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“Don’t mind Jerry,” Derick says, straightening. “He’s simple, and only a sound beating gets the point across.”

Jerry groans pitifully, rolling over and spitting blood to the straw-strewn barn floor.

The farmer and lads hand over the goods and retreat to the farmstead. I’ve little doubt the farmer will spend the night in vigil by the bolted door with a crude weapon in his hands. Thank the Goddess, the farmer had the sense to keep his wife and any daughters out of sight, for Jerry is always particularly belligerent after a beating. I expect to feel his fist frequently before we get to sleep.

We all find a place to sit. I’m the lowest here, so I’m closest to the open barn door. A bowl of stew is shoved into my hands, and I take it with a nod. We eat in silence. The tension is stifling. The beating on Jerry must have been fierce, for he doesn’t bother to lay into me.

The stew is rich and warming.

But my thoughts are cold and full of conflict. Earlier today, we watched from the cover of the trees as a party of fifty Wittner guards took the pathway leading north. While I cannot know their reasons for such travel at this late stage of the year, I can make an educated guess.

Orc, Blighten, green bastards . . . there is not much creativity involved in their naming.

It would not be the first time they’ve dug-in on the northern borders, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. If the King does not disperse them swiftly, the Imperium can look forward to a long winter of constant raiding.

But with their numbers halved, the Wittner estate will be vulnerable.

I wonder at the coincidence of us being here at such a time.

I wonder what possible threat a dozen Blighten scum might hold even with the Wittner numbers halved.

Tomorrow we will arrive at the castle itself . . . if that is Derick’s destination.

One way or another, I’ll wonder no more.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Priya

I WAKE UP tangled between two warm bodies. Brook lays upon his back. My cheek rests on his chest, and my arm is flung over his waist. As he breathes softly in and out, it tickles the hair on my forehead.

Caden’s warm body is squished up against me from behind. As per usual, his face is buried in the crook of my neck, lips close to the claiming mark. His hand rests against my hip.

Their combined scent fills my lungs and heart.

Opening my eyes a crack, I find the bedroom bathed in sunlight. Someone has stoked the fire, and more wood has been added, keeping the wintery chill from the air.

“I need to go,” I say, wriggling to get their attention when moving their limbs proves a challenge beyond my small strength.

They both tighten their grip momentarily. Caden nips at the claiming mark and grinds his cock against my ass, before they both shift to free me.

“Hurry up,” Brook says, landing a firm swat upon my ass as I climb over him to escape the bed. “It’s late for your maintenance spank.”

I yelp and glare at him before dashing off to complete my private business.

Surely after yesterday, I do not require a maintenance spank this morning? The more I consider this, the more determined I become until I am fully charged with outrage.

By the time I return to the bedroom, they are dressed, and I have built myself up to a temper. “I don’t believe I’m due any spanking today, given I received a week’s worth yesterday.” My tone is haughty, and I’m sure I look ridiculous as I stare down Brook with my ratty hair and well-ravished body covered in the evidence of our many couplings.

They both still in a way that brings a flutter low in my belly, eyeing me with barely suppressed mirth. Caden raises a brow. Brook turns to Caden for direction. “Did that sound like attitude?”

My confidence wanes. I can only wonder at my propensity for challenging them. I should know better by now.

“It did,” Caden says ominously, although there is still laughter in his eyes. “Use the paddle. After, she is not to be made to feel good.”

I gasp, but it is too late for Brook has collected the paddle from the nightstand. Using it, he points at the bed where I’m to bend over. “Can I take her mouth when I’m done?” he asks Caden. “I think she will be naughty about her discipline, and I’m already hard.”

“No,” Caden says. “That would be a poor discipline, for she enjoys it too much. I’ve caught her with her fingers in her pussy while I’ve been distracted enjoying her pretty mouth. Better not to take the risk. If she accepts her discipline like a good girl, I will consider whether she might be rewarded tonight.”

Brook and I groan as Caden turns and strides from the room. But there is no hope for it. Brook will not disobey Caden any more than he would disobey Hawthorn.

I’m put over the side of the bed and spanked with the paddle. After, he cuddles me on his lap, where he purrs, and, as per Caden’s instruction, nothing more.

Once Brook leaves, Shep is allowed into the bedroom chamber while I take a bath. He sits attentively at the side, watching me with unreserved envy. He has come to love doggy bath time. I swear he seeks out the pigpen with a gleam in his eye, knowing he will get a bath later.

Or it could be the attention. Shep loves attention.

The water is warm and soothing. The past day has been particularly testing, and I am both sleepy and sore. But my troubles are never far from the surface, and I know the Goddess has more tests for me.

My skin turns wrinkly long before I climb out and dress. I see Shep eyeing the bath like it