Claimed by the King: A BBW Bear Shifter Fantasy Romance (Shifters of Black Isle Book 1)

by Lorelei Moone

  They would keep her in the dark, figuratively, but she would be as free as any of the other inhabitants of the Black Isles. At least as far as her movements within the castle on Black Mountain were concerned.

  Still, it was for the best to be cautious. She did not need to know the truth about everything from the start. Humans did not handle it well when their views of the world were challenged.

  “I wish you’d reconsider and at least let me put a watch on her. We do not know of her intentions,” Teaq added.

  Broc scoffed. Her intentions. This was just going to be some unfortunate girl who thought she was being sent to her death.

  Just like the last ones.

  Lately Teaq had grown more and more paranoid. They had enough to worry about with the threats from further out at sea. As long as the humans continued to hold up their end of the truce, their peace would hold.

  “Alright. That’s enough of that,” Broc said. “We’ve laid down the rules already. But I won’t have her treated as a prisoner under my rule. Let’s get on with what we came here to do.”

  The many dozen or so soldiers onboard held their heads bowed as Broc strode past towards the port beam, which was by now perfectly lined up with the shoreline.

  Teaq signaled the all clear and jumped over the side, landing squarely on his feet in the waist-deep water. Broc followed.

  They were back on track, but this wasn’t the end of that particular discussion; Broc was certain of it. Teaq’s stubbornness was in part because as the older brother he’d always expected to get first right to the throne. He wasn’t good at following orders.

  Too bad for him that their father, the late King Ryk, hadn't seen it that way. They had fought it out just like in the old days. Hand-to-hand combat.

  Obviously, it was Broc’s victory that had earned him the honor of ruling over the Black Isles. Whether Teaq liked it or not.

  The salty water of the Northern Sea was close to freezing, but Broc—as well as the rest of his clan—were used to it. They were much better suited to cold temperatures than humans were.

  Despite the saltiness in the air, Broc could smell the human from across the stony beach. Her scent was sweet, almost floral, with a hint of something sharp. Fear, perhaps.

  His inner beast stirred. A new sort of sensation came over him. Although he hadn’t even seen her yet, he knew how this Reaping was going to end. She would be his. And she would give him his much awaited heir. It was a bittersweet prospect.

  The poor girl had no idea what was in store for her.

  Teaq took the lead, and Broc, flanked by two of his guards, followed towards the wooden post in the distance. Rhea stayed behind the men, keeping watch over the waters that separated them and the ship. The guards as well as Teaq had drawn their swords, just in case. Though the girl's was the only human scent in the air, they were trained never to make assumptions when it came to the king’s safety.

  Eight years since they'd last come here. King Ryk had been in charge of the last Reaping. How much had changed.

  Broc could now see the outline of a figure through the fog. She was tall for a human, though still a good two feet shorter than him, and clad in an ankle length cloak of some sort. Her curly hair blew wildly in the harsh wind, but there was no movement in her otherwise. Still, he could hear her heartbeat over the loud breeze. It was strong and regular; indicating that she was in good physical health.

  As they covered the last few feet between them, her sweet scent almost overwhelmed his senses.

  “Hold on.” Teaq gestured at Broc to wait behind him, but Broc was similarly bad at following orders.

  "What's your name, girl?" Teaq demanded, as he towered over her.

  The general’s harsh tone startled the girl, causing her to let out a quick yelp.

  Although she was now shivering in the cold wind, she didn't cower like Broc had come to expect from previous offerings. After the initial shock of finding herself no longer alone on the windswept beach, she had recovered quickly.

  Broc suppressed a smile. Teaq’s attempt to intimidate her had failed.

  "Kelly," she said in a firm voice. “Kelly Chaslain.”

  This was ridiculous. There was no threat here.

  "Well then, Kelly Chaslain of West Hythe." Broc stepped forward, and signaled Teaq to remove her bonds, who grudgingly obliged.

