Tiger's Little Waif (Bratburg Daddies

Book 5) Cooper Mckenzie

Visit to download the full and correct content document:
https://ebookmass.com/product/tigers-little-waif-bratburg-daddies-book-5-cooper-mck
enzie/
More products digital (pdf, epub, mobi) instant
download maybe you interests ...

Pilgrim (Book 5) Harmon Cooper

https://ebookmass.com/product/pilgrim-book-5-harmon-cooper/

Daddy's Little Foreigner (Missouri Daddies Book 3)

Everly Raine

https://ebookmass.com/product/daddys-little-foreigner-missouri-
daddies-book-3-everly-raine/

Possessive Priest (Conklin County Daddies Book 4) Lena

Little

https://ebookmass.com/product/possessive-priest-conklin-county-
daddies-book-4-lena-little/

Dancing With Redemption (Barre To Bar Book 5) Summer

Cooper

https://ebookmass.com/product/dancing-with-redemption-barre-to-
bar-book-5-summer-cooper/
One Little Temptation (Lost and Found Book 5) Elizabeth
Lennox

https://ebookmass.com/product/one-little-temptation-lost-and-
found-book-5-elizabeth-lennox/

Owning Aidan: An MM Age Play Romance (Hero Daddies Book

5) Zack Wish

https://ebookmass.com/product/owning-aidan-an-mm-age-play-
romance-hero-daddies-book-5-zack-wish/

A Little Valentine: An MM Age Play Romance (Little Club

New York City Book 5) Zack Wish

https://ebookmass.com/product/a-little-valentine-an-mm-age-play-
romance-little-club-new-york-city-book-5-zack-wish/

Daddy Rescue At Little Rapids: An MM Age Play Romance

(Gruff Guardian Daddies Book 1) Zack Wish

https://ebookmass.com/product/daddy-rescue-at-little-rapids-an-
mm-age-play-romance-gruff-guardian-daddies-book-1-zack-wish/

Daddy Danger At Little Rapids: An MM Age Play Romance

(Gruff Guardian Daddies Book 2) Zack Wish

https://ebookmass.com/product/daddy-danger-at-little-rapids-an-
mm-age-play-romance-gruff-guardian-daddies-book-2-zack-wish/
TIGER’S LITTLE WAIF
Bratburg Daddies, Book 5

COOPER MCKENZIE
 CONTENTS

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18

About the Author

Also by Cooper McKenzie
GTB PUBLISHING
@2024 by Cooper McKenzie and GTB Publishing LLC
All rights reserved

No parts of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information
storage and retrieval system without express written permission by the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Published by GTB Publishing

Editing by Robin Smith
Cover art by Allycat’s Creations
Don’t miss a release! Sign up for our newsletter HERE!
 CHAPTER ONE

“Y ou can do this,” Shaw Tucker whispered to herself as she stared at the impressive double doors made of elaborately
carved wood. “You have to do this, or you’ll be dead before the weekend.”
Her Little side wanted to run away. Her Big side also wanted to run. The only problem was she had nowhere to run
to. Dan’s vow from the night before, to find her and kill her, still rang in her memory. Even as the police dragged him away
from her crumpled and battered body, he continued to scream death threats at her. It had taken everything in her to talk the
paramedics out of taking her to the hospital and allow her to just go home.
The only solution she could come up with was to leave town. But until her first alimony check arrived on the first of the
month, she had no money to relocate. She needed help. She only hoped the people behind these doors would agree to shelter
her far away from the city and her abusive ex-husband.
“Open the door, walk in and ask. Until you do, all you have is a no,” she whispered.
Taking a deep breath, which caused nearly every part of her body to protest, Shaw opened the door just wide enough to slip
through. After pulling the door closed, she limped to the last row of benches and held her breath as she sat down. A hearing
was already in process, so she would wait until they took a break before approaching the Council and pleading her case.
As the morning progressed, she watched young women enter the wood-paneled room and stand before the five-member
Council. Some cried and some raged, while others remained silent as the authority figure standing beside them explained what
societal transgression brought them before the Council.
Out of the ten women escorted into the room, only four were offered a chance to attend the program at Bratburg Institute.
The rest were either sent across town to the courthouse to stand trial for their crimes or transferred to centers for drug or
alcohol rehabilitation. Not a single one of the women was released to return to the lives they’d led before appearing before the
Council.
After the last woman had been escorted from the room, the man in the center of the panel stood. He exchanged a look with
the tall man in the front row who had consulted with him several times during the day. Together, the two men approached her.
“We don’t usually allow an audience for these proceedings. Is there something we can do for you?” the Council member
asked as he stopped in the aisle, several feet away.
The other man stood about the same distance away on her left.
Dropping her head, Shaw closed her eyes and whispered, “Yes, please. I’d like to be sent to Bratburg.”
“Why?”
 Shaw raised her head to see if the man was seriously asking this question. “Why, what?”
“Why do you voluntarily want to go to Bratburg?”
The simple answer Shaw had been rehearsing all day evaporated from her brain.
She swallowed hard and took a slow, deep breath. “Because if I don’t get out of the city before my ex-husband gets out of
jail tomorrow, he’s going to kill me. I don’t have any money, or friends or family to ask for help. Tomorrow, I’ll have to move
out of the room I’m staying in because I can’t afford another night.”
A deep growl drew her gaze to the man on her left. His expression of anger sent a shiver of fear through her, but at the same
time gave her hope that these men would help her. When he caught her staring, the man inhaled sharply, and his expression
smoothed.
“Why do you think he’s going to kill you?” he asked as he leaned forward to rest one forearm on the back of the bench in
front of her.
Without a word, Shaw closed her eyes and used both hands to lift the oversized t-shirt she wore, exposing her body from
the bottom of her bra to the top of her jeans. Both men inhaled sharply, and the man on her right muttered a series of curses at
the sight of the bruises that mottled her ribs and upper belly.
“How old are you, Little one?” the man to her left asked, his voice surprisingly gentle for such a large man.
“I’ll be twenty-nine in three weeks.”
“I’m afraid you’re too old to be sent to Bratburg,” the Council member said. “I’m sorry.”
His words shattered the fragile bit of hope she had carried into the room with her. She blinked to hold back tears as she
pushed to her feet with only a slight moan of pain. “Oh, okay. Sorry for bothering you.”
She tried to come up with her next move, but nothing came to mind. She had no backup plan. There was nothing else she
could do except try to stay hidden so Dan could not find her as she waited for her check. The court had decided to garnish
Dan’s wages and send her alimony directly to her rather than trust Dan to pay her, probably because he’d vowed to put her in
the ground before he paid her a nickel.
The police officer who had taken her statement the night before had promised he would make sure that Dan stayed locked
up for forty-eight hours to give her time to leave town. She now had less than thirty-four hours left before he would be free
again. With only twenty-seven dollars in her wallet and no car, she would not get far, but maybe she could get to the next town
before he hit the streets.
She took a long, slow breath and turned toward the door. The first tears burned their way down her cheeks as she limped
into the hall.
“Miss? Hang on a minute.”
Shaw stopped and slowly turned around. The second man, the one who’d been sitting in the front row of the gallery, was
striding toward her, looking like a hero from the romance novels she loved to read.
He did not speak until he stopped a good six feet away from where she stood. It was as if he knew she would back up if he
got any closer.
“Can you cook?”
She blinked and then frowned at the question. “Can I cook? Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I can.”
“Professionally, or just for your family?”
Shaw had to smile as she considered the question. “I’ve been the assistant to the head pastry chef at Kate’s Bakery over on
Third Street for the last three years. Well, that is until my ex got me fired last week. Before that, I worked at the Shelby Hotel. I
started washing dishes when I was sixteen and worked my way up until the pastry chef took me on and trained me. Would you
like to see my resume?”
“No, that’s not necessary. I’m Lonergan Mireles, the director of Bratburg Institute. While it is true that you are too old to
come to Bratburg as a trainee, I would like to offer you a job. Though he refuses to admit it, our chef needs help. If you accept
this position, you’ll be out of the city this afternoon and under our protection. We will provide room and board along with your
paycheck for as long as you wish to work for the institute.”
Shaw began nodding before he finished making the offer. “I’ll take it.”

