by L. V. Lane
My mother—how I miss her every day. I was ten summers old when she died in childbirth.
I remember my father’s stricken face as the midwife tended to her. My younger siblings cried even though they did not know what was wrong.
I dreamed of the day I met my late husband. I dreamed of the day we married. And I dreamed of the day the soldier captain knocked on the cottage door to tell me he was gone.
Grief, it is a strange acquaintance that once met, never really goes.
Life is full of ups and downs. It is never flat or still.
My head aches.
Not for the first time since I left my father’s cottage, I feel very alone.
I wonder what will happen to Nola? I heard Jack order her punishment, but I don’t remember much else.
Approaching footsteps draw me from my introspection, and Jack enters the bedding chamber. My breath catches seeing his imposing figure. I don’t think I will ever look upon him without wonder that this man is now my mate.
Also, as per usual, he wears only hide pants and boots. Does the Alpha never wear any clothes? He is a test to my stupid girl parts that he must parade around half naked!
“How do you feel?” he asks.
I want to say I’m fine. But I believe I do not look fine and lying will make him cross. He is at war, I remember. He probably has better things to worry about than me. “I am fine,” I say.
He huffs out a breath, but his stern face softens. He strides for the bed, instilling a fearfulness that makes me want to flee. “Hush, lass,” he says, gathering both me and the soft fur pelt up. “You do not look fine. You look like I need to go and whip someone for letting this happen to you.”
The conviction with which he speaks is unsettling. He is an Alpha, I need to remind myself, and they are very different in ways to a Beta.
“Today, I will show you your new home. I will introduce you to your people so that they might not be confused about who you are.”
“I didn’t—”
He stills the beginnings of babbled words by pressing his lips to mine briefly. My breath catches, for even that gentle touch stirs feelings inside that are hitherto foreign to me. “You did naught wrong,” he says, looking at me in a stern way that reminds me, as if I could ever forget, that he is an Alpha. The memory of the outraged scream as I lay basking beside the pool is grating on my nerves. The wildness as I was dragged from the site naked and driven with sticks and jeers back to Ralston will haunt my dreams.
I’d tried to speak, only to suffer the sting of the willow until I was silenced once again.
The sun had been high when they found me at the pool.
The sun was sinking when Jack finally returned, and my misery was ended.
My shiver does not go unnoticed. Jack’s response is a growl. “She will pay for her crime with her life,” he says.
“No, please!” I do not know this man well, but those words make me realize how great the gulf is.
“She wanted to kill you,” he points out, hands tightening on me. She had certainly compelled the crowd to do just that.
Death? I have seen too much death in my short life. There was a moment as the sun faded when I expected to join those I once knew at the Goddess’ side. “I cannot be the reason that someone dies,” I say quietly instead. “The others did not know who I was. You cannot blame them.”
He continues to growl, and it sets the hairs on the back of my neck rising.
“Are you at war?” I ask before I can think better about how this reveals that I was snooping.
His growl softens to a purr. “We are,” he says. That he says ‘we’ and not ‘I’ has a jarring impact on me, reminding me that this is my home now. “But that is not a worry for now. First, we shall break the fast. After, I will show you your home.”
I don’t want to meet the people here again. They have all seen me naked and shamed. I am sure I shall not like anyone.
My stomach rumbles, stirring a chuckle from my mate.
Lifted from the bed while still enswathed in a pelt, he carries me out to the main hall of his home.
Many people bustle about inside while the double doors are open wide. Beyond, I see and hear the industry of people busy. I bury my face in his chest. But I am given no opportunity to hide since he sits at the head of the table and places me on his lap. A bowing older lady arrives with a child, both bearing a platter of food. A jug and earthen cups are set beside the platter before us on the table. Unlike last time, none of the people present look at me. They are all very pointedly looking elsewhere as they go about their duties.
Like at my father’s cottage, Jack selects a morsel and holds it to my lips that I might eat.
“I can feed myself,” I say a little mulishly.
He smirks. “Open,” he says, staring at my mouth in a way that makes me breathless. I open. He places the berry inside, watching as I chew contentedly on the succulent fruit, enjoying the sugary taste as it fills my mouth.
There are many people in the room, busy with chores, but Jack’s eyes never leave me. He watches me as he feeds me, kissing me between bites, toying with my hair, and running his hands soothingly over my back, ass, and arms. Surrounded by him as I am, the attention unnerves me.
The arrival of the huge Alpha he called Glen draws my attention and a growl from Jack. It softens to a purr as I turn back to my mate. He feeds me another bite. Suddenly, I’m feeling a little squirmy and needy for reasons I cannot explain. Jack’s nostrils flare. “My mate has needs,” he says, not looking at the waiting Alpha. “Has Nola been suitably punished?”
Jack tugs the pelt a little exposing my right breast to his gaze.
“Yes, Jack,” Glen says. “She has not lacked for willing Alphas to see to her punishment. What are your orders for her now?”
Jack cups my breast in his big hand, his eyes locked with mine as if daring me to complain. As he captures the nipple and gives a gentle tug. A needy whimper escapes my tightly sealed lips.
