her chest that I do not believe is for Brandon.
“You can visit them soon,” I say. “Give the news a chance to settle. Then we can all go back together, and I can meet your family.”
“Thank you!” she says. Throwing her arms around my neck, she plants a chaste kiss upon my cheek.
“That was not a proper thank you, lass,” I say. It feels like too long since I rutted her. Having her pressed against me, my nose full of her breeding scent, has a predictable effect.
The job is done. She is with child. Yet my cock is eager for more. Gods, I can’t wait for her belly and tits to grow. If my cock has any say in it, she will spend the rest of her blood moon years plump with whelps in her belly.
Thoughts of rutting are quashed when the cat comes trotting in. “Oh! Can I pet him now?” Jessa asks.
I don’t get a chance to answer as she wriggles down from my lap. She has already scooped the tiny killer up and is clutching him to her chest. The cat presents his chin for a deeper petting as she rubs underneath.
Damn cat!
I’m about to demand she put the cat down so I can carry her to the furs before Brandon returns, when the servants arrive with lunch.
Feeding her is more important than rutting, and I can rut her straight after. Barely have I extracted the cat from her hands and put her on my lap when Brandon arrives. He seems different, and his side of the bond thrums with contentment.
“It is my turn,” Brandon says, striding over and holding out his arms.
“You did not want a fucking turn this morning,” I point out.
“I want a turn now.” The mutt has the nerve to scowl at me, and this after all his ridicule this morning.
“Oh, please, do not fight again,” Jessa says like we fight all the fucking time.
“We have fought exactly once, lass,” I point out. There has been the odd thump in between, but that is hardly worthy of the ‘fight’ title. “And we will not need to fight again so long as the mutt—”
Cupping my face in her small hands, her earnest eyes hold mine. “Brandon should have a turn. It is only right.”
A tic thumps in my jaw. I can sense Brandon’s smugness through the bond! I know I should do this, should let him have his turn, but it is hard. He has had her all to himself for many weeks. And he has known her all his life. I feel aggrieved that I barely know the lass.
I want more. I want an equal share. I want her to myself for one fucking moment, but it seems I cannot have even that.
It is our first day in the clan. I have brought them here, separating them from their families and friends.
“He may have a turn,” I concede.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Jessa
AFTER A WEEK, I am starting to find my way around the village and get to know the people. I spend the morning with Pete’s wife, a kindly Beta with three young lads who are the image of their father.
But when I return to the great hall, I find Gage and Brandon eyeballing each other. A few servants are pretending to be doing chores. They are not doing chores. They are being stickybeaks and will doubtless gossip about my fool mates the moment they leave.
I thought they had reached an understanding when we first arrived at the Lyon clan. I was wrong, so very wrong. Gage is an Alpha and used to getting his way. Brandon is mule-headed for a wolf and fights him over every point.
Hands on hips, I glare at them. “You are acting like a pair of whelps. This fighting needs to stop.”
“We are not fighting. We were discussing matters,” Gage says. “Not that we ever fought. Fighting would imply some level of equality.”
“I’m going to rip your fucking throat out,” Brandon growls.
“Try it, mutt, and I’ll be using your pelt to wipe my boots.”
I move to stand between the posturing males, putting a hand on them both. Instantly they stop their bickering and start purring.
Then they both step forward as one, and the air crackles with a different kind of tension.
“No!” I say, planting a hand in the center of Gage’s chest. He is the more dominant of the two, and it is Gage I need to reason with. It doesn’t help that a flutter kicks off low in my belly.
“She