SCOTTISH ROMANCE: My Sinful Surrender to a Highlander Werewolf (Scottish Werewolf Pregnancy Romance) (Historical Medieval Shape Shifter Paranormal Science Fiction Short Stories) (47 page)

Chapter Five

             

It was the sunlight that awoke Freya the next morning. She opened her eyes slowly, afraid that last night had been no more than a dream but when she looked beside her she saw Lorne. Reaching her hand across, she brushed her fingers against his bare chest. He stirred but did not waken. Freya glanced down at the entirety of his naked body, her eyes resting on his thick member. He certainly looked nothing like Angus. Lorne had a tight and sculpted body and his rod was so thick and long compared to Angus’s. She licked her lips as she thought of last night.

Lorne stretched his arms upward and yawned as he opened his eyes. Taking a deep breath he looked over at Freya.

“We should dress and get moving.” He said flatly. Freya frowned as Lorne stood up and began fishing through his clothes. She watched him without moving. “You should dress.” He said glancing at her as he dressed himself. Freya shook her head. “You have to, we have to move, it’s already daylight.” Freya shook her head again and this time tears welled in her eyes.

“No.” Lorne picked up her night smock and threw it next to her.

“You have to. We have to hurry.” The tears spilled down her face as Freya begrudgingly stood and dressed herself. She couldn’t believe that she had allowed herself to fall for such an awful trick. She had allowed a barbarian to make love to her as only her husband should, and worse, he had convinced her that it would be okay.

Freya stood by the door of the small house with her arms crossed and her lips pouted. She was angry with herself, but most of all she was angry with Lorne. How could he have said such things only to still take her to be bid on by other men the next morning?

“Can you walk?” Lorne asked as he came to the door and stood beside her.

“I can walk fine.” Freya said coldly. Lorne opened the front door.

“Then let’s start moving.”

It wasn’t long before Freya was regretting volunteering to walk. Her journey yesterday may have been a bumpy one, but at least her feet weren’t killing her. She had only slipped on a pair of leather sandals before Lorne had taken her from her home and they barely protected her feet from the tough terrain.

“You have to keep up.” Lorne looked back at Freya as he marched ahead. Freya had no intention of picking up her speed. She had no intention of doing anything that would make Lorne’s life easier.

By midday Lorne had chastised Freya more times for being slow than she cared to recount. She was tired, hungry and most of all, angry. Lorne came to a stop on top of a large hill and waited for Freya to catch up.

“We will rest for a few minutes here, but we have to keep moving so we can’t stop long.” Lorne took out his flask and offered it to Freya. She took it and guzzled down as much as she could greedily.

“Why are you in such a hurry? Afraid that all the highest bidders will be gone?” Freya shoved the flask back at Lorne. He frowned.

“What?” He took a drink from the flask.

“You heard me.” Freya said coldly.

“I heard you, but I didn’t understand…you think that I am still taking you to be sold?” Freya rolled her eyes.

“I’m not stupid, Lorne. I know that you got what you wanted. I know that I’m a naïve woman who fell for your talk about freedom.” She stared at him accusingly. For a moment Lorne looked angry and then his face relaxed and he began to laugh. Still laughing, he walked over to Freya and wrapped his arms around her.

“Freya,” he stepped back, his hands on her shoulders. “I’m not taking you to be sold, I’m taking you to safety.” Freya frowned. “My clan, they moved overnight. We stopped because I was tired from carrying you but the place that we stopped was only an emergency home. It was there for the wounded, for those in need of shelter after the attack on your village. Because we stayed there we are far behind the rest of the clan and that means that we have no protection from the vengeance that will come. I don’t want you to suffer at the hands of your own people.” Freya still wasn’t sure that she believed him.

“My own people would not kill me.” She retorted.

“They already had.” Lorne said sadly, his hands slipping off Freya’s shoulders. He stared out from the top of the hill to the mountains ahead. Freya grabbed his arm.

