Claimed for their Pleasure by L.V. Lane

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Gage

OUR CLAN IS in a state of chaos. Despite being urged to leave, many villagers remain, gathering fuck knows what. Through the open double doors of the hall, I can see the central square. A confused jumble of bellowed orders and jostling villagers, goats dragged by ropes, cages of chickens, and ragged bundles of possessions… one man is even herding pigs with a stick.

It is a calamity of the highest fucking order.

“Five more have pledged to you,” Pete says as he takes the steps to meet me in the hall.

Warriors have been placed at strategic locations throughout the village. My father has left with a dozen warriors to check on them. Not that it will do us any good. He wanted to negotiate for Danon, but I cannot see that happening now. Riders returned not long ago, informing us that both Halket and Randal are mobilizing, along with support from the Baxters.

He wanted a fucking war. Now he has gotten one.

“What are the numbers now?” I ask.

“Close to half will side with you. More will certainly fold and pledge at signs of trouble.”

Dawn is creeping over the horizon. The attack will come soon. “Are the lasses safe?”

“Aye,” Pete says. “Had them moved to the old lookout lodge with a couple of warriors.” He spits on the dusty wooden ground. “I enjoyed slitting the throat of the bastards your father had watching them. One of the lasses was pregnant. What kind of man takes a pregnant woman as a bartering tool? No right-minded warrior hides behind a woman’s skirts.”

My nostrils flare. This does not get any easier to bear for discussing. “A monster,” I say. “He needed to die a week ago. Had I acted then, we would not be in this mess now.”

“A week ago, we did not have the numbers. You might have killed him. Or his supporters put an arrow in your back for trying, and we’d still be where we are now but with less hope. We have the numbers now.”

“Danon,” I say. His name is both a curse and a prayer. He is my older brother. I don’t know why I suffer this desperate desire to save him.

“Has made poor choices,” Pete says coldly. “If it is true that he killed the Halket king, he will be punished, and no amount of negotiating will change that. Happen we’d have to snatch the kings’ mates to have any kind of credible bargaining power. That’s not going to happen. Eric’s mate is a warrior maiden. Jack’s will be well guarded. Even that bitch Nola wouldn’t dare. What you do now, you do for the clan and for yourself. If our enemies do not kill us first. Danon is gone. Let him go.”

The arrival of mounted warriors curtails our discussion. Among them is Nola.

I have only met Nola on a few occasions. She’s had ideas above her station for a long while. The final straw in her demise was having Jack’s mate tied naked to a post while she whipped her with a switch.

My lips curl as I storm down the steps, Pete following in my wake.

My eyes widen as I notice the first lass. In the eastern clans, hair is mostly shades of brown or red. The blonde-haired, bedraggled waif is hard to forget, although I have seen her only once.

“You are fucking stupid,” I roar, blood pounding so hard and fast through my veins it is a wonder I do not explode from the sheer force of it. “They will slit Danon’s throat when they learn you have taken a bound mate from Jack and Fen. Then they will reign bloody revenge on every member of our clan.” Hope is snatched from my fingers. My plans to confront and kill my father are because it needs to be done, but also in the hope that it might finally bring calm to the madness.

“Snatch a couple of lower-ranking women was my father’s order. Not that I fucking agree with snatching a lass. Nola is bitter that she was sent away as a slave. The Beta is dishonored. She has led you all for fools.”

The Alpha mounted behind Hazel all but drops her from the horse. Her cry of pain is sharp. Body coiling, I suck in a breath. I will kill the foolish whelp who was holding her myself.

Another lass is similarly tossed to the floor, where she rushes to aid her queen.

My nostrils flare, and my mind whites out as I recognize the tiny lass trying to comfort her injured clanswoman.

Jessa’s head lifts, and she gasps as her eyes lock with mine. The two women cling to one another, shaking up a storm.

“What the fuck is the child doing here?”

“She was with their mate,” Nola spits back at me. “And nothing short of their mate will have a chance to see your brother returned after what he has done.”

I don’t realize I have moved until Nola’s bitch throat is in my fist. It feels good to squeeze. She gasps for air as I tighten my fingers, legs kicking and thrashing, fingers clawing at mine.

“I am not a child,” Jessa says, her sweet voice pulling me from the brink. Her eyes flash like she is daring me to dispute that I already know this. She does seem older in ways I cannot quite pinpoint.

Nola is dropped. Falling to the ground at my feet, she heaves ragged breaths.

“Are you bonded?” I demand, stalking toward the shaking Ralston lasses. Is this the change I sense in Jessa? My gut churns and my blood rises all at once.

“No,” Jessa says. Her chin tips defiantly, and her shoulders straighten.

My chest swells with both pride and joy that she is not scared of me.

“Not yet. But I soon will be.”

The fuck she will. I tried to forget about her. I tried to put her from my mind. To erase the memory of her soft lips as they pressed to my forehead, her scent, her tiny, lush body that calls to the primal side of me.

I wasted my fucking time. The only way I can forget Jessa is if I am fucking dead… which might yet happen if Jack’s rage for his stolen mate is anything like mine is now in seeing Jessa here.

As I continue stalking them, Hazel backs away, hissing as her right foot hits the ground. They are not wearing any fucking shoes!

Jessa thrusts her small body in front of her queen.

I stop, chest heaving with the strain as Jessa’s scent floods my system.

“Kill the slave,” I say, never taking my eyes from Jessa. “Snap her useless neck, slit her throat. I do not care.”

The sounds of stammered pleading come from behind me. Pete does not hesitate to follow my command and Nola’s begging ends abruptly.

“Well, this is a fuck up of unprecedented proportions. Between my father and my brother, it will be a wonder we have any clan left come the morrow.” There is bitterness in my voice. And rage, there is also rage.

I need to do something other than stare at Jessa like a lust-drunk fool. Tearing my eyes away, I direct my attention to Jack and Fen’s mate. “Are you injured?”

She nods and swallows. The poor lass is witless with her fear.

“He won’t hurt us,” Jessa says. Goddess, these are terrible circumstances, but her faith in me is enough to bring me to my knees.

But I need to get them both to safety. Although I don’t have a fucking clue where is safe given the other clans must be almost upon us.

Taking the final step, I scoop the pair of them up. “Time to do what I should have done long ago,” I say. Stalking past the hall, I head out the back for the old storage shed.

“Find out where my father is,” I call to Pete.

“Where are you taking us?” Jessa demands. They are both beating me with their small fists and wriggling about.

“Quieten down, lass. I am taking you out of the way. War will be here soon, and I would not have either of you hurt when lesser men get confused in their bloodlust.”

Kicking the door to the outbuilding open, I put them into the corner and draw my dagger. Grasping Jessa’s wrists, I cut the binding before giving her the blade.

A great roar goes up beyond the small wooden shack. Fuck!

“Bar the door,” I say, and pivoting, stalk out.