  "I am Broc Bearclaw, King of the Black Isles."

  She blinked at him a few times, her eyes glazed over and dull; her eyelids were heavy with exhaustion. Poor girl, she must have had quite the ordeal behind her already. Still, she was in excellent shape, all things considered.

  "And now you are coming with us," Broc said.

  "So it's true," she whispered, before her eyes closed and her knees gave way underneath her.

  Broc reacted quickly and caught her, just about. He wrapped her up in her woolen cloak and lifted her up in his arms.

  How tiny and fragile she was.

  Just at that moment, the fog lifted just enough to let some moonlight filter through. Her complexion shone almost white, her face flawless and unscarred, surrounded by a fiery red mane the likes of which Broc had never seen before.

  Of all the human women he had ever laid eyes on, not one had been as enthralling.

  The vision before him almost made him forget his reservations about the Reaping ritual. Almost.

  He caught himself a couple of seconds later, and forced his gaze away from Kelly’s unconscious form.

  Broc nodded at Teaq and the guards.

  It’s time to leave. They turned, retreating towards the ship with their latest clan member: Broc's new queen, Kelly Chaslain of West Hythe. Undoubtedly the most beautiful human alive.

  Would she adapt to their ways? Would she accept her role by his side as queen of the Black Isles? Would his people accept her as such?

  Only time would tell.

  Chapter Three

  Shadows circled Kelly. Inhumanly large figures, entirely in black. The clanging of weaponry and armor. A flag, flapping overhead, attempting to compete with the crashing waves.

  But among all the confusion, there was something familiar. A smiling face. Red hair like her own.

  You’re not alone. You’re safe here.

  “Mother?”

  Kelly startled awake, and covered her mouth with both hands to stop herself from screaming. Her heart beat so hard, the sound of it seemed to echo against the walls of the cell she found herself in.

  She closed her eyes again and inhaled deeply. The memory of her dreams was already fading. Where was she?

  Kelly blinked a few times. Her surroundings were unfamiliar. The dark, almost black stone walls looked like they belonged to a castle, not an ordinary building like the ones in her village. The bed she’d found herself in was much bigger than normal, both in width as well as length, meaning she had at least three feet of space below her feet despite being fully stretched out.

  Even the heavy wooden door was impossibly tall. There was not much light, no windows that she could see, just a flaming torch attached to an iron fitting on the wall.

  They had taken her. The giants that came to the beach.

  She was on the Black Isles somewhere. A barren rock in the middle of the Northern Sea.

  Kelly rubbed her eyes, and tried to remember what exactly had happened. The last thing she recalled was a face appearing above her in the dark of the misty beach. Two black eyes, set deeply in an angular, masculine face. His full beard covered part of a scar that extended from his high and pronounced cheekbone down to God only knows where.

  It was the face of her captor: Broc Bearclaw. King of the Black Isles.

  Everything after that was so fuzzy, it was beyond her reach.

  Remembering his introduction gave her shivers all the way down her spine. She had tried not to show fear, to appear brave, but his deep, almost threatening voice had made her weak inside. And that was ignoring how impossibly tall he was.

  Of course they’re tall. They’re giants
, after all!

  Now that she was alone, recounting these events in her head, she was second-guessing everything that had happened during their first encounter. Why on earth had she introduced herself with her mother’s maiden name rather than her own family name? What difference did a name make when you were going to be a prisoner, anyway?

  All she could recall was that saying her mother’s name aloud had given her some semblance of strength. If only she had still been alive today, she would have never allowed Kelly to be taken as a sacrifice. All Kelly had for support was that name.

  Kelly shook her head. She had to focus, if she was going to get through this somehow.

  She looked around again.

  This room where she had been left almost seemed too comfortable considering her desperate situation. She was their prisoner now, their slave, and yet, the bed on which they laid her down was more comfortable than the small cot she’d shared with Ferris for as long as she could remember.