“Just tell me one thing.” Lorne looked to her. “Tell me that it was real?” He smiled gently before sliding his hand behind her head and pulling her close. His lips touched hers softly, and as he pulled away he nodded.

“It doesn’t get any more real than that.” Freya looked out over the mountains ahead.

“Is that where we are going?” Lorne nodded his head.

“It’s a long trek but if we want to make it to safety we have to keep going for as long as we can.” Freya nodded and began to walk again.

“Then let’s go.”

Chapter Six

             

It was fourteen days and nights of daytime travel before Lorne and Freya arrived at Lorne’s village. They were welcomed with cheers and many smiling faces. Lorne relished in the attention of his people, but Freya was too distracted to celebrate. The journey had left her tired and she felt sick to her stomach.

“Lorne?” She tugged on his sleeve. He turned around from the crowd and looked at her, but as he did she crumpled to a heap on the ground. Sweeping her up in his arms Lorne took her to his home where he laid her on a mattress made of straw. When Freya finally came to she found Lorne standing over her wringing his hands.

“Stay still. Don’t move. I have sent for the doctor, but you must rest.” Freya smiled at him gently.

“I’m just tired, it has been a long journey.” Lorne looked towards the door as he anxiously awaited the doctor’s arrival.

“We will let the doctor be the judge of that.” Freya sighed and gently sat herself up in bed. As her fingers crunched into the straw mattress, she looked at Lorne with a smile.

“Do you remember the last time we slept on a straw mattress?” Lorne turned to her and smiled, he couldn’t help himself.

“Perhaps you are feeling a little better…but still, there will be no more of that until the doctor takes a look at you.” Freya sighed heavily.

“I am fine. I promise you I am fine, but if seeing the doctor is what it takes to get a taste of that kind of freedom again…then I’ll do it.” Just as she finished speaking, the doctor arrived at the open door. He was a shorter man than Lorne and he had a full grey beard and long grey hair that matched.

“Come in, doctor. Please, I need you to take a look at this young lady. We have, as you know, been traveling alone for a very long time and as soon as we arrived she fainted.” The doctor nodded and set a bag down beside the bed.

“It is very common for young women to faint.” The doctor said flatly as he sat on the side of the bed. “But let me take a look at you, young lady, and see just what caused this fainting spell.” Freya nodded as the doctor took her wrist in one hand and rested the fingers of the other hand on her pulse. “And Lorne, for the sake of modesty I must ask you to please wait outside.” Lorne looked at Freya worriedly. She nodded at him to let him know that she would be okay and he stepped outside, shutting the door behind him.

As Lorne stood outside his house he wondered what he was going to do if there truly was something wrong with Freya. Had he fallen in love with her, only to be punished by losing her? He wondered if perhaps he had been wrong about his God after all. He wondered if perhaps Freya had been right all along.

Time dragged on, and Lorne waited impatiently at the door of his own home. After what seemed like hours the doctor opened the door and stepped outside with his bag.

“Everything is fine. You can go in and see her now.” Lorne nodded, and in his hurry to go in to see Freya he forgot to thank the doctor.

“What did he say? Are you okay?” Lorne ran to her bedside. Freya patted the bed beside her.

“I think you should sit.” She said with a smile. Lorne did as he was told and reached for her hand. “We are going to have a baby.” Freya rested her free hand on her belly. Lorne’s eyes widened.

“I’m going to be a father?” Freya nodded. “Are you sure?” Freya nodded again.

“That’s what the doctor said!” Lorne looked at her belly and then back at her face with a smile.

“I’m going to be a father?!” Freya laughed and nodded again. Tears welled in Lorne’s eyes as he leaned forward and kissed Freya on the forehead. “I was so afraid. I thought that maybe you were sick, that God was punishing me for taking you.” Freya shook her head.

