Claimed for their Pleasure by L.V. Lane

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER NINE

Gage

I HAVE SPENT too much fucking time brooding over Jessa, the lass I cannot have. She is sweet. I am a rough man who has lived a life full of violence. I would need to temper my natural ways to be with her.

I could do it for her if she accepted me.

But our clans are barely civil, and it will never come to be.

Needing time to clear my head, I leave to hunt. We are a large clan with many mouths to feed, so although we farm and keep sheep, we supplement it with game where we can. I return home having spent a few days alone, resolved, but still miserable. With a nice plump buck and a brace of rabbits over my horse, I ride into the stables.

Dismounting, I call a stable lad over to see to my horse. I toss the buck to a nearby servant, who staggers off under the weight.

Pete, my second, and one of the few Alphas in the clan I trust to have my back, joins me as I exit and gives me the news.

“An envoy came from the Halket clan about the lass that was taken,” he says. “Your father, in his wisdom, had the man executed and sent his body back tied to his horse.”

A tic thumps in my jaw.

War. It is coming, and there is no avoiding that. But I find it is not the other clans I wish to war with. No, my rage is all directed at the monsters within my home.

“There is worse,” he says. “Four warriors took it upon themselves to try and snatch another lass. There is no word from the Halket clan yet, but given we sent their envoy back dead, I am not surprised.”

“Tried?” I ask. “They were not successful?”

“They had a run-in with Fen and Brandon.”

My eyes widen.

“They fought. One of our warriors was injured. He will recover.”

“Fuck!” Now we are at war with the Halket clan, and likely Ralston too, given they came to the lass’ aid.

I should not need to spell out to grown men that taking a woman against her will is not the way of the Goddess. Even if I had, it would have been a wasted breath. My father encouraged it, and he is still the fucking king.

But everything pales beside the dead envoy. I cannot reconcile that my father’s lust for blood drives him to take this road. “Had he allowed the envoy to speak to the lass taken, he would have left satisfied, as I was, that there was no ill-intent. Some recompense would have been needed. But a couple of mules laden with supplies would have seen the matter dropped. By killing the envoy, he is declaring war.”

“We need mates,” Pete says, meeting my steady gaze. “The taking of lasses from other clans has been a threat hanging over us long since. We took over the Burn lands, but they were a small clan and were few in number.”

I know he speaks the truth, but there are ways to find our clan mates and wives that do not involve a fucking war. The tic in my jaw pulses harder. Confronting my father now will lead to an unrecoverable rift. Yet, I am sick to my gut with news of these events.

A dead space opens inside my chest. I am broken and cannot be remade. My father is not a man who inspires love, but there was a time when he had my respect. As I think back over my life since my mother passed, I find it hard to pinpoint where this all began to unravel. Certainly, the illness a decade ago played a part, but he was warmongering even then. As a lad, the events were viewed differently. Disjointed scenes playback, all of them awash with brutality.

“Where is my father now?” Blood pounds through my veins. I need to cool off before speaking to him, but I find myself welcoming whatever will come.

“Your father has left,” Pete says, eyes wary like he senses my intentions. “He is planning something, maybe something as bold as the takeover of the Halket clan. He has sent Danon off to make mischief, I have no doubt. They did not leave together.”

My rage rises further, like ants under my skin. It needs an outlet.

“Who tried to take the lass?” I demand.

“Four warriors,” he says, listing their names.

Two are Alphas, and two are Betas. All four of them should know better.

“Are the idiots still here?” I ask.

“Two of them,” Pete says, his lips forming a wry smile. “Your father was concerned about retaliation, so there are still enough warriors to defend the clan. Want me to round them up?”

I nod.

My father has left, so too, Danon, which means the warriors responsible for starting a clan war will get the full brunt of my fury. Those that are here, anyway.

Pete brings the two warriors to the great hall. It is quiet, for there is no merriment to be had with the threats in the air. The few servants attending duties in the room soon scurry off. We have been teetering on the edge of anarchy for a long while, and the lesser Betas have a sense for trouble and make themselves scarce.

I think about asking the two men questions, but I happen they know why they have been called. I have the ringleader by the throat while his whelp companion cowers out the reach of my fist. I put a good beating on him, enjoying every blow. It is not only about this man nor his reckless deed. It is about the lost hope of clan peace that stands between a certain tiny Beta and me. My chances were slight before this happened, now they are none.

I don’t stop until his face looks like raw meat, and he has pissed himself with fear.

Then I repeat my punishment for his companion. This man is injured, but I don’t let his weakened state stop me.

As I lose myself in the savagery, I imagine Brandon telling Jessa about the low, despicable nature of the Lyon clan. If not now, then soon, the Ralston clan will learn of the dead envoy.

I had little hope to start with, but now the crushing of my desire is absolute.

Fists and booted feet are used to remind the warriors of their place. I don’t care that my father has led them astray. I’m sickened to be part of any plan to rape and claim a lass. I’m sickened that we would kill an envoy sent in good faith to ensure his clanswoman was not taken by force.

It feels good to let the dark side of me out. Rarely do I unleash it on the people of my clan. But of late, they do not feel like my people, not all of them, anyway.

Chest heaving, I finally stop realizing that neither man moves.

Dead.

I have killed them, and I do not even fucking care. Maybe my father will be displeased. I no longer care about that either.

When I look toward Pete, I see understanding in his face. Maybe my temper will have cooled some before my father returns, or maybe it won’t. Maybe my father will laugh when he learns what I did to the warriors who tried to take the lass.

Or maybe his fury will rise to meet and clash with mine.

“I will spread the word,” Pete says. “To those loyal to you.”

He accepts what is done and what is yet to unfold without question. Conflict comes for us from all directions. Our people and clan are rotten, and the sickness needs to be purged.

I nod.

He leaves, and as I look from the broken bodies to my raw knuckles, I feel the pieces fall into place.

Events are escalating, shifting, fluid, and where they will finally land is anyone’s guess.