Claimed for their Pleasure by L.V. Lane
CHAPTER FOUR
Brandon
“YOU MEAN FOR us to leave now?” I ask. It is late afternoon and an unusual time of day to begin a trek. “I have not eaten yet.”
I’m a shifter and eat large amounts compared to everyday folks. I guess I can grab a snack while we are out…
Grinning, Fen tosses me an apple from the bowl on the oak table.
I catch it instinctively… and put it right back. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I say. “Shifters don’t eat fruit.”
He laughs, the bastard. But it is a good-humored laugh.
Fen’s brother, Jack, is our clan king, and their home is the grandest within the community. The great hall where we stand talking has been turned into a workspace as a couple of men are busy making repairs to the hearth while Jack is away.
Jack is away… which means his second, Glen, has been left in charge of the clan.
It also means we have a chance to do some deep scouting without drawing attention.
I notice one of Jessa’s friends disappearing into the ‘herb cottage’ through the hall’s open double doors.
“I don’t want to leave until Jessa returns,” I say, frowning. I do not often challenge a decision made by Fen, but I make an exception for Jessa. I overheard the women mentioning that she had gone to collect medicinal plants after noticing the stocks were low. She has matured since I found her surrounded by hungry wolves. But she still has no sense of danger. While she knows better than to venture too far, she also gets distracted. Likely, the lass is currently singing her heart out and not paying a bit of attention to where the fuck she is.
It is not my place to tell her where she can and cannot go, but I get ants under my skin whenever they let her go anywhere alone. My palm also itches. I wholeheartedly believe the lass could do with some loving discipline to aid her in developing a sense of caution.
“She is sweet on you,” Fen says with a smirk as we walk down the steps of his home.
“Who?” I ask, scowling, although I already know he is talking about Jessa.
“Jessa,” he says. Grinning, he bumps his shoulder to mine. “She is of age.”
“Do not fucking go there,” I say. “Her father does not like me well. She slipped while bringing a cherry pie over for Ma yesterday, and the bastard looked fit to bust my balls. I can picture my wolf hide pinned over his mantle like a fucking war prize after he has finished with me.”
Fen chuckles. He does not take much seriously except for making mischief and rutting, which he takes very seriously indeed.
“You do like her, though?” he asks.
“What’s not to like about Jessa?” I counter. Her father will never let me near the lass. For all Jessa’s mother and mine are friends, I was not wholly joking when I said he would sooner skin me than let me claim his daughter. It is a sore point all around.
I hear Fen chuckling. I refuse to make eye contact with the bastard.
“Everyone likes Jessa,” he says. “She is sweet, pretty, and always smiling. She is of age. With all her sibling brats, her pa is sure to marry her off soon.”
He is baiting me, I reason, but I still growl and turn to him with murder in my eyes. We may be best friends, but he knows baiting me about Jessa is off-limits.
A call on the other side of the village square rouses our attention before we come to blows. Our heads swing in the direction of the forest as a great horse bearing a warrior comes into view.
“What the fuck?” I growl. My inner wolf battles to spring from my flesh.
Not only a horse and a warrior, but Jessa smeared in blood.