MARSHALL RAMSEY WALKED through the vegetable garden with a half-full wicker basket hanging from one arm. He smiled
serenely as he plucked some more bright red grape tomatoes and carefully placed them in the basket. As he did, he planned the
layout of fresh veggie plates that would be part of the evening meal.
Littles were more likely to eat their vegetables if they were raw finger foods rather than cooked, preferably with ranch
dressing available to dip them in. He would turn today’s harvest into funny faces on plates for the new batch of trainees
arriving this afternoon.
 Though he did not have a Little girl of his own, he, like all the staff at Bratburg, was a Daddy Dom through and through.
The Littles who were mated to his coworkers also gave him extensive feedback as to how they preferred their healthy foods
served, whether he asked for it or not.
Finished with the afternoon’s harvest, Marshall let himself out of the fenced-in garden, just as the institute’s helicopter flew
overhead. The next class of trainees had arrived.
As he ambled toward the dining hall, he wondered if another shifter would find his mate out of this batch of young women.
It seemed to be happening with more and more frequency, though he doubted he would ever meet the woman meant for him. He
had no time to take care of a mate, Little or otherwise, even if his heart, cock, and tiger side yearned for one. Lately, whenever
he was not in the kitchen, he was in the gym or the gardens, working to keep his tiger side at peace and under control.
Twenty minutes later, as he finished laying out the vegetables into funny faces on a dozen plates, Lonergan pushed into the
kitchen through the closed double doors that led to the dining room.
“Hey, boss,” he greeted before turning his attention back to the tray of vegetable plates.
He finished the plates by setting small cups for dressing in the center of each plate as the nose. The girls would choose
their own dipping sauce, though he already knew most would choose ranch dressing.
“Can we talk?” Lonergan asked, sounding serious.
“Yeah, just a second.”
Marshall carried the trays to the refrigerator and slid it onto one of the lower shelves where one of the dinner helpers could
grab it quickly. He then went to the sink and washed his hands. Using the bottom of his apron to dry them, he turned to face the
institute’s director.
“What’s up?” he asked, leaning against the counter of his favorite workspace. He only had a few minutes before he would
need to start cooking the rest of the evening’s meal.
“While I was in the capital today, I hired you an assistant.”
Since he had expected the director to tell him one of the new trainees had food allergies, Lonergan’s announcement was
most unexpected.
“You did what?”
“I hired you an assistant.”
Marshall closed his eyes and counted to ten. When that didn’t work, he continued to twenty. And then thirty. Nope. Counting
was not doing a thing to cool his anger at Lonergan’s audacity.
Taking a deep breath, he turned to grip the counter so he would not leap across the kitchen and beat Lonergan to a bloody
pulp. Not that the dragon shifter would let him, but Marshall might get in a few punches before being smacked to the floor.
Another deep breath and he was able to growl, “Why?”
“Because you need help, and Shaw needed to leave the city. While she’s too old for the retraining program, she’s a
professional baker and might be able to help.”
Lonergan sounded so sure that Marshall was momentarily intrigued. “How do you know that?”
“She said she’s been working in professional kitchens since she was sixteen. Most recently, she was the assistant to the
head pastry chef at a very popular bakery in the capital.”
A pastry chef. Hmmm, letting her take over the sweet side of the menus would make the Littles happy, especially if she
made decent cookies and breakfast pastries.
Looking at the director, Marshall sighed. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”
Lonergan smiled as he shook his head. “Afraid not. Who knows, you might like not having to work sixteen hours a day
seven days a week.”
“Where is she?”
“In the dining room. Come on, I’ll introduce you,” Lonergan headed back the way he had come just moments before. During
mealtimes, the double doors stood open, but in between, he preferred to keep them closed.
Stepping into the dining room, which made up the rest of the building, Marshall took a deep breath and was stunned when
his tiger stood up and roared in recognition. Scanning the room, he found it empty except for a woman slumped at a table just a
few yards away, her expression both scared and resigned, as if waiting for bad news.
Taking another breath, he frowned. Her glorious cinnamon and orange scent was tainted by the sourness of pain. When
Lonergan stepped in front of him, blocking his view, Marshall shoved the man out of his way as he roared, “Mine!”
 CHAPTER TWO

haw prepared herself for Lonergan to return and tell her there was no job and she would have to leave Bratburg. No chef

