Jessica Sims - Wanted - Wild Thing

“Why, I could tell because you are mine.”

I stilled. “Yours?”

“Yes. I was there at your birth. I saw you bred, saw you born, and brought you here so you could grow up.”

Saw me . . . bred. My jaw dropped a little. “Bred?”

“Yes. Your father was put out to stud, and we brought in your mother—a sweet little filly if ever there was one—and voila, magic happened. You were created.”

A sweet little filly, huh? That was creepy. Maybe it was a fae thing. “So where are my parents now?”

“They’re not parents, my darling changeling. Parents imply child rearing. They were simply the vessels in which you were created.” He looked at me fondly. “They bred an excellent specimen, if I’m any judge. And I am.”

Suddenly feeling cold, I pulled my baby pink cardigan closer. “You’re talking about me like I’m some sort of prize poodle.”

Finian’s smile grew broader. “That’s exactly what you are, my dear. Think of yourself as a prize poodle for the Otherworld.”

“Otherworld?” I echoed.

“The fae realm.”

I shook my head, trying to absorb all of this. “I don’t understand. If I’m fae, why bring me here?”

“You’re not fae.” He looked offended at the thought. “You’re a changeling. And your kind has a very high mortality rate in the fae realm, I’m afraid. Lots of creatures prey on your kind. You’re very showy and beautiful in your natural form, but with very few defenses. Hence, you’re here for your protection.” Finian gestured at me munificently. “You’re welcome.”

I was still staring at him, trying to absorb all of this. I was this man’s . . . poodle? I was born in the fae realm? My parents were . . . stud dogs? Or horses? Of a sort? “I still don’t understand.”

“Well, your kind wasn’t bred for its intelligence.” Finian gave me a dismissive look. “Exactly what part is so hard?”

I spread my hands, trying to think of where to start. I glanced around nervously to make sure no one was listening in to our conversation. Then, I leaned in and spoke. “I’m not even sure that I am your changeling. My other form isn’t beautiful at all. Quite the opposite.”

He tilted his head. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, my pet. And my changeling has a mark on her upper thigh in the shape of a sun with a Celtic eternity knot in the center.”

I stilled, my eyes going wide. I had that mark on the inside of my thigh. No one had ever been able to give me a straight answer as to why a baby girl had been branded right after birth, and my adoptive parents had given me the option to have it removed when I hit adulthood. I’d elected to keep it because I liked its uniqueness.

I’d never told anyone about it, either.

“Shall I get you to show me?” Finian asked. “My friend here can hold you down while I check to ensure that you’re the one I seek.”

I gave a wide-eyed look at the giant at his side. “No, I’m good, thanks. I know the mark.”

“I thought so. Your twenty-fifth birthday is in a month, correct?”

“If you know about the birthmark, you should know when my birthday is,” I told him, not wanting to volunteer any more details. Part of me wanted to run away from this bizarre conversation, but I needed information. This man seemed to have lots of it.

“Don’t be prickly, my pet. It’s not becoming.”

I gritted my teeth behind my smile. I really, really wasn’t a fan of the way he kept calling me “my pet” after referring to me as a poodle. “I don’t understand why you’re here, after so long.”

“It’s very simple. Changelings take time to ripen,” Finian said, steepling his fingers. “At twenty-five, you’ll be ideal for breeding, which means it’s safe to take you back to the fae realm. I have the perfect stud lined up.”

My eyes widened with horror. “You’re going to breed me?”

“Of course, precious.” He gave me a pleasant look. “Changelings go for quite a sum on the Goblin Market these days, and my family’s had a bit of financial difficulty in the past millennia. Your offspring will take care of that problem.”

I swallowed, feeling sick. This . . . wasn’t happening. It wasn’t . This guy couldn’t just own me and treat me like a prize dog. There had to be a way out of this.

“What if I say no? What if I don’t want to go with you?”

“Don’t make this difficult,” Finian told me in a condescending voice. “Hugh here has plenty of friends that are ready to ensure that you come with me. I’d hate to have to collar you.”

Hugh’s expression didn’t change. I shuddered.

“Besides,” Finian said in a cheerful voice, “once you hit your twenty-fifth birthday unbesmirched, it’s going to become impossible for you to hold your beast side at bay. Your mating frenzy is going to take over, and then you’ll be begging me to take you away.”

My hand went to my throat. It sounded horrifying. “What if I pay you? Can I pay you for my freedom?”

He gave me a pitying look. “Oh, pet. Fae don’t deal in human currency. Trust me when I say that what we want, you can’t afford. I’m afraid that’s just the way it is. And even if you could buy your freedom, it wouldn’t help you contain your beast. Only breeding you will fix that.”

I felt like vomiting. “But . . . but I have a month. I’m not twenty-five yet.”

“Yes. This is a tricky period, which is why I’m here today. Since you’re coming up on your fertile time, you’re going to start throwing out pheromones everywhere. It’s going to be impossible for you to hide your identity.”

“Like when the shifters go into heat?” God, this just got worse and worse.

“No. Right now you stink of human.” He gave me a polite smile and lifted a tiny flower from his lapel, pressing it under his nose as if to ward off my stench. “But that smell will change rapidly over the next few weeks, and it’ll be obvious to any fae what you are. You’re going to need protection so someone doesn’t steal you out from under my nose.” He reached over and patted his companion’s burly arm. “Which is why Hugh is here.”

Aghast, I looked over at Hugh and stared up fully into his face for the first time.

He was one scary fucker.

Hard all over, he reminded me of Sara’s mate in his size and strength. But where Ramsey had handsome features and kind eyes when he looked at Sara, this man had not an ounce of softness in him. He had a thick body, with muscle bulging up around his neck like a bodybuilder’s. His longish hair had messy braids at the crown to keep it out of his face, and the reddish-brown color had a rippling pattern, a bit like tiger stripes. He had long sideburns that ended in thick tufts at the base of his jaw. He wore a plain brown tunic belted at his waist, and his arms were as big as my thighs, corded with muscle and veins. His forearms were lightly dusted with reddish hair, which also seemed striped. He was like a cross between Thundercats and Braveheart.

The worst thing about him was his eyes. Not because they had slitted pupils like a cat—that was actually kind of neat. It was the emotion in them that bothered me, or rather, the lack of. They were cold and empty as he gazed at me. There wasn’t an ounce of softness there.

I didn’t like the look of him at all. “Nice to meet you, Hugh,” I said nervously. “But I’m sure protection isn’t necessary.”

After all, who was going to protect me from Hugh ?

Finian smiled. “It’s not your decision, my pet. It’s mine, and I intend to keep an eye on my investment. Hugh is the best mercenary magic can buy, which is why he’s going to be your shadow until delivery day.”

My gaze flicked from Finian back to Hugh. “Oh, but I don’t need a shadow. I’ll just be very careful.”