Hunted: A Claiming Novella (The Claiming) (2 page)

Ryon pulled the folded missive out of
his pocket and flashed it at her.

“Oh…that,” she said vaguely, cheeks
turning redder. They both knew why he was here. She was the only one
pretending.

The duke wouldn’t have any of it.

“Listen here, General, I’ve come with
good money here so let the girl dance.” The duke leaned forward and wrapped an
arm around Penelope’s small waist. His hand dipped even lower to grab a feel of
something he had no right touching.

Ryon told himself that what he did next
was because of that inappropriate grope and not because of his possessive
feelings for Pen.

Murmuring a brief excuse for what he was
about to do, Ryon whipped the duke’s hand away and ducked, pushing his shoulder
into Penelope’s midriff in the next second. He lifted her up and over his
shoulder so easily you’d think he did it often. In fact, a feeling of
déjà
vu
struck him.

They
had
done this once before
under similar circumstances. And look where that had landed them.

There was no stopping him now. He had
everyone’s attention trying to steal their most talented dancer. But no one
dared to stop the general. Not even the duke dared to stop him with the hard
look Ryon sent his way. Everyone by now had heard the tentative history between
Ryon and Pen.

Tonight it was all coming to an end.

He could feel the tightness in her
muscles as he waded through the crowd, could feel her nails scraping into his
back where she hung on for dear life, possibly puncturing his skin—on purpose.
Ryon made it through the dance hall and out the back door, one arm latching
Penelope’s rear-end to him.

It wasn’t the closest he’d ever held
her, but it was the most he’d touched her in a long time. He’d take it. Having
her touch him felt far
better
than not.

Outside he hitched her higher on his
shoulder, not even feeling her slight weight, and marched to the woods with
only one place in mind.

Maybe in a way it was
their
place.
It was the only time she’d ever opened up to him and admitted her feelings for
him. He’d been stunned stupid by her honest, raw statement, and staggered by
the passion of their kiss. After their first kiss, like a young fool, he’d been
unable to speak for a long minute. And, typical to any naïve fool, he’d said
something he still regretted to this day.

“Do you mind telling me what you’re
doing, General?”

Penelope’s anger jerked him swiftly back
to reality and out of his reverie.

There it was again. The nickname, not
his real name. She never used it; it was too personal. If she gave him a
chance, maybe she’d see how much he knew about her, how much he cared.

For this he needed to be face to face,
so he readjusted her in his arms so that he cradled her to his chest like a
baby. She reluctantly wrapped an arm around his neck—and resumed glaring at him
like she wished he’d drop dead.

“You shouldn’t frown like that,” he told
her.

“Why not?” An instant, snapping
response.

“Because it makes me want to kiss you.”

Her breath hitched. He’d surprised her.
Who knew he was a man of surprises, aside from using his cleverness in military
strategies. He’d never thought before that he could use those same skills
toward wooing Pen. But the idea sounded better and better the longer he thought
about it.

Slender fingers toyed with the hair at
the nape of his neck. He nearly stumbled a step when she pressed her cheek
again his. Gentle breath teased his ear and his grip tightened around her
reflexively. She always managed to catch him by surprise. Just one of the many
things he appreciated about her.

The effect she had over him had been
there from the moment he first saw her. Any move she made touched him like a
bolt of energy, left him aroused and edgy. Even the simplest touch such as her
wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling closer made his vision hazy.

From how they must look you’d think
she’d asked to be carried out of the club and not forced. He didn’t have much
further to go.

They were nearly there. Not much longer,
then he could put her down—a bittersweet thought.

“Do you want to kiss me?” A teasing
whisper blew across the shell of his ear with each word.

He didn’t hesitate. “You know I do.”

The quiet woods surrounded them in solitude.
Only the light from the stars guided them on this fortuitous night.

She caressed his cheek with hers,
rubbing like a cat, grazing the stubble on his jaw with her soft skin. Chills
swept down his spine. As always her touch aroused him, hardening his cock.

Thank God. They finally made it to his
destination. Ryon set her down near the edge of the pond. Their pond.

Pen looked around and laughed, her smile
lighting up her face.

“The pond? I suppose I shouldn’t be
surprised.” She kicked off her heels and stepped into the water before he could
say a word. “Do you want to see me get wet, General?” A playful light graced
her sparkling eyes.

He stifled a groan, or maybe a curse.
“You are a tease, Pen. Always have been.” Here he came to talk privately about
the royal missive he’d received and she was already taking control of the
situation. She always managed to rip the power from him with careless ease.

Or maybe he allowed her to take control,
he supposed.

Her face lit up with delight at his
proclamation and not with a touch of shame. He loved that about her.

Tossing her head back, she laughed
throatily. “You make it sound like a bad thing. Look at you all grumbling about
because you heard about my Claiming. You know you’re my favorite. Surely you
know that.” Her pretty, almond-shaped eyes softened.

“That’s as close to a confession as I’ve
ever heard. I suppose I’ll take what I can get,” Ryon said.

Pen looked away avoiding his gaze. “You
received the missive then?”

“You should have told me yourself.”

The statement hung out there like an
accusation.

He wasn’t afraid to admit what she did
bothered him. She should have come to him, should have told him. Everyone in
the kingdom knew he’d been trailing after her scent for two years. He had
thought that he simply needed more time to break down her defenses.

Not for his lack of trying. But he could
only get so far while trying to tamper his aggression. His tightfisted nature
shook her up and he’d yet to soften enough for her apparently.

 She already thought he was too
dominant for his own good. Or so she’s said. Didn’t she see how badly he wanted
her? He needed her to end his torture and finally put him out of his misery.