S she’d ever known would ever allow their boss to hire help without their input.
She jumped when one of the double doors swung open and the director entered the dining area. A second man
followed two steps later, no doubt the Institute’s chef. She had just begun to relax from her startle when he stopped, took
a deep breath, and rushed toward her, roaring, “Mine!”
She had no time to react before he was right there, scooping her out of her chair and into a fierce embrace, which made
every point of pain in her body scream out in protest. Shaw screamed in agony. Her body had stiffened up during the flight to
Bratburg, and the last of the over-the-counter painkillers she’d taken earlier had long worn off. It was like being beaten all
over again.
The man froze for a few seconds before carefully setting her on her feet. He eased his hold once she was steady as tears
rolled down her cheeks. Shaw wiped her face, fighting to breathe shallowly and not make any other sounds that hinted she was
in pain. The last thing she needed was to appear weak before her new boss.
It took nearly a minute before she could look up at the man who stared down at her in horror.
He was big. So much bigger than Dan. Then his hair caught her attention. It was beautiful with multicolored patches of reds,
browns, tans, and blacks. It had to be natural because he did not seem to be the type to spend the hours it would take to color
his hair that way.
“You’re hurt,” he stated in a voice that was more growl than words. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Are you all right, Shaw?” Lonergan asked, though he stood well back.
Shaw opened her mouth to speak, but did not know how to assure the men she would survive, as long as no one hugged her
like that again. Swallowing hard, she dropped her eyes to the floor as she lied. “I’m all right.”
“What’s wrong with you, waif?” the man in front of her repeated.
“My ex-husband tried to beat me to death yesterday,” she answered bluntly. She was too tired and in too much pain to filter
her words.
The roar that echoed off the walls sent her instinctively to the floor as fear surged and overwhelmed her. She landed hard
on her butt, then curled into a ball, bringing her arms up to cover her head. She whimpered as her ass, and the rest of her
battered body, let her know she should not make such sudden, radical moves.
The silence that followed was nearly as deafening as the roar had been the moment before.
 Shaw remained where she was until a large, warm hand settled on one of the forearms covering the top of her head.
“Oh, waif, I’m so sorry for scaring you. Let’s get you up so we can talk,” the big man said. His voice was nearly as soft and
gentle as Gio, her stuffed best friend’s fur.
Breathing through the pain, Shaw slowly brought her arms down before looking up at him. He held out a hand, waiting
patiently when she did not immediately take it.
Instead, she took a moment to study him.
He was gorgeous, and his bright cerulean blue eyes appeared worried, but kind. There was no anger or hatred or craziness
in them. She had learned to read eyes, and his appeared like two pieces of warm summer sky, calling for her to fall into them
and fly.
Finally, she put her hand in his. A feeling of safety and security swept through her as he carefully pulled her to her feet.
Standing so close to him, the scent of fresh air and spices surrounded her, making her smile as an unfamiliar warmth sparked to
life low in her belly.
Kitchens had always been her happy space. The one place where she felt confident and sure of herself. She loved to cook,
especially baking. Her happiest memories of late were taking raw ingredients, mixing them into a dough and then making
something that made mouths water when it came out of the oven. Whether it was cookies, cakes or breads, her Little side loved
playing with dough. She only hoped the past few minutes hadn’t screwed her chance to get that feeling back.
Releasing the chef’s hand once she was on her feet, Shaw returned to the chair she had been sitting in before his rather
dramatic entrance. Once she was seated, he pulled a chair around to face her. He raised a hand, as if he wanted to touch her
again, but drew it into a fist and rested it on the table instead.
Lonergan sat down across the table from her and then made the introductions. “Marshall Ramsey, meet Shaw Tucker, pastry
chef. Shaw meet Marshall, Bratburg’s chef and your new boss.”
“And your mate,” Marshall added in a low rumble.
“My mate? What does that mean?” Shaw asked, frowning at the man who held her future in his hands.
If he did not like her or did not think she could cut it in his kitchen, she would be out on her ass. She’d seen it happen time
and again over the last dozen years. All it took was one or two complaints, either from customers or coworkers, and a baker,
line cook or sous chef would find themselves out of a job.
“We’ll discuss that later,” Marshall said in a soothing tone. “For now, tell me what kitchen experience you have so I know
where to start you once you’re recovered enough to work.”
Before she could answer, her stomach gave a loud, rumbling grumble, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since the sausage
sandwich she’d bought on her way to the Council building early that morning.
“You need to eat,” Marshall declared. “Then I want Kevin to examine you while I finish making dinner. Afterwards, we’ll
go to my house where you can settle in, rest, and recuperate.”
Shaw felt like she’d been swept up in a tornado and was not sure how to stop the world from swirling. “You can’t just take
me home with you,” she said, though neither man paid her any attention.
“Does this mean you’re claiming her?” Lonergan asked, staring hard at the chef.
“Yes. She is my mate.” Marshall spoke with a conviction in his voice that she had never heard before. Ever.

MARSHALL KNEW he was rushing things, but knowing his mate was injured made the need to take care of her almost as strong as
the need to mate her. Sadly, he did not feel comfortable claiming her as his own until she healed from whatever was currently
wrong with her.
When Shaw tried to protest, he ignored her. She needed someone to take care of her while she healed, and as her mate, it
fell to him. He would wait to discuss his Daddy tendencies and discover whether she was Little or not. It was too soon for a
lot of things between them, but that didn’t stop him from imagining the pretty woman sprawled naked across his bed, her long
hair in pigtails and fresh love bites marring her flesh where only he would be able to see them.
Right now, though, he needed to deal with her hungry belly and the pain he could see in her eyes. They would worry about
everything else later.
“What would you like to eat?”
Shaw shrugged, as she dropped her gaze to the table where her fingers were knotted tightly together. “I don’t care,” she
whispered softly. “I can wait until dinner time. No need to fuss.”
“You’re hungry, waif. I refuse to allow my mate to go hungry when it is well within my power to make you dinner now.” He
could see Shaw trying to form an argument, but he refused to allow it. “Let’s go into the kitchen and we’ll find something to
silence your angry belly.”
She looked from him to Lonergan and back again. “If you’re sure it’s no trouble.”
 “Not at all,” Marshall assured her as he rose then held a hand to her. “Now come along before you find yourself standing in
a corner for not cooperating.”
She blinked and stared up at him with big deep brown eyes that reminded him of a rich chocolate sauce.
His cock pulsed and he felt his lips curl up in an uncharacteristic smile, which was unusual for the taciturn tiger shifter.
“It’s going to be all right, Little one. Trust me.”
Shaw took a deep breath and winced as she released a sigh. “I don’t suppose I have much of a choice. I have nowhere else
to go.”
“You don’t have to go anywhere else, waif. You’re home.” Marshall wanted to howl in pleasure as she laid her hand on
his. “I promise, I will take very good care of you and make you proud to be my mate.”
Marshall led her into the kitchen and to a small wooden table with two chairs tucked in the corner of the kitchen beside the
washer and dryer. “Sit down and relax. What’s your favorite sandwich?”
Shaw blinked and stared at him a moment before dropping her head to stare at the tabletop as she shrugged. “Whatever. I’ll
eat anything.”
Marshall slid his hand under her chin and gently tilted her head back until her eyes met his.
“You don’t have to settle any longer. If it’s within my power, you will always have exactly what you want, no matter what.
Understand?”
“Yes, Chef,” Shaw said as her lips turned up into the smallest of smiles.
“Good girl, Now, what is your favorite kind of sandwich?”
 CHAPTER THREE

haw thought just a moment before she answered. “Peanut butter and banana, without the crusts, please. But only if it’s not

S too much trouble.”

