Page 75 of A Tale of Two Dukes

Grunts fill the room, distorted and far away, but I am still vaguely aware. My body jostles as he grinds into me, desperately seeking his pleasure. I should be grateful that he’s not shoving his cock into me, ripping me open for his own satisfaction.

And yet, it’s what’s awaiting me. I remember his threat all too clear. Once we’re wed, he will no longer be satisfied with his hand and my body for inspiration.

Deep in the recesses of my mind, I’m barely aware of his lips as they smear over the mounds of my breasts. I only vaguely sense his tongue as it snakes out. The moment his scalding seed splashes against my abdomen, I’m nearly so distant that I almost don’t even feel it.

However, when his teeth embed into my skin, delivering me a mating bite, everything narrows into a hyperfocus. Where William’s bond is strong cords tethering us together, Mr. Beaumont’s mark is oily, filmy, coating my mind and insides in fetid, moldering waste.

Why? The question burns through my mind without even thinking.

Because, Mr. Beaumont replies, his voice harsh and raspy, Birchleigh took everything from me. Now I plan to take everything from him.

CHAPTER 32

William

I yank on the reins, pulling my horse to a stop. With a loud neigh, he rears back, nearly unseating me as his hooves paw the air. Gripping tight, I hold on, soothing him with soft words and pats. Eventually, he calms down, trotting in place as I wait for Whiteport to slide up next to me.

“The bastard claimed her,” I roar, spooking both horses.

Whiteport pales as he slides his hand down the side of his horse’s neck. “He can do that? Two bonds?”

“It doesn’t matter if he can or not. He did. I’ve heard tales of kings bonding with multiple omegas, so it can’t be unheard of for two Alphas to claim one omega.” The very words pain me as they spill from my lips. “It’s certainly not something that’s normal by any means. Damnation,” I swear again, my heart pounding so hard it’s about to burst.

He mulls over my words as if my pain means nothing to him. But then, why would it? It’s not his mate who is now torn between two men. Eventually, he squints over at me. “It certainly would explain some of the pairings we’ve seen at The Rose and Thorne. I’ve always wondered at the trio who play so seamlessly. They seem better for it. Not that this scenario is beneficial to her, mind you. Just giving you an example to ease your mind. Is she more or less unharmed?”

“She’s… existing. Though I cannot hear him, I feel his presence. It’s disquieting, uneasy even, as if everything is too much, too crowded.” I glance up at the darkened sky, narrowing my eyes at the moon. “It’s now a race to see who can get to Gretna Green first. They’re leaving post haste. Please, Lewis,” I manage to croak, using his Christian name in my desperation. “I have to get to her first. I have to be the one to marry her.”

If he’s upset by me calling him by his given name, he doesn’t show it. It’s a complete breach of protocol, but these are extraordinary circumstances. Nodding, he urges his stallion into a gallop as I follow behind. Leaning forward, I rub my horse, grateful my friend can carry me so fast.

“All the apples and sugar cubes you desire, my friend,” I whisper into his ear. “Just please get me there. You will have your choice of mare, rest, and repose. Just get me to my mate.” As if he can understand me, he quickens his pace, his muscles straining, gleaming in the moonlight.

Sweat coats his body as foam froths at his mouth, but ever the faithful companion, he presses on. The gratitude is short-lived, however, as my mind turns back to Catherine. My poor, sweet omega.

Our racing across the countryside, running our horses into the ground, will have to be enough. At this point, I have no choice. I will get to my mate before she’s saddled with this odious monster. The very fact that he blames me when it was he and his brother’s actions is laughable.

Soon, however, it won’t matter. His blood will drip down my rapier. A pistol is too good a death for someone like him. I want the pleasure of running him through. After I dispatch of him, I’ll pick up the broken pieces of her shattered bond. I can only hope and pray that our existing tether will be enough. If not, if she dies, I will certainly follow soon after.

* * *

The sun beats down on us as we trod along. Our horses falter, needing rest. Next to me, Whiteport slumps, exhaustion beating at us both. At this rate, we will not be in any shape to meet Hugh at Gretna Green. Hell, we’d be lucky if our horses make it.

Love, are you okay? The bond has been silent as of late, and I can only hope she sleeps and it’s not something far worse. Anxiety gnaws at me as I await her reply.

Is it safe to talk?

I’m unsure, but I must know if you’re unharmed.

Besides the pain of the bite, I seem to be uninjured. I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry.

Anger beats at me. Not at my mate, but at the monster holding her tether. None of this is your fault. Trust me, he will rue the day you felt even a speck of pain at his hand.

Silence greets me for a moment. I’m not sure if he’s listening in, but we’re at least a day’s ride from Gretna Green. At least I think so. He could be throwing you off his trail by feeding me false information.

If she thinks a day, then we probably have half of that. Luckily, the inn nearby isn’t that much further. We can rest for a few hours then make a mad dash to the end. Her salvation is near.

Purr rumbling in my chest, I do my best to soothe and comfort my mate, but all the while, I’m very much aware of Hugh occupying her thoughts. I can’t hear them, exactly. It’s more like a shadow, a sensation in her mind. What I can easily discern is how hell-bent he seems on stripping away any modicum of happiness I can bestow on her.

For every inch I gain in her mind, he inflicts pain, negating everything I’m doing. I long to rip his throat out, to tear him limb from limb. But these thoughts won’t help her.