“A slave and a gift to the Halket clan. Make sure the Alphas who deliver her, remind her often of her new status.”
No sooner does Glen’s footsteps retreat than the platter upon the table is swept away. The sound as things crash to the floor is jarring. I am put onto the table in their place, and my legs opened before my mate’s lustful gaze. “I will see these curls shaved today,” he says, running a thick finger the length of my pussy lips. “I will enjoy being able to see all of this pretty pussy . . . Now it’s time I had my breakfast.”
“Goddess! This is unseemly!” I say, trying to wriggle away.
He only smirks, unseating me as he drags me to the edge of the table before lowering his head and feasting. I hear the scraping sounds that suggest someone has come to collect the discarded breakfast things, but I screw my eyes shut and pretend it’s not happening. I did not know a man might be so obsessed with this kind of thing. It feels like he is trying to fuck me with his tongue.
When he swipes up to lavish my clit with attention, I bite my lips lest I make a sound.
The smack against my thigh is sharp. My eyes flash open to find Jack staring down the table at me. With a gleam in his eyes, he tugs the fur from my body and tosses it to the floor. “Play with your tits while I enjoy my breakfast,” he says.
My breath stutters. I try to ignore the servant sweeping up the mess—it is clear that Jack is neither bothered nor about to stop.
“Do you need to feel the strap?” he warns softly. The gentleness with which he tended me last night is gone. The man before me is an Alpha with needs. I will do as he says, or he will use the strap. Face flaming, my hands skim up my body until they cup my breasts. I bite my lip hard when even the light brush of my fingers feels good.
Another smack lands, sharper, and I gasp, shooting a scowl at the demanding male.
“Do not bite your fucking lip. I want to hear you. I want everyone to hear all the sounds my mate makes while her Alpha is feasting. Now, pinch your nipples nice and hard.”
<
br /> I am terrified of the strap and yet, deeply aroused. My pussy pulses as I pinch my nipples, and a moan escapes my lips. Then Jack’s head lowers, and I am lost. My legs are spread wider and tossed over his shoulders. A position that is vulnerable and offers no means of escape. He licks and kisses me with noisy growls and groans. My hips are soon rolling and humping his face as I try to get more of his wicked tongue.
I come with stuttered garbled nonsense, gasping, riding his face without care.
It is only after, as I lay panting, and he rises over me to spear me with his cock that I remember where I am.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jack
I TOLD MYSELF I would be gentle with the lass, but I have already failed.
The room has cleared of people, but I know all are aware of what I do and who I do it with.
And why I do it, for I want no one confused about what Hazel is to me.
It does not help me to find restraint when she takes to the rutting so well. There is not a murmur of discomfort as I plow her with my cock.
There is still my knot for her to take—for her to be trained to take—but this is also fucking nice.
Her tits jiggle as I rut her over the table, bouncing under the force of my thrusts. The few things left on the surface bang and rattle about. My knot aches. It grows worse with every rutting, and I temper the need to bury it in her pussy.
I lift her ankles high so that they rest against my shoulders. The position holds her open for my ravishment as I slam in and out. “Clench your pussy,” I demand.
I pin her legs to me and begin to fuck her hard and fast. Her mouth pops open, and her pussy starts that sweet fisting thing it does, encouraging me to spill my seed. The urge to ram my knot deep and experience those heavenly contractions around my thick swelling is near irresistible. Somehow, I grit my teeth and convince myself this is just enough and spill my load with a deep growl.
“Goddess!” she squeals, wriggling when I let my knot sink against her pussy.
It is just a little test, I tell myself. It is only half-formed without full penetration, although I know should I thrust it inside her, it would soon lock.
“Hush, lass,” I say, purring as I rock my hips a little. Even this small amount of stretching feels fucking good. “I will need to begin training you to take my knot later.” And her ass—I will also need to start training her ass.
And her mouth. There is much training to be done all around. At this rate, I shall never leave the fucking furs.
As I leave her warmth, and a great spat of our combined cum hits the floor.
She makes cute little whining noises and clamps her hand over her pussy like she has a hope of holding it all in. I am not best pleased with the people I rule over presently, so some other fucker can clean it up.
I purr for her as I lift her. I have not purred for anyone since I was a child. It is strange to know that she likes it when my first mate never did.
I steel myself for the pain that comes with Lesa’s memory, but it is not as sharp today. We live and die by the Goddess’ design. She is as often cruel as she is gracious in her gifts. As I carry my sweet little Beta mate back to the bedding chamber, I think upon life and upon loss. Who knows when this joy might be snatched from me? That is no way to live fearing what next, so I focus on what I have and the now.
“I have only just gotten up,” she says a little waspishly, reminding me of an angry little kitten, all fierce and yet not much of a threat. “And I have two legs. They will assuredly cease to function if you insist on carrying me everywhere!”
“No need for whining, lass,” I say, grinning. “I do not think being carried twice will cause you great problems.” I place her carefully against the soft pelts. “I will need to rut you again later. Best you let me tend to any soreness now.”
“I can put it on myself!”