She expected Marshall to scoff at her request for no crusts as Dan always had. Instead, the big man just nodded. “PB
and banana. That’s a new one. The girls usually want strawberry jam or grape jelly.”
Before she could defend her choice, Marshall moved away. He returned a moment later and set a plate in front of her. “Eat
that while I fix your sandwich.”
She looked down at the plate and smiled at the face looking back at her. Instead of just being tossed on the plate, the cut-up
vegetables made a face. Cucumber slices topped with cherry tomatoes made eyes while three baby carrots formed a smile, and
two slices of bell pepper created ears.
Her nearly forgotten Little side jumped up and down with excitement at meeting a man who understood what being Little
was all about. She grinned as she picked up a carrot. “Cute.”
“Would you like some dressing to dunk them in?”
“No thank you. I’m fine,” she responded automatically.
Between her parents and her ex, she kept her Little side locked down tight and never made requests -- for anything.
Besides, the vegetables were so fresh and crispy, they did not need dressing.
Marshall used two fingers under her chin to raise her head until she once again looked deep into his eyes. “Remember what
we just talked about? If you want dressing, don’t say you don’t.”
Shaw nodded. “I remember. But they’re really good naked. So fresh and full of flavor.”
Marshall chuckled, but Shaw had a feeling from the sound of it that he did not laugh often. “Naked vegetables. Well, they
taste fresh because I picked most of them from the garden an hour ago.”
“Wow. Really? I’ve always wanted to learn to garden, but …” she trailed off, stopping herself midsentence.
With her arrival at Bratburg, she was starting a new phase of her life and needed to stop dwelling on the past. Especially
when it seemed that Marshall was determined to be her future.
“Waif?”
She shook her head. “Never mind. It’s not important.”
Marshall looked like he did not believe her, but released her chin and her gaze as he crossed the kitchen to an open pantry
on the opposite wall. “I’ll be happy to teach you about gardening, and let you play in our gardens,” he said in a tone that Shaw
did not understand. But, between the aches and pains that were throbbing with each heartbeat, and exhaustion of the past few
days catching up with her, she admitted her tracking capabilities were not that great.
She turned her attention to the veggie plate, savoring each quickly eaten bite. Just as she finished the last slice of cucumber,
Marshall took the empty plate away and slid another into its place.
She smiled even as tears welled in her eyes. She blinked them back as she looked up at the man who sat down in the chair
across from her. He had made her two sandwiches. Not only had he cut the crusts off the bread, but he also used some kind of
press to seal the edges together and give the bread a face.
“You made me a kitty face sandwich,” she whispered as she wiped her eyes.
He shrugged and looked uncomfortable. “I thought it would make you smile. Why are you crying?”
Shaw couldn’t help but laugh. “They’re happy tears. No one has ever made me a kitty face sandwich before.”
“Oh. Well, that’s a fucking shame. I’ll make you kitty face sandwiches any time you want. I also have a teddy bear press, a
star, and dinosaurs.”
“Really? That’s so cool. I wonder if they could be used to make pastries,” Shaw’s baker side popped out and began to
brainstorm ideas.
“You can play them … after you’re recovered,” Marshall said.
“Yes, Chef,” Shaw said in her softer, Little voice. Taking a deep breath, she tried to push her inner Little back into the box
she normally kept her in. Problem was the box seemed to be falling apart.
Picking up her sandwich, she took a bite and chewed. When the flavors hit her tongue, she stopped. There was something
different about this sandwich. Something that made it so much more than a simple peanut butter and banana on white bread
combination.
“Something wrong?”
“You added something else. What did you add?”
He smiled, appearing impressed that she had tasted the difference. “I sprinkled the peanut butter with some cinnamon sugar
before adding the banana. You have a sensitive palate.”
Shaw took another bite and nodded as she was now able to discern the different flavors. “It’s good. No, it’s great. And it’s
a kitty face which makes it even better.”
She quickly finished the first sandwich and was able to manage about half the second before she set it down and pushed the
plate away. “I’m full, but it was delicious,” she said as she settled back in her chair.
“Good girl,” he praised. “Now, we need to talk.”
His last four words sent a shiver of dread through her, but she tried not to show her fear as she nodded.
“Are you Little?”
His question shocked her. How did he know? Had she done something to alert him to her Little? Well, other than asking for
a sandwich with no crusts, and being delighted with a kitty face.
“I’m twenty-eight years old. Hardly a little girl.”
“And I’m forty-two,” Marshall said as he leaned forward and brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Age is just a number
and being a Little girl has nothing to do with age. It is a mindset, a personality trait. And I believe you have that mindset, but
someone in your past did not allow you to live your truth. Or am I misinterpreting the signs? Do you even know what being
Little is?”
Shaw blinked as she thought over his words for a long moment before slowly lifting her shoulders. “I do. I’ve read
romances about Daddies and Littles. I’m just not sure I’m actually one even though I like to color and watch Disney movies, put
sprinkles on everything, and sleep with Gio, my tiger stuffie. But does that make me Little?”
She looked at the chef and tried to read his expression, but it was difficult. His expression was strangely neutral. She could
not tell if he was angry or speculative, or trying to decide whether or not to send her back to the capital without even letting her
show him what she could do in the kitchen.
It was nearly a minute before he finally smiled. “I have a feeling you are, but we can explore that later. For now, I need to
finish making dinner and you need to rest.”
He stood and held out a hand, which she did not hesitate in taking. She followed him across the kitchen to a door.
The door was to Marshall’s office. The room was big enough to hold a desk and bookcase filled with cookbooks on one
side and a daybed with several pillows and a fuzzy blanket folded up at the foot on the other.
“Lie down and take a nap. I’ll be busy in the kitchen for the next couple of hours. I’ll talk to Kevin about seeing you after
dinner and then we’ll go home and get you settled in.”
Though she was still confused about everything that had happened in the past couple of hours, she nodded and approached
the bed.
Shaw sighed in appreciation of the soft, non-lumpy mattress. She froze when Marshall pulled off her shoes before covering
her with the warm, fuzzy blanket. After brushing a kiss on her forehead, he stepped back. “Sleep, waif. I’ll be just outside if
you need me.”
 Shaw nodded, but closed her eyes and was asleep before she thought to thank him for his kindness.

WHILE MARSHALL WANTED to rush everyone through dinner, he knew that was not possible. At least not tonight. The new
trainees needed time to bond with each other, and with their guardians. At least the two Little girls who volunteered to deliver
food to the buffet line and bring back empty dishes were experienced and did not need too much supervision.
Three hours later, the leftover food was put away, the dishes and kitchen were cleaned, dried and ready for the morning,
and he had prepared a pair of casseroles for breakfast. Kevin sat at the kitchen table waiting for him to finish up so he could be
present when he examined Shaw.
Taking off his apron, Marshall tossed it into the laundry basket and turned to the panther shifter, who was a trained EMT
and served as the institute’s medical staff.
“Ready?” Kevin asked as he pushed to his feet.
Marshall nodded and led the way to his office. He’d had a tough time keeping himself from checking on Shaw every few
minutes but kept reminding himself that the more time he spent watching her sleep, the longer it would take to finish up his
work.
Opening the door, the knot in his gut loosened when he saw she was right where he had left her. She was curled up on her
side and hugging a stuffed tiger, though he had no idea where that had come from.
He slowly approached the bed, not wanting to scare her. “Shaw? Little waif? Time to wake up,” his voice rumbled softly.
He reached out and gently rubbed the back of one finger down the side of the beautiful woman’s face.
She jerked and whimpered as she wiggled away from him. The wall on the other side of the bed wall stopped her.
“Shaw, wake up.”
Shaw’s eyes opened and she appeared to relax when she realized it was him. “Oh, Chef. Hi.”
“Hi. You okay?”
She took a breath and nodded. “I’m fine.”
Marshall had to fight down a frown at her obvious lie. His palm itched to spank the lying out of her.
“Uh-huh, sure you are. Kevin is going to look you over and determine how much of a lie you just told,” he straightened and
then helped her sit up. When she was vertical, she swayed slightly as if moving had left her dizzy.
“Kevin?”
“Kevin takes care of us. He’s going to look you over.”
“I don’t like doctors,” she whispered, sounding as if that would stop what was coming. “I just need a day or two of rest and
I’ll be fine.”
“Why don’t you let me decide that, sweetheart,” Kevin said as he stepped up to stand beside him.
Marshall’s tiger was not pleased with the endearment. Marshall looked at the EMT and growled, “Mine.”
The other man nodded. “I understand, Chef. The sleepy princess is spoken for.”
Marshall nodded before reluctantly taking a step back and allowing Kevin to examine his mate. He growled at every sound
Shaw made in response to Kevin’s examination. By the end of it, all he wanted to do was to sweep Shaw up and carry her off
so they could be alone.
Finally, Kevin stepped back and turned to him. “I don’t see any broken bones. Just a lot of bruises and soreness. She’s
exhausted and needs a lot of rest, good food, and TLC.”
“When can I start working?” Shaw asked before Marshall could respond.
“At least two weeks,” Kevin shot her a look before turning back to Marshall. “If OTC painkillers don’t work, let me know
and I can get you something stronger. I want to see her in my office in two weeks to determine whether she’s up to working or
not.”
Marshall nodded. “Thanks, Kevin. Now get out.”
The panther shifter left quickly, and Marshall was able to turn his attention to his mate. “Ready to see your new home
now?”
 CHAPTER FOUR

haw clutched Gio tight to her chest as she followed Marshall out the back door of the dining hall.

