Page 14 of With Fangs and Claws (The Wolf Queen 1)

I let out a little hiss as his fingers dug deeper, only my jaw locking tight stopping me from crying out in pain.

“You’ll wine and dine those animals in there, just as you’ve been taught. You’ll flirt and simper and make them think they’re the kings of the world, because otherwise…”

I did whimper then, just a small thing, but his grip was crushing, and it felt like his fingers dug right the way down to the bone.

“Just don’t fuck them.” I was shoved away at that, left gasping as my hands went to my aching arms. “No one buys a cow if he can get the milk for free, so keep your mouth smiling and your legs closed until such time as you ride out of here with a betrothal agreement signed. Do you hear me?”

I nodded sharply, unable to form words.

“Sort yourself out, girl. An attack this morning and then tears now?” Father’s tone was utterly scathing. “Beasts like that don’t want weak little milksops.” His teeth flashed in the low light produced by the lanterns hanging on the walls. “They want buxom wenches that can take the hammering they’re likely to deal out, filling their womb with heathen creatures, to be spat out in the dirt like a whelping bitch. Now get back inside there and heed my words.”

His hands strayed to his belt then, igniting memories that came back in a flood. Of being bent, bare-backed over the base of his bedstead, gripping the carved timber tight as the leather of that belt came whistling through the air. The starburst of pain exploding across my back, Linnea urging him on, as if that was enough to stop her from getting her own licks after me. Over and over, he’d strike, sometimes with a semblance of calm, forcing me to count the strokes, other times just whaling on me with gusto until whatever passion inside him was spent.

“Of course, Father.” I dropped a quick curtsey and he smiled as a result. “It will be as you say.”

“Good, good. Now get your arse in there and see to the ‘princes’.” He turned on his heel and began to walk off. “I’ll find Gordon, see if he wants to share a whiskey or two with me…”

When he’d gone around the corner, I tossed up whether to obey my father or not. It might seem ridiculous to consider such a thing, especially when a punishment like that was on the table. It’s certainly how Linnea felt. She never understood my need for surreptitious rebellion, finding the lengths I went to hide what I was doing all the more evidence of a failure of character. But me?

As I stared down the hallway, seeing the stairs in the dim light that would lead me out and away from this blasted keep, I knew why. They were the few choices I was able to make, even if I had to lie and scheme to do so, and that small moment of freedom was so utterly seductive, I couldn’t resist its pull. I was already taking a step towards the stairs, when the door opened.

Dane filled the doorway, standing there with his arms propped against the frame, his fine leather tunic stretching over his muscular chest. Many a keep girl would have swooned at the sight of such male beauty, but not I.

“Everything all right, my queen?” he said.

I felt the bone deep ache in my arms, knowing I’d bruise by the morning, but I forced myself to nod.

“Of course, Your Highness,” I replied, dipping down into a curtsey.

“None of that,” he said, moving forward, grabbing me much more gently to raise me to my feet, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t hold back the wince.

“What was that?” he asked, alarm clear in his voice, then my chin was tipped upwards, the warg forcing me to stare into his eyes. “What happened?” Then with much more menace. “What did he do?”

I couldn’t answer him, wouldn’t answer him, so he wrapped his arm around my waist and dragged me back inside, setting me down in one of the chairs where I stared mulishly at the table.

“What happened?” Axe asked with growing concern.

“Our noble host likes to hurt his daughter as far as I can tell,” Dane said with awful finality. “Something we need to work on changing during the rest of our stay.”

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