“There is nothing to be afraid of. Our God doesn’t punish us, he rewards us.  And this…” she pulled Lorne’s hand over to her belly, “is a pretty good reward.” She smiled. Lorne smiled too as he rubbed her belly gently. “Our own little highlander.”

THE END

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Fighter’s Dark Love

Charter One

“Naomi, I don’t know why you insist on trying to kill yourself every single night. It’s mot like anybody is going to give a damn if you live or die. You really need to be more careful and there’s no telling what kind of damage you can do to yourself in one of these fights. I’ve seen you go toe to toe with somebody that is twice your size and still be able to knock them down to the ground. What happens when you meet that one opponent that doesn’t fall, so easily? That’s the day when you find out that you’re not so invincible.” Maria was one of those friends that would tell you exactly what she felt without filtering her response.

“You really don’t have any right to speak down to me like this, Maria. We both know that after I lost my job that things didn’t go according to plan. I’ve looked everywhere for something that fits me, but so far I feel like somebody has been blacklisting me all over town. I’ve been doing these temporary jobs, hoping to make enough money, so that I can get my own place. It’s not easy when you have to eat at the same time. These fights are the only thing I have that even comes close to making me enough money to survive. If I get good enough, then they might give me more of the take.” What I didn’t tell her was that I was enjoying myself. It wasn’t even about the money. It was about the power that I had when I finally knocked them out.

I’d even taken a few guys out, which was all the rage with all the people that were in attendance. The backyard fights were not legal by any means and if caught, we could face years in jail. It was a good thing that they moved from one location to the next, never staying in one place too long. I honestly didn’t know that I was such a bad ass, although I’ve had a few bar brawls that had the other person going to the emergency room.

“I know that you can take care of yourself, Naomi. Sometimes I worry that you’re going to get in over your head. You don’t even have the necessary training to do this type of sport. It would be something else if you got somebody to show you how to do things the right way. I’m not going to state the obvious, but luck is one of the things that won’t last forever.” She always worried too much and I wouldn’t take it, except that she allowed me to stay on her couch once or twice a week.

The rest of the time, I was either at somebody else’s house or apartment or a last-ditch effort camping out at a nearby park. It was still early fall and not too cold to pitch a tent. I’ve always been the outdoorsy type and hunting and fishing was one of things that my father taught me before he died of cancer. I never did know my mother and having no siblings had made me a virtual loner at18. It was good that my father had taught me how to be self-sufficient. I was never one to get caught in the trap of credit cards or going into debt for something that I wanted, but didn’t need.

I stand here outside in Maria’s backyard working on a makeshift punching bag that is made of a tarp filled with sand and tied to a tree. I was hitting it with one knee about the next.

“If I could find something that would pay me what I’m worth, then I may consider stopping these fights. Until then, I have no choice, but to give it my all. This next fight is for $1000. If I’m able to last for at least 20 minutes, then I’ll have a nice pay day. I’ve done my research on Abigail. She comes from Brazil and knows all of these interesting moves. I’m just going to have to learn to stay out of her reach.” The one thing that I knew about going into these fights was that more information was the best information. She already had an amazing record of 10-1. There was no denying that this girl was dangerous. My record of five and zero was still quite impressive in its own right.

I had on black gloves that had the fingers cut out and chalk on them to give me a firm grip on anything that I grabbed onto. I never considered myself to be particularly physical, but desperate times call for desperate measures. That last fight was not one of my finest moments and it made me physically aware of my limitations. These fights were not essentially boxing matches, although that was all that I had to bring to the table.

My hair was this dark black with a blue tinge and I had it tied into a ponytail to allow me to move more freely and without the restriction of my hair getting in my eyes. I had starting to utilize elbow shots and a couple of well placed knees, but they were not as high as I would’ve liked. It was a learning experience and one that I took very seriously.

The sun had gone down and I could feel the slight chill in the air and looked around to see that the trees had changed color significantly. If I had the time, I would enjoy it more, but for most part I was always training.