S “You didn’t lock the door,” she commented as he slipped her backpack over one shoulder and started walking down
a path that led into the darkness.
“No reason to. The resident shifters know if they’re caught stealing food from the kitchen, I won’t cook for them.
There have been isolated incidents of the Littles sneaking in and stealing cookies, but I leave their punishments to their
Daddies,” Marshall said.
Shifters? Well, that would certainly explain his hair, but she wondered what species he was.
“What about the trainees?” Shaw asked, assuming the Littles he talked about were not in the same category as the trainees
who came to Bratburg for a month before returning to human society.
“They won’t take anything without permission for fear of being sent back before the Council.”
“Uh-huh. I suppose that makes sense.”
It wasn’t until the conversation lagged that Shaw realized how dark it was getting. Looking around, she did not see any
lights ahead to signify there was a house nearby. “Um, Chef?”
“Yes?”
“Where are we going?
She tried not to let her fear color her tone, but heard the shiver in her words. She knew he heard it as well when he stepped
closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“We’re going home. Tiger shifters are more solitary than other shifters,” he said as if that was why they were walking
through the dark.
A tiger, like Gio, her plushie and best friend. Despite her uncertainties, she felt herself relax under his protective arm.
“I love tigers,” she murmured.
“Then it’s a good thing you’re my mate, isn’t it?”
“Uh-huh. It’s very dark,” Shaw said as she leaned ever so slightly into the big man’s side.
“Are you afraid of the dark, Little one?”
“Uh-huh. Bad things happen in the dark.” She did not say anything further, so she did not remember the things that happened
in the dark.
“I’ll talk to Jaxon about getting some of those solar lights to put out so it’s not so dark for you. Until then, you don’t leave
the house without me. Okay?”
“Okay. Thank you.”
Shaw jumped when she felt him brush a kiss on the top of her head.
“Anything to make my waif happy and comfortable, he murmured. “Watch out, there are three steps here to the porch.”
When she tripped on the second step, she gasped when Marshall picked her up and set her on his hip before continuing up
to the porch. He opened a door and walked inside, still holding her. Closing the door behind them, he flipped a switch and the
lights flashed on.
Shaw looked around and could not help but say, “Oh, it’s beautiful,” as he set her on her feet.

MARSHALL KNEW she was lying but did not immediately call her on it. How could something as sparse and strictly functionally
furnished be considered beautiful?
Then he thought about it for a moment. She had a bad habit of lying, trying not to draw attention to herself, not to hurt
feelings, but he was tired of it.
Once she recovered, they would be addressing her penchant for lying. In the meantime, he would just keep track of her
infractions and they would settle up once she was healed from her ex-husband’s abuse.
“That’s five. At least,” he said as he walked into the kitchen and pulled two bottles of water from the refrigerator.
They had just enough time to talk about rules and mates before bedtime.
“Five what?”
“Five lies I’ve heard you tell. Keep it up and you won’t be sitting comfortably for a long time once you’re healed.”
“What do you mean?” Shaw asked, her eyes going wide as she watched him warily.
“Little girls who lie to their Daddies get punished. I think five spanks for each lie should help you to stop. Lying also
breaks trust between mates, and since I’m hoping to build trust between us, your lying will just make things harder.”
Marshall watched his mate closely as he spoke. Her eyes went so wide that he worried they would fall out of their sockets.
“Waif? Is spanking a hard limit for you?”
Shaw blinked and focused on him, looking pale. “You want to beat me? No. Oh no. No, no, no, no, no.”
She started toward the door and was outside, frozen at the top of the porch steps before Marshall could catch her.
“Waif, no. I will never beat you. A calm, controlled spanking helps to recenter and correct behavior, and it should never
leave bruises. The only thing that will hurt will be your bottom.” Marshal explained as gently as he could.
Shaw remained frozen in position, staring out into the night until he began to wonder if he’d fucked up so much that she
would not allow him to claim her. After counting to ninety-nine in his head, he tried again.
“Waif, come back inside. We need to talk about things.”
Shaw turned her head just enough to show him her wide, deer-in-the-headlights eyes. “You won’t spank me?”
“No spanking today. Or any day until Kevin says you’re healed enough to take one. By then, I hope we will have built up
enough trust in me to know I will never harm you as your rat bastard ex did.”
Holding his breath, Marshall waited. A soft giggle helped him relax just the tiniest bit.
“Rat bastard ex. I like it. I think that’s what I’ll call him from now on.”
“You can call him R-B-X,” Marshall corrected, “because Little girls are not allowed to swear.”
Shaw blinked up at him before smirking. “If I’m not allowed to swear, then neither are you.”
Marshall thought her comment over for a few seconds before nodding and shifting the hand he held out to her from palm up
to facing sideways in a handshake position. “Deal?”
Shaw placed her hand in his with a grin. “Deal. And we’ll have a swear jar in the kitchen for when you forget. Because I
bet you’ll forget a lot.”
“We will?”
“Yes, Chef, mate, Daddy. We will.”
After shaking hands, Marshall pulled her close. Wrapping one arm around her back, he bent down and brushed a quick kiss
over her lips. A strong shiver of awareness went through them both and he wondered how long he would have to wait before
fully claiming his mate and making her his own.
 CHAPTER FIVE

hough she still wasn’t sure about her being a Little girl to Marshall’s Daddy Dom, or Marshall being a shifter and her