“I suppose I was too nervous to tell you
myself. I only learned that I’d been chosen last week.” She waded deeper into
the water, raising her sequined dress higher to reveal shapely thighs. The
water level rose to lap at her tantalizingly milky calves, shapely with muscle
from years of dancing. He watched her move gracefully through the water on the
tips of her toes, riveted. 

“A cowardly move,” he chastised.

“Perhaps. But I’m not the only one here
who’s a coward. Am I, General?” Her teasing banter was punctuated with a
heated, low-lidded look. She looked at him from dazzling copper eyes.

When she had fun it was contagious. That
laughter threatened to weaken Ryon’s own defense; his mouth twitched to laugh.
Something he couldn’t let happen.

“I’m here right now. I don’t think that
makes me a coward.” He was daring her to be honest. But would she rise to the
bait?

“Do you like my new dress?”

The question took him by surprise. But
no more than what she did next.

With a laugh, she flicked one of her
dress’s strap off her shoulder. The material slipped down to reveal a whole
glimpse of overflowing mounds of supple flesh. This sight of her breasts barely
being contained by her tight top had muscles tensing in his neck until they
felt ready to snap.

He advanced toward her. “Stop this and
come out of there. We need to talk about this.”

“My darling General, why don’t you join
me instead?” She took one long look at him and that was it—she had him pinned.
Nothing was worse than a beautiful woman getting the hold of you and Penelope
had him lined up in her sights. Gentle, taunting laughter almost succeeded in
coaxing a smile from him. Almost.

“No,” he answered, the denial not coming
easily.

“Now who’s the coward?” Her chin lifted
in challenge. She squared her shoulders like a soldier, all the while fighting
a smile.

“You shouldn’t taunt me with how I feel
right now, Pen.” Like a string too tightly wound, that had been cranked and
cranked beyond capacity. The pressure was full to overflowing. All it would
take was the faintest crack for the pressure to burst. He’d explode.

A crash of water sounded as she dropped
down into the water then surged up to her full height. She looked like an
exotic enchantress with water cascading down her body in the moonlight. Already
her magic was weaving itself around his bones, beckoning him to do her will.

“Taunt you? Why, oh why, would I ever do
that? General.” She added the last part like she couldn’t help herself.

His muscles coiled like a loaded spring.
“What did I tell you about calling me that ridiculous name?” He recognized that
dangerous glint in her eye; it was the same look she wore before chaos ensued.

Ryon stepped into the water, moving to
stop the impending destruction.

That didn’t stop her. “It’s what I want
to call you, so I will. There’s no changing that. Why do you continue to fight
a war with me that you can’t possibly win?” she asked.

He closed in on her, mere feet
separating the distance between them. Warm supple female to hard aching
warrior.

She slipped the second strap off her
shoulder.

Bare skin, mounds of palpable flesh with
hardened tips bobbing gently from her chest. Her sleek ribcage flared out to
wide hips. Beckoning him like a magic spell. Exquisite. She bared her breasts
to him like an ancient offering. The mouthwatering sight didn’t stun him as he
might have expected, but empowered him instead.

Ryon charged forward, catching her
startled intake of breath a moment before he snatched her by the shoulders and
pulled her into his arms.

“Say my real name,” he demanded.

He couldn’t catch his breath; neither
could she. His control was a thin piece of thread tethered to an anvil, fragile
strands softly snapping as the weight proved too great to hold. She knew what
he wanted to hear, but refused to give it.

“General.” A breathless hitch hung in
her answer.

Bare breasts pressed against his crisp
shirt and he captured one with his rough palm, snatching it. It felt
incredible. Better than he could have imagined—soft, warm skin and a mound that
filled his hand. His fantasies couldn’t live up to the real thing, not even
close. He palmed her with growing intensity, molding her and learning her
shape, the texture of her skin, the firmness of her tit and nipple. His shaft
throbbed with undisguised longing.

Indecision skewed across her face: the
need to obey and disobey warring in her mind. He could see her thinking,
struggling to choose the right path.

Her breast heaved in his hand, yet she
kept herself tightly guarded against him. He could see it in her hesitant
scrutiny. He’d need a battering ram to strike down those walls—and he had only
a few days to do it. He had to make his mark now.

Ryon pinched her nipple between two
fingers, applying pressure until her eyes snapped back to his. Then, as he held
her attention, he gave her an order as he had to many a soldier.

“Say my name.”

Chapter 2

General Ryon Amadeus Ward was a hulking
beast of a man.

He befitted his stature as General of
the Tarlèan military to perfection.

He was a hero to all. Even to her.
Though she doubted she could ever admit as much to him.

Thanks to him, the Tarlèan people had
managed to stave off attacks from the Avagarians.

The Avagarians are their deadliest
enemies; an uncivilized tribe of horrifying beasts that lived on the
eastern-side of the country. They called it the Wastelands. Only one hundred
acres of forest separated the Tarlèan kingdom from the Avagarians’ Wastelands.
Living on infertile land at extreme temperatures left few resources for the
savages. They tried to survive by murdering and pillaging from Tarlèan
resources.

Many now regarded Ryon as a war hero.
Before Ryon was promoted to general, the raids on their kingdom had occurred
monthly with dire costs. The Avas had targeted the silver mine and attempted to
blow it up. Silver was their greatest weakness. When in their deadliest,
bestial form, silver acted like acid to their flesh. Silver was now the
Tarlèans most sought-after resource. It was used on all manner of weapons and
even embroidered into clothing as a sign of wealth.