  She leaned up on both elbows and noticed that she was no longer wearing the same clothing as last night. Instead of her sensible long frock, with the woolen cloak, she was now clad in a soft, shimmery nightgown. The thought of someone taking her clothes off while she was unconscious made her feel even more vulnerable. She could only hope these people—no, these giants, had made a female perform that particular task, otherwise the shame would be unbearable.

  They had females here, didn’t they?

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud metallic click and the creaking of the door. Quickly, Kelly dropped back into her soft pillow and closed her eyes, pretending to still be sleeping.

  “Aw, look at that, she’s still resting,” a deep, yet unmistakably female voice said.

  Kelly breathed a near silent sigh of relief. At least it wasn’t the king, or the other, even scarier giant who had collected her from the shore.

  “Humans… And to think that they won the mainland, whereas we have to live on this miserable rock in the water,” another female sneered.

  Kelly’s heartbeat sped up so much, it was almost deafening in her own ears. Still, she didn’t move a muscle.

  After she heard the clanging of metallic objects near her, two sets of footsteps shuffled away and the door creaked again, shutting with the same metallic click.

  Carefully, she opened her eyes and noticed a platter with a dome shaped cover on the table beside her. She lifted it and immediately the delicious scent of bacon entered her nostrils. Her stomach spasmed painfully, reminding her of how hungry she was. Although she had planned to be cautious, she couldn’t resist.

  She’d need her energy if she wanted to escape later. At least that was her justification. Surely they wouldn’t have brought her here just to poison her first meal?

  So she ate like it was her last meal on earth, because perhaps, it would be. Once they noticed she was awake, who knew what would happen.

  Surprisingly, the food was amazing. Kelly hadn’t considered that a bunch of barbarians living out in the sea would know good food when they saw it.

  Yet the bacon, as well as the bread, were as good, if not better than what she had grown up with. On those rare occasions her family could afford bacon, that was. Their staple fare had been eggs from their own chickens, and stew made of the various vegetables that grew on their land.

  A pig was a rare and prized possession on the mainland. Not many could afford it.

  As soon as she had finished dabbing up the last crumbs of food from the pewter plate with her finger tip, something stirred in the dark far corner of the room. She was so startled she dropped the platter, which made an almighty racket upon hitting the stone floor.

  That part of the room was so dark, she hadn’t noticed anything—or anyone—there before.

  “Well,” that same impossibly deep voice she’d heard when they picked her up at the beach said. “At least you’ve got a good appetite. Not like the last one.”

  With a loud creak, the figure stood up from what must have been a big chair or bench hidden in the shadows.

  Kelly was breathless and terrified, as she tried to scurry away backwards. The headboard prevented any further retreat.

  The large outline of the giant man came into view, details on his strange attire shimmering in the dim light of the torch on the wall as he approached.

  Broc, the king of the giants, Kelly remembered.

  “How long have you been watching?” Kelly stammered.

  “I entered with Rhea and Bree when they brought in the food.”

  Kelly blinked at him in disbelief. He snuck in with the two females? She hadn’t heard his footsteps, or noticed his presence at all.

  “We can be stealthy when we want to be,” the man grinned, making something inside Kelly’s chest stir.

  Although he was terrifyingly tall, and built like an ox, now in the privacy of this room, his face wasn’t as menacing and scary as it had seemed in the darkness of the beach. The warm light from the torch on the wall helped.

  “I see.”

  “Now that you’re awake, perhaps you ought to get dressed and get to know your new family.” The way he spoke suggested a certain unexpected warmth. After all the stories she’d heard growing up of the barbaric giants, she hadn’t considered that they were capable of compassion.

  “What’s going to happen to me?” Kelly whispered, still confused about what fate would be in store for her.

  “I understand this isn’t what you wanted for yourself. Believe me if there was another way, we’d do away with the Reaping ritual.” Broc paused for a moment, then added, “Where we take in a human girl once every eight years.”

