Page 17 of Tamed for Her Pleasure

Why the fuck this should worry me, I don’t know. I am still reeling and waiting for someone to start laughing.

“A small detail.” The king waves a dismissive hand.

Gods help me, they are all full of their own importance. Little wonder Penelope turned out how she did… “It is not a small fucking detail to me!” This is moving ahead very fucking fast. No fucking way I am getting married. I am willing to compromise on some things, but assuredly not this.

Compromise? Gods, my head is spinning.

“I don’t mind mating him,” Penelope offers.

My belly tightens, and my blood pounds in my ears as I allow myself to look at her, to meet her eyes, to see there, plainly, that this is no ruse.

Mine.

Before the gods, old and new, this woman is going to be mine, claimed and bred. Clearly, keeping her belly well planted is the only option if I’m to gain any measure of control. “Damn right, you will be mated, and then I’ll show you just how a lass gets with child.”

Her eyes turn hooded, and she coos with delight.

My jaw snaps shut as I realize this was what she was plotting on the damn horse. The lasses in the village could learn a lesson or two from this princess. I’ve just been outsmarted by a little girl, and I’m not even mad.

The king is calling orders.

Penelope sidles up to me, all fucking fake meekness.

Damn, this was not how I expected the day to turn out, but as I drag my scowl away from the brat and I see Lor, Aston, and Freya reunited, I decide I don’t fucking mind.

Chapter Seven

Penelope

Alfred stalks off to speak with his people, leaving me to deal with the fallout alone, which is only as much as I deserve.

Cedric, my father’s advisor, moves off, already barking instructions at his young assistant, who is scribbling the notes down awkwardly using a quill and paper he just whipped out of his satchel. Cedric is a man who anticipates every eventuality in this and all things, it would seem.

We are in the middle of a field. A great horde is gathered not so far away. They no longer have a reason to seek war—with the weather changing, they will likely make haste for their homes. But it is also prudent to usher them on their way with something to place them into a congenial state of mind, and guards have already been sent to the city to gather compensation in the form of carts laden with goods.

Barbarian riders similarly beat a path to and from their main army, carrying orders and news from Alfred and his men.

What do they think of me?

I’m not sure what came over me, what made me point out that we had been together unchaperoned and, further, to demand we be married. I have had lovers aplenty who were obviously with me while unattended. What I did with Alfred could not justifiably be considered any more scandalous.

Only, it felt different with him, more intimate, more… everything.

My actions, on reflection, were reckless—it is a trait I harbor and one I have rued the consequences of on occasion. I question what madness gripped me to force a lifelong commitment to a man I barely know.

And why it feels so right.

Shifters have fated mates. Maybe alphas and omegas do, too. But I am entirely ordinary in that regard—a beta, which I am grateful for lest I be wedded to some awful alpha at the high king’s behest.

No such otherworldly forces were acting upon me, nor was there anything else I might call upon as an excuse. In the moment, it was more that I could sense he was about to slip from my life, and the thought of that devastated me.

I saw my father’s eyes widen after my bold declaration… and the slight lifting of his lips. I don’t believe my words shocked him in the ways one might presume. Nor do I believe he is concerned about the threat of the high king declaring war.

My speaking in front of his courtiers and personal guards would cause some ripples if they were broadcast far and wide, but it is unlikely they will travel far. My father’s inner circle would not remain so for long should they gossip about every bit of nonsense that leaves my lips. I have never flouted my previous lovers, but neither did I hide them. News of me being alone with a man, barbarian or not, hardly warrants the reaction it got, which leads me to only one conclusion as to why my father acted as he did…

“A barbarian,” my father says slowly. Now we are alone, out of earshot of all but his advisor, who is fully occupied with his planning.

“He is different,” I finally say with a helpless shrug.

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