“Travis has expressed an interest to call the authorities and put a stop to these illegal fights. Don’t worry, I talked him out of it and told him that I would never forgive him if he did something like that. I think he’s just worried that you’re going to get hurt very badly. I don’t want to see that happen, but I know that you have a very strong mind. Just don’t get complacent and feel that you can take on anything at any time. That’s when mistakes are made. I know that I don’t know much about this sport, but I’ve been learning for your sake. It’s the reason why I’m in your corner most nights, unless of course I am working the graveyard shift at the hospital.” Having a nurse on call during my escapades behind the bars was a good thing. It allowed me to take some risks and have her there to tap me up if necessary.

“Believe me; I know how lucky I am to have you, as a friend, Maria.” She had come from Jamaica and she had the dreadlocks to prove it. She stood about 3 inches taller than me, but it was my slight statue that gave me the edge over the competition. They never knew what was coming and would always underestimate me. That was their final undoing and sometimes I would catch them off guard with how ferocious I could be.

“I hope so, Naomi. I had to mend a couple of bones without the hospital being aware of it. I don’t like stealing medications, but you made it necessary. It’s just lucky that I got enough that it will probably do us for quite some time. It was taken from a shipment that was being sent to another hospital and I was the one that was in charge of making sure the inventory was correct. It didn’t take much to make a few necessary adjustments.”

The one thing that I did learn about this MMA style was that it was always a possibility that some promoter from the real legalized version of MAA would be there to scout out talent. I was hoping beyond hope that somebody would see something in me and decide to take a chance. I was what you would be considered bank. I was the essential underdog that would come back at the last second to rally to victory.

I had on a black pair of shorts, my feet bare and my knees now showing the effect of using them against this bag. It felt like I was hitting cement. What I wanted most of all was to learn some takedowns and moves that would make my opponents submit. It would’ve made it a lot easier and to continue to pummel my victim, until they were done.

“To tell you the truth, Naomi, I really do enjoy seeing you in action. I shouldn’t admit that, because it’s barbaric. It’s just that I find it kind of liberating to see a woman taking a stand like this. The first time that I saw you knock out a man had me jumping up and down. I get a thrill out of watching, but I wonder if I should translate that into getting into the ring myself.” I turned to her abruptly and grabbed her by her green scrubs.

“I don’t want you to have anything to do with this. It’s not like you have to and you have a good job and a good husband with a good paying job. There’s no reason for you to risk your health and well being over something that you consider to be barbaric. I felt my C cup breasts pressing up against her. It wasn’t easy for a black woman to get a break and she had done the impossible by going to college and becoming something that her parents could be proud of. She was one of their main nurses that they would call at a moment’s notice. They wouldn’t have done that, unless of course they respected the woman behind the green scrubs.

“I said that I was curious, I didn’t say that I was foolish enough to get my head knocked off. It’s bad enough that I see some of these fight victims coming into the ER after hours. Unfortunately for them, I had no choice, but to call the authorities. This whole underground fight circuit is getting out of hand. I heard the police talk about it in hushed tones. They even have a task force set up to deal with this. They want to put an end to it and I think that only comes from the untimely death of Jacob Robards. He was only 16 and his nose was crushed and he could barely breathe when he came into the emergency room. He died two days later due to complications.”

Chapter two

“Maria, we all know that it takes only one to spoil the broth. I had no idea why I said something like that. It stuck with me when my father said it when I was growing up. He was always coming up with these old sayings that would’ve been better off in the past.

I grimaced slightly, seeing the bruises on my knees, but knowing that it was necessary to toughen the skin. My next fight was in 20 minutes and I had the necessary instructions to where it was taken place. They always sent a text message to the fighters to inform them of where the venue was going to be. Most often than not, it was in some dilapidated old building that was about to be torn down or abandoned for economical reasons. There were times that those that wanted to cash in on this growing trend would allow us to use their basement.

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