The Warlord Claims His Bride Read Free Page A

we will go to the lord’s manor, so put on yer prettiest dress, and smile, darlin’. Bronson does no’ want a wealthy brought up wife. He wants a woman that is a peasant and has had tae work for the life she has.” And then her father left, and Genevieve knew that was it. Her life and future could shift drastically with one word from Bronson, and that one word was “Mine”.
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    It had been a fortnight since Bronson had announced to the small village of Landonston that he would be searching for a bride to help him to carry on the Lyon namesake. There were villages around Landonston: Harrowsworth, Kellerstell, Finnertystall, and Bluendot. All five villages had once been Lyon territory until a group of savages had come and taken that away from his family. It was a land that had once been filled with livestock, hardworking men wanting to take care of their wives and children, farming, and with happy families that were loyal to the Lyons. But after his father had been killed on the battlefield, the Lyon territory had been given to different men by Dawson McCarrick. Even thinking of the name of the man that murdered his father had a red rage covering his entire body. Over the many, many years of the land not being claimed by Clan Lyon everything had declined until it was desolate villages that were scrounging to survive.
    No longer would that be the case. Now that Bronson had secured all five territories, it would stay Clan Lyon land until time’s end.
    He sat behind the scarred, but well used, table in the dining hall, and watched as the women from the villages were ushered in. He had four of his highest warriors sitting beside him, and although tonight was about him finding a bride, that wasn’t to say the other men were not also ready for more than just bloodshed and war, and occasionally rutting between a wench’s thighs. The women continued to come forth. Although there were only so many women in the five villages, and they certainly were not from high standings, Bronson had purposefully decreed it so. He wanted a woman who knew the meaning of hard work, and could give as well as receive. If he were to wed a woman of social standing such as his own, one who had never tended to an animal or a field, or had never known what it was like to lose something important, how could he expect to have children with her that were strong and had good values? No, he wanted a peasant wife, one that could give as well as could receive. But even though his desires for a wife had been known, there had still been offers by other lords to give their daughters to Bronson.
    When the last woman was ushered in with their escorts stationed behind them, Bronson stood from his seat and moved down the platform to stand before them. The scent of where they came from still lingered around them even though they were freshly cleaned and clothed. He liked that, though. Bronson wasn’t a man that wanted flowery and sweet smelling aromas to hide who they really were. He had death and blood, dirt and anger that constantly surrounded him. It was engrained in his skin, his heart and soul. After they were wed he would have her scented for his pleasure, but only for that first time, only to arouse every sense that they had. When he had his bride in his bed and displayed for his pleasure, he would run his lips and hands over every inch of her body. His cock became hard at those thoughts.
    He started at one end and looked at each woman. The majority of them were of the same slender build. Bronson had always liked the thicker female form. The woman he chose this day would not only be his to look after, but he would make sure her family was also taken care of. If he was a cruel leader he wouldn’t have cared about the people that resided under his territory, but Bronson was far from cruel when it came to others he considered under his protection. He glanced at each woman thoroughly. Tall, short, hair the color of honey, and some a deep muddy color like the