T being his mate, she returned inside the house with him.
“Good girl,” he praised as he led her to the big leather sectional couch that was the main furniture in the living
room. There were also two end tables and the biggest flat screen television she’d ever seen covering the wall in front
of the couch.
She was surprised when Marshall sat down, then pulled her down to sit across his lap. When she tried to move off, he held
her hips still. “Stay there, waif.”
“Chef?”
“When we are not in the kitchen, you can call me Marshall or mate, though I would prefer that you call me Papa. Chef is for
when we’re on the job.”
“Yes, Marshall,” she said, wrinkling her nose how not-right it sounded. She tried again with, “Yes, mate.” It felt less
wrong, but still not completely right. “Yes, Papa.”
With that, something warm and fuzzy unfurled around her heart.
Was she a Little without truly acknowledging it? She knew she liked some little girl activities, though Dan would have a fit
and accuse her of all sorts of improprieties if she had exposed this side of herself. She remembered hiding Gio in her
nightstand, and her coloring books in with her cookbooks.
Question now was, how did she feel about calling Marshall Papa?
Thinking about it for a few seconds, she smiled.
It felt good.
It felt right.
“Now, let’s talk about mates and mating, Daddies and Littles, and your rules,” Marshall said, handing her a bottle of water
from the dual cupholders built into the couch’s arm.
When she could not open it, he took it back and twisted the top off without problem. She immediately lifted it to her lips
and drank down half the contents. Normally she wasn’t a big water drinker because tap water in the city tasted yucky, but this
tasted so much better.
Marshall drank from his own bottle before praising her. After setting his bottle aside, he returned hers to the cupholder.
Then he rubbed one hand up and down her back while the other covered her hands in her lap.
 “Now, let’s start with Daddies and Little girls …”
By the time they finished their conversation, Shaw was yawning and nearly boneless with exhaustion. Her head rested on
Marshall’s shoulder, and she was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. When he stood with her in his arms, she jerked
awake.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s bedtime, waif,” he answered simply as he continued to carry her.
“But …”
“You’ll be staying in the guestroom until we both are ready to share a bed,” he assured her, as if he could read her mind.
“Oh. Okay.”
He carried her into a huge bathroom and set her on the counter and reached for a clean washcloth from a basket. In less than
a minute, he had wet the cloth and began washing her face and hands.
“You’re too tired for one tonight, so a bath will have to wait until tomorrow after breakfast,” he said as he exchanged the
washcloth with a new in the package toothbrush that came from the same basket. After putting toothpaste on it, he handed it to
her.
“We’ll also have to see about ordering you some more clothes, both for work, and for Little times.”
She was too tired to argue with him at the moment but made a mental note to find a way to pay him back for his kindness.
After brushing her teeth, she looked at the toilet and then the man.
“Could I have some privacy?”
“Why?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Her face burned as she whispered, “I have to pee.”
“Oh, okay. But know that soon it won’t matter if I’m in the room or not,” Marshall said as he lifted her down from the
counter.
“Maybe, but today is not that day,” Shaw said, then braced herself for being backhanded for her snarky comment.
When he did not hit her, she opened her eyes and watched him leave the room. “I’ll get you something to sleep in while you
do your business.”
And she was alone. After using the toilet, Shaw washed her hands and then followed Marshall out of the bathroom. The
guest room only contained a twin-sized bed and a pine dresser. The walls were white, and there were no curtains on the
windows. Not that she could see anything out of them, but she wondered if anyone would be looking in.
“We’ll eventually turn this room into your playroom,” Marshall said after giving her a moment to take in the space, “so
think about how you would like to decorate it. Go ahead and get changed and I’ll be back to tuck you into bed.”
Though she wanted to point out that she could put herself to bed, it seemed important to him, so Shaw nodded and accepted
the t-shirt he handed her.
As soon as he left the room, she stepped back into the dark bathroom. It only took a moment to strip off her clothes and pull
on the t-shirt. The shirt swamped her and fell nearly to her knees. She smiled when she realized it smelled like Marshall.
Stepping back into the bedroom, she frowned. She did not remember where she left Gio. A moment later, Marshall stepped
back into the room, carrying her stuffed tiger. “I found this guy in the living room, and he demanded I bring him to you
immediately.”
“Thank you,” she said, accepting the stuffie before climbing into the bed and settling in.
“Does he have a name?”
Shaw smiled as she held up the tiger. “This is Gio. Gio, meet Marshall, our man, mate, and Papa.” Calling Marshall Papa
was coming easier and easier, and felt very right.
“Hello, Gio,” Marshall said with a smile as he used a finger to stroke the top of the stuffie’s head. “It is very nice to meet
you. Now, I want you two to go right to sleep. If you need me, I’m right next door. Call out or come get me if you need me,
okay?”
“Yes, Papa,” Shaw answered through a yawn.
She tensed for a quick moment when he planted a hand on the bed beside her shoulder as he leaned over the bed. She
relaxed when he merely brushed kisses on her face – first her forehead, then the tip of her nose, before finishing with a quick
kiss to her lips. He was straightening before she could respond.
“I’ll leave the bathroom light on until we can get you a nightlight,” he said, flipping the light on before turning off the light
in the bedroom and stepping out. “Good night, my mate.”
“Good night, Papa.”
Rolling over, Shaw stared across the room and wondered what she was doing, falling into a relationship with Marshall
even before the wounds her ex-husband had left her with had healed. Mating with a shifter went deeper than any commitment
between two humans. Once it was consummated, it was forever. Yesterday, she couldn’t even see tomorrow and now she was
promising her forever to a man she’d just met? She wanted to think she was making a mistake, but no matter how she scolded
herself, she couldn’t talk herself out of it. She felt safe with him. But was that enough to build forever on?
 Before she could make any further decisions about her future, her solitude, and mating a shifter, exhaustion rolled over her.
Her eyes drifted shut and sleep pulled her under its spell.

THOUGH HE WAS TIRED from yet another long day in the kitchen, Marshall knew he would not sleep. His tiger was prowling in
his chest and would remain ruffled until they claimed and mated Shaw. His cock was also hard as a steel rod and demanding
attention.
After pacing the living room for a half hour without being able to relax, he checked on Shaw and found her sound asleep.
Hoping she would not need him for the next hour or so, Marshall stepped out the back door to the porch and stripped off his
clothes. A run through the forest would hopefully settle both sides of his shifter.
Taking a deep breath, he shivered in the chilly night air as his tiger pushed forward and took over. The shift took only a few
seconds and then he launched himself off the porch and headed into the woods. He began to run, keeping to the barely there
path his tiger had carved through the forest over the years he had lived in Bratburg.
While he knew there would be other shifters patrolling the mountains around the institute, he was not worried about any of
them attacking him. He was the third most dangerous shifter in the area behind Lonergan and Harrigan.
It only took a few minutes to reach the narrow path that circled Bratburg. The path was several miles long, but running it
allowed him a good stretch of the legs. He tried not to think of what waited back at the cabin for him. Instead, he focused on the
path, the night sounds, the cool air that ruffled his fur, and allowed his tiger to run free. It had been several weeks since he had
allowed his tiger such freedom.
By the time he returned to the cabin, still in tiger form, his beast was more relaxed, though still not happy at not being able
to make Shaw their own. At the same time, the man was ready to crawl into bed and crash for a few hours. Even without his
mate in his arms.
As he stepped into the backyard, the porch light flashed on. He froze mid step as Shaw stood up from the one wicker chair
on the back porch. She looked delightfully rumpled with a blanket wrapped around her as she took a step closer to the back
door.
Shifting as quickly as he could, Marshall stood straight and slowly strolled toward her. “Waif? Are you okay?”
She gasped and took another step toward the door. Was she going to lock him out?
“You …” she began and then swallowed hard as she turned around. “Your tiger is so big. I didn’t realize tigers were that
big.”
He stepped onto the porch and quickly pulled on his chef’s pants. No need to scare her with his hard cock flapping in the
breeze.
“Shifters tend to run a little larger than the natural animal.” He grabbed the rest of his clothes in one hand. “Why aren’t you
in bed? I wouldn’t have left if I’d known you were not asleep.”
“I woke up and wanted to talk to you, but you weren’t here. I saw your clothes out on the rail, so I thought I’d wait for you.”
He slowly crossed the porch, hoping she wouldn’t run. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her further because she ran
from him.
“What did you want to talk about?” he asked, not sure if he should be afraid of her answer or not.
Shaw took a slow deep breath, wincing slightly before she spoke. “I might be crazy since we just met this afternoon, but
I’ve decided I do want you to claim me as your mate.”
 CHAPTER SIX

haw woke alone in the guestroom. Again. It had been a week since she’d arrived in Bratburg. Seven long days since she