She squeaks as I grasp her ankle, unseating her and opening her pretty thighs in one move. The little stoppered bottle rests on the table beside the bed. She gets a couple of smacks to her bottom when she curses. Seething, she lays still and allows me to check her and add a little oil. Her little pussy is all pink, puffy, and full of my seed. I was not very gentle at the table, but it is her own fault for being so perfect that I cannot resist.
I glance up when I hear a noise that sounds a lot like a moan. Her arm is flung across her eyes, and she is biting her lip. Poor little Beta is cursed to enjoy all my attention, even as I try to soothe her with the healing oil. Her pretty tits turn flushed as I work my fingers in nice and deep. I am only being a diligent mate. I am not purposely trying to taunt.
She growls when I stop, bringing a smirk to my lips. “Do you want me to carry on?” I ask. “Do you need me to get you off?”
“No!” Her outrage is both swift and fake.
“Sweet lass. There is no shame in being lusty. I know you have already come twice this morning. But it is my duty to care for you in all ways. Do you need my cock again, or would you prefer my fingers or tongue?”
She snatches up the nearest pelt covering her nakedness.
I growl, taking the pelt in hand and tugging it away. “You do not fucking cover yourself from me!” I say, eyes narrowing. “Did we not cover this yesterday?” I don’t know why she is protesting so much. I’m confident that should I leave her alone for a moment, her small fingers will be rubbing her fat little clit until she comes by her own hand.
“I do not need to come,” she repeats.
My face softens as I take in the whole of her, including the faint bruising where the switch landed. I trace my finger along the line over her arm before leaning in to brush it with my lips. “Yesterday was not as I would wish. I’m sorry for that. I would like you to rest today. Tomorrow, I will begin training you for my pleasure.”
She swallows, and her slim thighs twitch in a way that says she is not averse to my plans.
A polite knock comes to the entrance to the bedding chamber, rousing my attention from my mate. Turning, I find Jessa waiting there. Jessa is a sweet lass with not a bit of spite in her. A much better disposition to care for my mate. She bobs a quick bow. Her hands are laden with a great bundle of pelts and soft things as might make a perfect nest.
“I have the pelts, sire,” she says, shooting a swift glance at my mate before lowering her lashes.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Hazel
JESSA IS A sweet young woman and nothing like Nola. She helps me into a short tunic dress made of hide before showing me where I can go. It is right behind the building, as one might expect. Then she insists that all the pelts she brought should be placed to my liking on Jack’s giant bed.
It seems like too many furs for one bed. But she’s insistent. She is also nice to me, and I don’t want to offend my new friend.
So all the pelts go on until it resembles a giant animal nest.
I secretly admire the deeply layered softness. Who doesn’t like to sleep somewhere soft? Jessa assures me this is perfectly acceptable.
I’m doubtful. But it is blissful.
I’m tired from the rutting and the stress of yesterday, so I sleep through the afternoon.
Then Jack returns. His purr is absolutely manic when he finds me in the pelt mountain. He puts me on my hands and knees and ruts me so wildly that the thick pelts are tossed all over the place. He seems pleased about the mess he has made. After, he tucks me against him, throwing a heavy leg and arm over me until I can barely breathe.
My panicky wriggling sees him pin me tighter, and closing his teeth over the back of my neck, he bites down. Despite this making no sense, I drift straight into sleep.
We fall into a pattern over the next few days. I explore a little more of this community that is now my home every day. Nola has been sent as a slave gift to a neighboring clan. The Beta was not well liked, I soon learn, and other than her mother, who yet lives here, few are sorry she has gone. Those who I meet now are full of deference toward me. I make a few friends among the women and soon
have chores I can help with when Jack is not demanding my attention.
I have always enjoyed cooking, and such tasks add a pleasant kind of purpose. Many of the women are with child or have little ones running about. The children are always up to some mischief or other, and I laugh a lot.
But there is an underlying tension for Jack’s brother, Fen, still has not returned. Then there is the looming war that is sparking between a neighboring clan and us. There have been a couple of minor skirmishes, but the tension is building, and I worry about what will happen next.
But it is now morning again, and as per routine, Jack feeds me and then feeds upon me. Hitherto meeting Jack, I did not know this was a thing that men engaged in. Maybe it is an Alpha thing?
Alas, today’s feasting is interrupted by the arrival of his second Alpha, Glen.
“Your brother has returned,” Glen says. Throwing an arm across my eyes, I try not to think about my position of being laid open upon the huge oak table with my mate’s head between my thighs. I was very close and want badly to snarl my displeasure at the male who interrupts us, even as flames engulf my cheeks.
Jack growls against my pussy—I think I come a little—before he surges to his feet.
“The whelp can wait,” he says. Grasping my wrist, he tugs my arm from over my eyes and pins it to the table while reaching for his belt with the other hand.
He spears me in a single thrust. News of his brother has stoked his aggression, and he ruts me roughly. I think Glen might have left, but I’m too busy enjoying myself. When Jack first rutted me, he would be careful to keep the burgeoning knot outside. Now I feel the little ridge sliding against my pussy entrance with every thrust, and he only holds it outside when it swells as he comes.
His face is an image of stern determination. I gasp and sometimes squeal when he surges too deeply, and the pleasure turns to pain. Big hands grasp my waist as he shuttles in and out.
