Page 44 of Tamed for Her Pleasure

Alfred leans back into the chair, tucks my head against his chest, and resumes his purr.

My father does a double-take before he makes a point of picking up his tea and taking a sip. “I dare say we will,” he says. “I must admit, you seem to have a way with my daughter.”

“She’s a handful,” Alfred says, with a definite note of pride. “She left your home and rode alone into a vast enemy camp and disabled a dozen of my men. She is as deadly as she is beautiful… But she also has a propensity for putting herself in danger and further does not involve anyone in her decision-making. She admitted she left without your permission or knowledge—had told no one at all. Anything might have happened to her, and you would not have even known where she went or why. No one is infallible. I would have more than words with any man of my clan acting so recklessly, putting himself in danger, compromising the safety of all, for others might need them to take risks to save him. Notwithstanding the pain he would causehis loved ones should he fall or be lost, or others to suffer the same fate seeking to rescue him. That is not acceptable.”

I feel the strongest urge to cry and must work to keep my breathing steady. He uses a clan member as an example, but I know he is talking about me. For the first time, I consider my actions not as daring but as foolhardy. All I wanted was to find a light outside my mother’s shadow, always thinking I know better, and perhaps I do, but that is no excuse.

“I have had many years of this,” my father says dryly.

“Well, you got the better deal,” Alfred replies, humor entering his voice again. “She is yet young, and I have many more arduous years ahead.”

“True,” my father says. “I worried I would never find a man to take her on.”

“I am right here!” I protest, although I am warmed by their acceptance of my faults—that they can still love me.

“You were looking in the wrong places, Louie. This here is a job for a barbarian.”

My father chuckles. “You have demonstrated admirably the error of my ways. Her mother was just the same, Goddess rest her soul.”

Chapter Fifteen

Alfred

Iam poked, prodded, and measured for a suit. I swear every member of the royal court comes with the tenacity of a herd of wild beasts. Despite the onset of winter, guests have started pouring in, filling the castle and the king’s numerous surrounding townhouses. Some are genuinely curious and polite, while others are nothing but nosy bastards all up in my business, making slights about my heritage and inferring that this is a rush wedding because the princess is with child.

“Your battle prowess is of limited value,” Philip sneers, a pretentious noble with overly glossy blond hair whose words offer a thinly veiled threat. He is a former suitor of Penelope, as he was quick to inform me when he first cornered me during these after-dinner drinks under the pretext of ‘getting to know me’. “This is a strong kingdom with no need for alliances.”

With our wedding plans announced, we are forced to endure these stately gatherings where the nobles of Pershore might have the opportunity to gawk at the barbarian bastard… which would be me.

Philip is not the only former suitor I have to contend with. Jeremy, with his chiseled jaw and sharp nose that I just want to reshape under my fist, has also been sniffing around.

“I would marry Penelope even should she be carrying your child,” Philip continues.

The man has balls, I will give him that, or perhaps he is under the misconception that I will play civilized because I am in a civilized setting.

I rest my hand on his shoulder in a seemingly friendly manner and squeeze.

He emits a small, unmanly squeak.

“Speak of my mate and our future children again in anything but the most respectful tones, and I will liberate you of your small prick and feed it to the palace pigs while you watch.”

He turns white as snow and blusters some nonsense about having me thrashed.

I release his shoulder and pat his cheek.

No sooner do I escape Philip and his bollocks than I am accosted by Penelope’s great-aunt, who makes similar allusions to Penelope only marrying because she is with child.

“I am a barbarian and alpha,” I say bluntly to the witchy crone, who I have been told is the king’s maiden aunt. “We cannot get a woman pregnant unless we knot her. That can take a bit of training, and while the princess is enthusiastic about her mately duties, I have applied caution lest I ruin her perfect cu?—”

“Alfred! If I might have a word.” Penelope smiles sweetly at her great-aunt before sinking her nails into my arm and guiding me away.

Her great-aunt’s pinched expression is a joy. As is that of the bastard, Jeremy with his chiseled jaw, who was lingering close enough to listen in. I am only sorry I did not get a chance to finish my sentence. I know she has had lovers, although they did not fuck her. The thought of her being with anybody elsemakes me want to ram my dick to the root to ensure my claim is thoroughly staked.

I allow my mate to guide me to a shadowy corner hidden behind some potted ferns—I have yet to get my head around the strange desire they have to bring plants inside their home.

“What are you doing!”

“Me?” I frown and glance around like there might be someone else here she asks this question of.

---