S found out that she was fated to be the mate of a tiger shifter. Seven interminable nights since she’d told Marshall she
wanted to be his mate.
Instead of taking her to bed and mating her after her announcement, Marshall escorted her back to the guestroom and
tucked her into bed. Since then, she had done little more than sleep, eat, and watch Marshall work in his kitchen. He barely
allowed her to follow him from the cabin to the kitchen to the gardens and back again. By the time they returned home each
night, she was exhausted and fell into bed to sleep long and deep each night.
That ended today. One way or another, she was determined to move their relationship forward.
“Waif, time to get up,” Marshall said as he knocked twice on the hall door.
Though she had been sitting in the middle of the bed brooding for the last half hour, Shaw did not climb out of bed as she
had the previous six mornings. Instead, she laid back and rolled to her side, pulling Gio onto her chest.
She watched the door open, and Marshall leaned his top half into the room. “Waif?”
“I’m not going today, thank you,” she said before rolling to face the other way and pulling the blankets over her head.
She heard Marshall’s steps as he crossed the room. The bed shifted behind her as he sat down at her hip. A hand rubbed up
and down her back over the covers before it landed hard and heavy on the side of her ass.
“Ouch!”
“Up and at ‘em, Little girl,” he said as he pulled the covers back, exposing her head and shoulder. “Breakfast for the
institute won’t make itself.”
“Don’t care. I just wanna stay here today,” she said, her Little in full control.
Her injuries were healed, the pain was mostly gone, and her bruises were fading. She was tired of doing nothing. She
missed baking, missed being productive. She needed to be doing something.
She also felt so horny that long pointy horns should be growing out of the top of her head. She was not sure what Marshall
was waiting for, but she was tired of it. It was time to move this relationship past the friends’ stage. They had spent every spare
minute talking, and she knew more about him in the past seven days than she knew her ex-husband.
She blinked when Marshall leaned over until only a few inches separated their faces. He did not look happy.
“That’s not happening, Little girl. Now get up before I reach three, or you’ll be getting dressed with a hot, sore bottom. And
breakfast will be even later for the entire institute.”
 “Oh, all right, but just so you know, I’m not happy,” Shaw grumped as she tossed the covers back and sat up.
“And what is it that you are not happy about, waif?”
Turning to frown at him, Shaw decided she had nothing to lose by being completely honest. “I’m not happy that you won’t
let me help you in the kitchen. If you would let me do my job, you wouldn’t have to work so hard and maybe then you’d have
enough energy at the end of the day to fuck me and claim me as your mate.”
“No bad language.”
His three-word response, which focused on the curse word and not the entirety of her statement, flipped Shaw from anger
to pain. It was becoming more and more obvious that Marshall did not want her as his mate.
So why did he keep her around?
Without another word, Shaw went to the dresser and pulled out clean clothes. She carried them with her to the bathroom
and started dressing while she peed. Once dressed, she moved to the sink and, after washing her hands and face, she quickly
tamed her hair. All the while, she fought down the tears that filled her eyes and threatened to spill over.
Now ready for the day, she returned to the bedroom and pulled on her socks and shoes. Putting Gio into her bookbag with
the books from the institute library, coloring books, and pouch full of pens and crayons she carried to keep herself occupied,
Shaw headed to the main part of the cabin.
Marshall was pacing from the kitchen to the front door, and between his prowling strides and his multi-colored hair, she
could see his tiger was close to the surface.
“I’m ready,” she said softly, heading for the front door.
She fought to keep her tears at bay and her voice soft as she faced the front door and waited for him. As usual during their
walk from cabin to dining hall, Marshall took her hand in his as they left the porch.
They walked to the dining hall without a word being spoken. Once in the kitchen, Marshall put on his apron and washed his
hands as he did every morning.
With a huffed sigh, Shaw carried her backpack to the small table in the corner and settled in for another day of being bored.
“Do you think you can make cookies for lunch? And maybe a cake or two for dinner?”
His questions stunned her, and it took her a moment to answer. “Yes, Chef. Any special flavor?”
“Your choice, but if you make anything with chocolate or nuts, please make a second option without either,” he said.
Shaw nodded her understanding as she went to the kitchen’s well-stocked pantry to see what she had to work with. She
wanted to impress him, as well as the rest of the residents of Bratburg, but could only do that by working within the parameters
he had set.
Since it would not take all morning for the baking he asked for, she turned and found him standing just behind her. His
expression flashed into something she could not read before it smoothed out and he smiled.
“Find everything you need?”
Shaw nodded then asked, “Is there anything I can do to help with breakfast?”
Which is how she found herself bouncing between three waffle makers. While she made dozens of waffles, Marshall
cooked bacon, link sausages, and a couple dozen eggs.

S HAW’ S WORDS TO explain her early morning grumps rocked his world. Kevin had said she needed a few days to recover, but
Marshall had been dragging his feet on claiming his mate. He wanted to be sure she was happy both at Bratburg and with him
because once they mated, she would not have any option but to stay with him for the rest of their lives.
Allowing her to make desserts was the first step in integrating her fully into her new life. Tonight, after dinner was finished
and they had prepared what they could for the next morning’s breakfast, he would sit her down and they would talk once again
about mates, mating, and what it meant for the rest of their lives.
Then, if she still agreed, he would carry her to his bed and fully claim her as the mate he would spend the rest of his life
loving, protecting, and caring for.
But first, they needed to get through today. His tiger was making it difficult to stay focused on the tasks at hand, ending up
with him laying his hand on the grill as he was pulling bacon off of it.
Without a word, he transferred the bacon to a platter one-handed. Only when it was safely handed off to one of the young
women assigned as the breakfast runner did he hurry to the sink and turn on the cold tap. With a pained, muttered curse, he stuck
his hand under the water.
“Chef? What did you do?” Shaw asked as she approached and peeked around his arm.
“Just touched something I shouldn’t have,” he said, trying to make light of the incident. This wasn’t the first time he had
burned himself and he knew it wouldn’t be the last. At least as a shifter, he would heal quickly and be able to get back to work
in an hour or so.
 “I’ll get Kevin,” Shaw said stepping away quickly.
“No, don’t bother,” he called, though a glance told him she was already out of the kitchen.
Two minutes later, his hand was nearly frozen as she pushed past the people standing in the doorway. Kevin followed her
into the kitchen with a frown. It wasn’t until they stood beside him that Marshall realized she held the man’s wrist in a death
grip.
“Waif, I’m fine. It’s just a little burn,” he said gently.
In his experience, Littles hated injuries of any kind – theirs, or anyone else’s. Apparently Shaw was no different. Ignoring
him, she pointed to the sink with one shaking hand while flapping her other hand as if it were her hand that was injured.
“See, I told you he’s hurt. He needs you to fix him.” She sounded panicked and looked pale as she looked from his hand to
Kevin once more.
“All right, Shaw. I’ll take care of him. Why don’t you check to make sure all the stove and hot appliances are turned off.”
As she hurried away, Marshall noticed that Kevin was not the only outsider in his kitchen. Lonergan and Kodiak, the head
of institute security, were standing well inside his kitchen with their arms extended to keep the resident Littles from rushing
across the room at him.
“I’m fine,” he told Kevin before turning his attention to the crowd. “Whoever is still in my kitchen in three seconds will be
put to work cleaning every square inch of the dining hall floor … with toothbrushes,” he said in his growly, grumpy chef voice.
It was the voice that kept everyone out of his kitchen between meals. The growl, combined with his heavy wooden spoon,
also kept the trainees assigned to help in the kitchen on the straight and narrow.
Before he even started the count, the kitchen emptied, leaving just him, Kevin, and Shaw. She now stood next to the
refrigerator watching him with wide, tear-filled eyes. He could see her trembling from here. Though he would prefer to give
her a hug and cuddle, he had a feeling she might not appreciate the gesture, no matter how much she needed it. After all, they
were at work and not in the privacy of the cabin.
Instead, he would give her something else to focus on.
“Waif, you’re in charge until Kevin finishes with me,” he said, gentling his tone.
“Yes, Chef,” she answered softly.
He watched as she took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. He had no doubt that after watching him for the last
week, she knew exactly what needed to be done to shut down after breakfast and begin the prep work for lunch.
Taking that as his cue, Kevin grabbed the wrist that was not injured and pulled him toward his office. “I’ll be the judge of
how fine you are, if you don’t mind,” he said with a smirk.
Marshall huffed in disgust as he allowed the panther shifter to lead him into his office. Once they were in the office,
Marshall closed the door then moved around to sit in the chair behind his desk. He wasn’t surprised when Kevin settled on the
corner of his desk.
“How’s the hand?”
“I’m fine,” Marshall looked at his hand before holding it up. The hand that had been blistering a few minutes before was
nearly healed.
“I knew you would be, but that Little girl of yours was so panicked, I did not want to upset her further by not looking you
over. How’s she doing?”
“She fussed this morning that she was healed enough to work and be mated. Almost earned herself a spanking because of
her display of temper,” Marshall said with a twitch of his lips. “We’ll see how she feels tonight, after a day of baking, but it
looks like yet another mating will be happening soon.”
 CHAPTER SEVEN

