bruising. And each time she pets the nearest undamaged part of me with her soft, warm, tiny hand.
“There, that is better,” she announces with a nod before her eyes settle on my temple. “Is it very sore?”
Leaning over me, she inspects the scratch on my temple like my life might be under threat. Her small tits are in my face, and I’m trying not to look.
I look.
I like big tits, something to fill my big hands. She barely has more than a gentle swell, yet they hang down, perfect, round, and tipped by stiff nipples that tent her hide top.
My mouth fucking waters.
“No, lass,” I say, voice gruff. “I am fine thanks to your skilled ministrations.” The cut to my forehead feels small and troubles me much less than her soft fingers against the skin of my forehead as she brushes my hair aside.
Her natural scent fills my lungs. I am an Alpha who recognizes the faint hint of her lust.
“Okay,” she says, leaning even closer.
The fuck! Did she just kiss me?
I have her by the waist to thrust her away quicker than a flash, surging to my feet. Now that I’m standing, I realize how tiny she is. Her scent is stuck in my nose, and I cannot breathe it out. “What the fuck are you doing?” I demand.
“Kissing it better,” she says, face turning red as she wrings her small hands.
“Well, don’t fucking kiss a man better!” My hands are still on her waist… her tiny little waist. They go all the way around. I thrust her further away, chest heaving with the strain. “Do you do that often?” I demand. I am ready to end whoever the fuck she has put her lips upon.
“Only Brandon,” she says.
My nostrils flare. Fucking Brandon! I would love to snap that weak Beta’s neck for having her kiss. Not that he is a weak Beta, the bastard is a strapping man, but he is not an Alpha, so weak compared to me. He does not have my strength, nor my scent, nor my knot.
I envy the lack of knot given he could fill this cute little Beta lass up in ways I could not without a great deal of training.
Fuck! I will not think about that while her scent is in my lungs and her small trembling body within reaching distance.
“I am sorry,” she says. “It seemed natural that I should kiss you.” Her hands clamp tightly together, and her lips tremble like she might burst into tears. “I can see it was not appropriate for me to kiss a man from another clan, even an injured one. It was very forward of me. I don’t know why I did it.”
Now I have fucking upset the angel who was being kind to me. By rights, she should have run screaming at the sight of a bloody male from another clan.
“Hush, lass,” I say. I do not know what foolishness is going through my mind, but her tears are near enough to unman me, and I gather her into my arms. “Thank you for your care.”
Instinctively, I purr, although I have long understood that Betas find such a sound annoying. It makes my chest swell with joy when she softens against me.
“I was on my way to your clan when the Orc attacked me. It is not safe for you out here,” I say. “Allow me to escort you home.”
“Okay,” she says.
Reluctantly, I let her leave my arms.
She scrubs her damp cheeks.
“Oh!” Her gasp accompanies me lifting her into the saddle. I should be in terrible pain, but there is only the slightest twinge to my ribs.
I glance down, frowning as I notice the bruising has faded and nearly gone. The hairs on the back of my neck rise to attention. I do not worship the Goddess as often as I should. But I am humbled as I realize her presence has indeed been here today. When I meet the young lass’ eyes, I find she looks as shocked as I am.
“What is your name, lass?” I ask. I know her name, but it would reveal more than appropriate interest, should I admit as much.
“Jessa,” she says softly. She won’t look at me anymore.
Taking her chin gently, I turn her to face me, waiting patiently until her pretty green eyes meet mine.
“Thank you, Jessa,” I say. “I am Gage of the Lyon clan. Has this happened before?”
“No,” she says, earnest eyes holding mine. “What does it mean?”
“It means you are Goddess blessed,”