  Kelly slowly shook her head, no, this wasn’t how she’d wanted her life to turn out.

  “It’s a necessity for us, for our survival. But you’ll learn about that soon enough. What matters is that you’re safe here. You’ll not be harmed.”

  Another sigh of relief escaped her lips before she could regain her composure.

  Kelly suddenly remembered the voice she’d heard in her dreams. Her mother’s voice.

  You’re safe here.

  He sounded genuine, and she desperately wanted to believe him. She had worried so much already. She was exhausted.

  If he was speaking the truth, perhaps she should go along with it all to gain the giants’ trust and an opportunity to escape would present itself soon enough. Whether they were compassionate or not, she still had no intention of staying on this island any longer than necessary.

  Broc turned and reached the door in barely two strides, turning back just once. “Bree left a few things for you in the wardrobe. I can send her in to help dress you.”

  Remembering the sharp comments from the two women who had brought her food, she quickly shook her head.

  “No, I think I’d prefer to get ready on my own.”

  Broc shrugged, then turned the iron handle on the door, opening it with the same almighty creak it had made before.

  He’d lock it from the outside, no doubt. There’d be no point in trying to open it myself once he’s gone, Kelly thought glumly.

  As soon as the large wooden structure clicked back into place, Kelly attempted to stretch the lingering exhaustion out of her tired shoulders. Passing out from fear did not make for a good rest.

  She turned, and hung her legs down the side of the bed, noting that it was quite a bit taller than beds were back home. Of course it was.

  Everything was bigger here, including the people.

  Kelly took a few careful steps towards the large wardrobe, also in the dark corner of the room, and waited for her eyesight to adjust. The cold of the stone floor stung the bottom of her feet, but at least the air wasn’t too chilly, letting her take her time rifling through the unfamiliar fabrics hidden behind the wardrobe’s beautifully carved doors. Eventually, she picked out a gown of sorts that wasn’t as elaborate as most of the others, though without taking it over to the bed, she couldn’t make out exactly what color it was. How did these people live in t
hese dark and gloomy conditions? Did they not need to see?

  She stumbled back into the light and lay the gown across her mattress to take a better look.

  It was a deep burgundy, like poppies about to wilt. She ran her fingertips over the smooth fabric down the front, as well as the intricate metallic looking embroidery at the neck line. She’d never seen a dress this ornate and elegant before. It was certainly vastly different from the plain woolens she was accustomed to wearing.

  Turning it over, she noticed there was a lace-up back, and suddenly Kelly regretted refusing the help she’d been offered. Disappointed, she went back to the wardrobe, picking out another two gowns, a black one and a golden one. Upon closer inspection the latter seemed a bit more loose fitting and easier to manage on her own.

  Kelly put it on, and bemoaned the lack of a mirror in the room. She could only hope she looked somewhat presentable. The moment she had finished adjusting the braided belt around her waist, the door clicked again and revealed the tallest woman Kelly had ever seen.

  “My name is Bree, I’m supposed to assist you in any way possible. Your name is Kelly Chaslain, am I right?”

  The woman, Bree, towered almost a foot over Kelly, who was already above average height compared to the other girls from her village.

  Kelly nodded, but was lost for words otherwise.

  “Broc requests your presence in the main hall. I see you’re already dressed. Good. Will you follow me?”

  Looking back at the two discarded gowns on the bed, Kelly hesitated.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of those, Kelly Chaslain,” Bree said with a smile.

  “Thanks,” Kelly mumbled, “You can just call me Kelly.” She clumsily followed Bree toward the door. It took her almost four steps to cross the same distance the king had previously travelled in just two steps.

  It occurred to Kelly that she had felt out of place most her life, because she was broader, taller and not as delicate than the other girls. Yet here, on the Black Isles, she felt so small. Under any other circumstances, the entire situation would almost be funny.