Claimed for their Pleasure by L.V. Lane
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Jessa
A GREAT FIRE blazes on the shore of the loch by the time we arrive, and the clan are gathered around on the grassy banks.
My parents have laid out their blankets and fare on a perfect spot beside the forest with the perfect view of the bonfire and loch. Nearby, my younger sibling brats play at rumbustious games. Amos is not far off being a man and has gone to hang out with his friends.
Joining them, we lay out our own blankets and a few soft furs.
Greta squeals with excitement and makes a beeline for Brandon, flower garland in her hand.
Brandon laughs and dutifully kneels so she can place it around his neck.
“When Jessa dies, you can marry me,” she earnestly informs him.
“Eh, lass,” my father says, laughing. “You shouldn’t wish your sister dead!”
“What if Orcs eat her?” Greta demands. “Brandon will need a new lass to collect their eggs. I’m best at finding the eggs!”
“You are best at finding eggs,” my mother agrees. “But let’s not make Jessa Orc food. Don’t you want to be an aunty when she has a baby?”
I sense Brandon still behind me, although the nuances of his reaction are lost when Greta squeals with excitement. She is as obsessed with babies as she is with finding the eggs the chickens hide.
My mother passes me a loaded platter and a jug of honeyed wine as Greta toddles off to join the other children.
We laze upon the furs eating, supping the sweet wine, and laughing at the children’s antics. Villagers come and go, stopping to chat with my parents, and sharing food and drinks. On the far side, musicians play a lively tune on pipes and drums. Greta dances out of beat, her little body bouncing and swaying, her foot-stomping a few times before she completes a twirl.
I have been to the festival every year, but it is the first time I will not be sent home with the children.
It is the first time I have had a bonded mate with me.
Brandon never leaves my side, always touching me somewhere even as we enjoy the delicious feast.
I catch him watching me, and I know he is thinking about what I said before we left home. I smile. He returns a lazy one, and leaning in, steals a kiss.
“The sun is sinking,” he says. “Let’s walk around the village before everyone has other things on their minds.”
Standing, he grabs my hand and hauls me to my feet. With the light fading, the lanterns are lit, giving the feast a magical feel. People lay, sit, and stand in groups to chat, watching children play games of chase. We stop to talk to Brandon’s parents, then Hazel, Fen, and Jack. We share a few words here and there, sampling delicious food offered as we pass through. It hardly seems possible we were at war not so long ago.
I have just spotted a friend when Brandon does an abrupt about-face, his arm around my waist. “The children are heading off,” he says.
I have an odd notion that it was not the children leaving that prompted Brandon to turn.
I peer over my shoulder, but all I can see are the crowds.
The music picks up a different kind of beat that sets the flutter rising in my belly.
When we reach my parents, they are busy packing up and corralling the younger brats. Greta is in my father’s right arm, a packed basket in the other. My remaining siblings are being loaded up by my mother, except for William, who has thrown a fur over his head and is pretending to be a bear.
“Brats will never sleep!” my father says, shaking his head even as he chuckles at their antics.
My mother laughs as she places the wine jug and basket with some food beside our furs. Standing, she draws me in for a hug. “Enjoy your night, love. I’ll see you both on the morrow.”
Then they are leaving, William running ahead, still growling and making pretend claws with his hands. Barely are they gone when Brandon kicks off his boots, scoops me up, and takes me down onto the furs. “Thank fuck for that,” he says. “I love your family like my own, but I couldn’t wait to have you all to myself.”
I giggle. Gazing up at Brandon, my chest swells as all the love I feel for him hits me in a rush. My mother is right. There will be bumps in the road before we find happiness. Tonight, though I will show Brandon how much I care, I will demonstrate my love for him through the pleasure we will share.
My smile fades as we gaze upon one another. The place within my heart that belongs to Brandon blazes. I feel the Goddess’s love wrap around us, setting the tiny hairs on the back of my neck rising.
There is more, I realize. Another presence is reaching for me, weaving together with the thread that connects me to Brandon.
My eyes shift, as I am drawn.
The air leaves my lungs, and my pulse begins to throb at my throat.
It feels like forever since I have seen him. The last image I have was of him standing over the slain body of his father. He was the second-born son then. Now he is the king of a clan.
His upper body is bare, revealing the great slabs of muscle to his chest, shoulders, and arms. Hide pants, tucked into soft leather boots, encase his muscular thighs. A silver pendant hangs around his neck, nestling into the dip of his throat. Goddess, he is a breathtaking man and Alpha.
He looks like the king of a clan.
He looks like the missing piece that my heart and body yearn for.
Only he is not missing anymore, for the Goddess has sent him to me.
“There are connections between Alphas and Omegas.” My mother said, pressing a hand to the center of her chest over her heart. “Here, inside. Like a thread tying them together for all their lives.”
There has ever been a connection between Brandon and me. It bloomed long ago when he saved me as a child from wolves, and even though he is a Beta. But another thread budded when I found a brave warrior gravely wounded in the woods.
The Goddess is here. I shiver as the cooling breeze skitters over my hot skin.
She will expect me to show her my love and gratitude through the pleasure I give and receive.
