Stolen (Royally Hot 1)

The bastard who’d ambushed Sara at Angelica’s, still covered in dried pig shit but somewhat cleaner around his face, was closing the front gate of the house that stood beside the crumbling ruin.

“Oh no.” Sara squeezed my arm as she stared at the man. “I thought he seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place him. He must have recognized me. Known my father. Perhaps one of his drinking friends.”

“I told you already, I won’t let anything happen to you, Sara. Not now, not ever.”

The shit-covered man took a quarter turn, spotted me, and made the wise decision to head the other way, disappearing into the woods on the other side of the road.

Sara drew a jagged breath through her nose. “My father will be so angry. You don’t know him.”

“No harm will come to you. Trust me sweet Sara.” I did my best to keep the already bubbling rage from my voice lest I scare her more.

“I do, it’s just…”

“Just nothing. Stay by my side.” The fear in her voice and in her trembling chin only spun the murderous fury I already felt into a ball of hate growing in my centre.

As we came upon the small, ill-kept stone house, I unlatched the gate and held it open as a man I presumed to be her father burst through the front door with evil in his eyes.

“You little slut,” he snarled. “So that’s how you’ve been earning your extra coin, is it? Opening your legs?” He leapt forward as I reacted, but before I could stop him, he grabbed Sara hard by the face and began to unbuckle his belt for a whipping. “I’ll show you a lesson, you little whore-in-training. I’ll teach you to…”

Motherfucker. Death was too good for him.

He only had a second of his hand on her before I got to him. I was an animal protecting his mate in that moment—nothing more, nothing less. I felt my knuckles connect with something that crunched under the force of my blow, and felt the familiar slippery warmth of blood on my hands, the scent of iron and salt barely cutting through my rage-fueled haze.

I heard Sara’s yelp, her pleading voice, but some things are between men.

For me, the fury of close quarters fighting was impenetrable. It had always been that way. Tactically, I could plan and move and pick off my enemy, cold and calculated as any commander I’d ever known. But once I was in the melee of fists and blood and blows, I no longer had control of my senses. But as soon as Sara touched my shoulder, something changed. That battle-craze faded and I heard her, heard her words.

“Bors, stop. Stop it.” Her calm yet firm voice cut through the fog.

Her delicate touch and gentle words had more power than my long-honed instincts as a fighter, living to protect and defend. Her voice was a balm, the only thing that could break me from the moment.

Her father lay at my feet, his nose bloodied and crooked. But he was a scrappy fighter and he returned on a groan to his feet and spit out a tooth.

“Who the hell do you think you are? She’s my daughter.” He spat the words at me with blood dripping over his lips, cracking his knuckles, ready for more. “She’s my property. And I’ll do with her as I please.”

“The fuck you will,” I spat back. “I came here for one purpose and one purpose only. To deliver a warning.”

“A warning?” His face screwed up in confusion. “From who?”

“From me. You don’t deserve her. From now on, she’s under my protection and in my care. This is no longer her home. You come near her with intentions of anything but kindness and reverence, you’ll find out what lies on the other side of this life for you. And I doubt it’s heaven.”

Sara let out a gasp. She seemed to be trying to find words as she blinked her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. “What do you mean?”

I took her by the back of her head, holding her just hard enough so she understood who she belonged to now. “Tell me it’s not what you want too. Or just say yes.”

“Yes.” The single word, barely a whisper lit up something inside of me I thought long dead.

Hope.

She grinned, throwing her arms around me, shot her father a withering glance, and muttered, “Goodbye, father.” She looked down where she still held the basket in her hands dropping it on the ground. “You will need to find someone else to peddle your wares at the market.”

I breathed deep, knowing upon this moment, my life turned. I clasped her delicate hand in my ogre’s fist and turned us back around. Thoughts of her womanly curves and childlike dimple nearly surging spend from the crown of my already-swollen cock.