Free Devon Morgan [Seven Brothers for McBride 5] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) by Anitra Lynn McLeod

can’t be close to you anymore if I’m going to leave.”
    “I’m not going to let you go.”
    Caleb made a point of raking his gaze up and down McBride’s supine body. “You can’t stop me.”
    “Physically? No. But I don’t think you really can go.” There was a link between them. It was light and tentative, but it was still there. “When you drank from me, you sealed your fate.”
    “It wasn’t enough to form a bloodbond.” But Caleb didn’t sound as sure as he was trying to project.
    “It was. And you know it.” McBride traced his fingers over the raised pattern on the bedspread. Caleb’s dangerous green gaze tracked the movement, and his body responded as if McBride were touching him directly. “You and I belong together.”
    “No.”
    “Yes.”
    “I’m not arguing this with you.”
    “Then go.” McBride kept right on fondling the bedding, loving the way Caleb would yank his gaze away only to slowly bring it back.
    “In town, slammers turned on their gentrymen.”
    “Did they?” McBride intensified his strokes, watching as Caleb stiffened his spine.
    “They threw them in the stocks and took turns fucking them.”
    “Is that what you’re going to do to me?”
    Caleb’s guilty gaze jumped to McBride’s face. He looked mortified by the very idea, but then his gaze narrowed and he put on his indifferent mask. “I wouldn’t mind tossing you in the stocks, but there wouldn’t be any turns. I’d keep you all to myself.”
    “Greedy, are you?”
    “Where you’re concerned, very.”
    “You see?” McBride grinned because he’d managed to get Caleb to make his point. “You really won’t be able to walk away, Caleb. You might go, and you might do well for yourself out there in the changed world, but you will never, ever, be completely free of me.”

Chapter 8
     
    “I know it seems a bit overwhelming, but I think it’s the best way to get started.” Devon held up the leather cutter again. He was sitting at his kitchen table across from Karsten with the bright afternoon sunlight streaming in through the window. It would be a beautiful day if not for all the tragedy. “I swear, I won’t try anything.”
    Karsten nodded and then winced, lifting his hand to his throat.
    “I know what it means for a thrall to go without a collar, but we can’t start healing you until we get yours off.” The ride back to his home had been uneventful and silent after Karsten wondered if their farm was as lawless as the town of Woven Spire. Neither Devon nor Caleb had offered out an answer when their master was down and Caleb was giving orders at his master’s mate’s request. Devon didn’t want Karsten to worry about a situation that was perfectly fine. Caleb was running things temporarily. Soon, McBride would be back on his feet, and he would take the reins of the farm with his usual firm hand and open mind.
    “I don’t want it off.” Karsten reached up and probably would have held on to the battered piece of pink leather, but he couldn’t without hurting himself.
    “I know. But your neck…” Devon trailed off because he wasn’t sure how to tell Karsten his neck looked like scar-riddled raw meat. “I promise to get you another one.”
    Karsten lowered his head and frowned. “Right. Because now you own me.”
    “No. I don’t.” Devon wanted to reach out and put his hand reassuringly on Karsten’s shoulder, but he feared any touch would be taken the wrong way. Given what he’d been through, Karsten was terribly fragile right now. Devon swore he wouldn’t do anything to make his situation worse.
    Up came Karsten’s head. “But I gave myself to you.”
    “You did that because you were scared out of your mind at the prospect of being used by a farm full of randy slammers.” Devon had no illusions about Karsten’s offer. “You have an amazingly strong sense of self-preservation.”
    “If I’m so strong, how did I end up bound to the building in the first place?” Karsten slumped