides for the cottage, booted feet thudding as they hit the steps, and he enters.
Floorboards creak, and I’m greeted by warmth as I’m dropped unceremoniously to my knees before a blazing fire.
I thought the cottage was abandoned long ago, but I see it is in good repair. The main room is well-stocked, with chopped wood stacked beside the fire and a lamp casting a cheery glow to counter the darkness as day turns toward dusk. A sturdy oak table with wooden benches on either side is opposite the fire. Shelves line the far wall, stocked with jars and baskets. Through an open doorway, I spy an oak-framed bed, laid thick with warm blankets and furs. Yet more blankets are stacked neatly at its side.
It would make a welcoming setting had I not been kidnapped and brought here under protest.
I scrambled to my feet, chest heaving as my situation hits home, and plant my fists at my hips. “What is the meaning of this?” All the tussling has produced a confused state, and I’m feeling a little woozy as their combined scents settle a blanket over my wits. My nipples are hard and sensitive, and between my legs is throbbing and a little slick. “Who is the masked scoundrel who put his hands upon me?”
The scoundrel manifests in the doorway with an uneven step.
Lor chuckles. “She got you good.”
“Fuck off!” the masked alpha retorts. “She is a lot feistier than I remember.” He turns to shut the door, rattling it into the jamb and sliding a heavy bolt across.
I blink a few times as I take his words in. Does he know me?
Do I know him?
Then I take in his uniform—I huff out a breath and roll my eyes.
“The meaning,” Lor says, returning my attention to him. “Is that you are staying here with us. I’m not as stupid as my friend here, and you won’t get any lucky shots. If you try running off again, you’ll be getting your bottom spanked. And trust me, it won’t be the pleasurable kind of spanking.”
Is there a pleasurable kind of spanking? How would that even work? Why am I thinking about this now? Why am I not screaming and making another bolt for the door?
My stomach takes a slow dip, and heat gathers between my legs. My pussy is more than merely damp. My clit, the place I sometimes pet deep in the night while imagining it is Aston doing it… or even Lor, tingles like I am petting it now.
“Oh, dear,” I say inadequately.
The masked alpha scratches his jaw and eyeballs me like he is hungry, and I represent a tasty treat. “Is she, eh, going into shock?” he asks Lor.
Lor chuckles. “Nope, the lass is merely onto you.”
ChapterNine
Six months earlier…
Lor
Ihave soldiered for many years, fighting against the Blighten in lands near and distant. My commanding officer, Edward Bramleigh, was a decorated war hero who held all my respect. Seeing something in me beyond my rough beginnings as a barbarian orphan, he gave me every opportunity to flourish, selecting Aston and me to be his lieutenants.
It didn’t matter to him that I was poor while Aston and his family were known to him. His belief in me as a man and alpha, and his coaching, have gone a long way in shaping who I am.
And then he died. An ambush. I wasn’t with him, and nor was Aston, or he would not have fucking fallen.
My father had died long ago in an attack, and my mother died a year later when the Blighten raided our clan. An adolescent at the time, I came home to find her body among the burnt-out ruins. I drifted for a time, turning half feral with my rage and sorrow, until I came upon the Baxter clan and an alpha lad who changed the direction of my life.
Aston provided friendship. Edward had filled much of what else was missing. His death still fucking devastates me, a month on. It is a testament to our closeness that he entrusted Aston and me to return his possessions to his wife and daughter. A task we accepted gladly and out of our mutual respect for him.
As I stare at the unopened letter in my hand, I’m reminded of all that has been lost. It is from Edward’s family, likely sent before they received the news of his death. He loved his wife and daughter and was a family man at heart, although his career often took him far away.