y the time Shaw put her apron in the laundry basket that evening, she was ready to crawl into bed. But it was a good

B kind of tired, the kind that came from working hard and making a whole lot of people happy with her sweet creations.
Even Chef seemed impressed with her creations despite her keeping things simple with oatmeal raisin and
chocolate chip cookies at lunch. For dinner, she had decided on cupcakes and made strawberry banana and yellow cake
with mocha chocolate icing. Though she did not want to admit it, she was surprised there were only a few cookies and a half-
dozen cupcakes left at the end of the evening.
“Ready to go home?”
She nodded, but instead of speaking when she opened her mouth, she yawned widely. She approached Marshall slowly,
wondering if he would take her to his bed tonight, or if she would spend yet another night in the guestroom, dreaming about
him.
“How is your hand?”
He held it up, palm toward her, so she could see. “All better. Something you should know about shifters. We have
remarkable healing abilities. Cuts and burns are nothing. Even bruises heal in hours instead of days. The only thing we really
have a hard time healing from are losing limbs and massive blood loss.”
“Oh. So, I didn’t need to get Kevin this morning, huh?”
“No, but I’m glad you did. It showed the others that you care.”
“Of course I care! You’re my mate, and I don’t want you hurting because of a kitchen accident.”
Marshall stepped close and wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you, sweet waif. Now, are you ready to go home and go
to bed?”
Shaw could not stop her bottom lip from poking out as she pulled back and frowned up at him. “I don’t want to go to bed so
early. Can’t we do some mating practice instead?”
Marshall tapped her bottom lip with a slight frown. “Put this away, it won’t work on me and will only get you sent to bed a
hot ass.”
Shaw sucked it in, rolling her lips over her teeth so they disappeared completely. But she could not stop herself from
huffing a sigh to show her disappointment. “Yes, Chef.”
She could not help squealing when Marshall suddenly scooped her into his arms. When he shifted her to straddle one hip,
she wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding on like a monkey in a tree.
 “Shh, little waif. I’ve got you,” he rumbled as he headed out the kitchen door. He pulled it closed then headed down the
steps and across the yard.
“What are you doing?” she asked when he did not put her down but kept walking into the dark of night.
“I thought it was obvious, waif. I’m carrying you home. You’re tired and need to save your energy.”
His long strides quickly carried them toward his cabin in the woods. Shaw turned her face and giggled as the breeze
brushed over her face. It took them less than half the time to reach the cabin than it had walking into work that morning.
“Wow, you move fast, when you want to,” she said as he entered the front door with her still riding his hip. Her pussy
clenched as her clit rubbed against his body.
Marshall chuckled as he closed and locked the door. He then carried her across the living room and down the hall to the
bedrooms. Instead of stepping into the room she’d slept in each night since arriving in Bratburg, he carried her into his room
and set her down on the end of his bigger-than-king-size bed.
“Don’t move,” he said with a fiber of power laced through his voice.
Shaw froze, barely even breathing as she watched him prowl across the room and into the bathroom. A moment later, she
heard water running. He then returned to stand in front of her.
“A bath and bed for my little baker,” he said as he knelt before her and took off her shoes and socks.
“Are you going to get in the bath with me?”
He looked up at her and smiled. “Would you like that? For Papa to take a bath with you?”
Shaw moved her head up and down as she lifted her arms so he could pull her t-shirt over her head. “Yes, please. That is,
um, if you want to.”
Her words were muffled by the cloth of her shirt, but once she was free from it, she checked his expression and found that
heat and hunger had replaced his grin.
“I’d like that very much, waif.”

ONCE HE HAD DIVESTED Shaw of her clothes, Marshall turned his back to her and quickly pulled off his own. He then gathered
them all from the floor and dumped them into the hamper. Even as his need for Shaw grew, his neatnik tendencies kept him from
sweeping her up and carrying her into the bathroom.
Facing the bed, he studied the woman sitting on his bed and sighed with happiness. His mate was beautiful, with full
breasts and hips, and pale skin that called for him to mark her as his own. Her hair just brushed her jawline in a blunt cut that
accentuated her neck and made his teeth hurt. He could not wait to bury his canines into the place where neck flowed into
shoulder, the place that pulsed with life, and just begged for his bite.
Her eyes were wide as she looked him up and down, from hairline to toes, before zeroing in on his cock. His long, thick,
erect cock.
“Wow,” she breathed as he slowly approached the bed.
“Ready?”
“Huh?”
“Are you ready for a bath?” he asked as he gathered her up in his arms and carried her into the bathroom.
He heard her swallow before she whispered, “Yes, Papa. But maybe we should have sex and mate first? Then we won’t
have to take two baths.”
Marshall could not stop himself from chuckling at the hopeful tone in his Little mate’s voice. “I refuse to smell like sweat
and feel greasy from cooking food all day when I fully mate my woman.”
He stepped into the tub and sat down in the biggest tub Lonergan could find him. Now that they were both seated, he
arranged her on his thighs facing him with his erection standing straight up between them.
When she frowned up at him, he cocked and eyebrow. “What’s wrong, waif? Is the water too hot? Too cold?”
Her expression smoothed and she shook her head. “It’s fine.”
As he wet a washcloth and pumped liquid soap on it, he could tell something was bothering her.
“Papa isn’t a mind reader, sweetheart. If you want or need something, you need to tell me, so I can get it for you.”
Shaw dropped her head forward, then raised one hand to stroke one fingertip down the center of his chest. He grabbed her
hand before she reached his still-throbbing erection. He pulled it up and placed a kiss in the palm before laying it on the top of
his shoulder.
“Waif? Tell Papa, please.”
“Don’t you have any bubbles? Or bath toys?” she whispered as her other hand slid beneath the water and wrapped around
his cock.
Sucking in a sharp breath, he grabbed her wrist and pulled it out of the water. This hand got the same treatment and when
she began to wiggle her hips closer, he dropped his hands to hold them still.
“No touching Papa’s cock without permission. Especially when I’m this close to losing control. And I’m afraid I don’t have
any bubbles or toys. After breakfast tomorrow morning, we’ll visit the storehouse and see what they have. And if there’s
nothing you like there, we’ll get on the computer and order you everything you need, want or dream of. Okay?”
She looked up at him, her dark brown eyes wide. “Oh, I can’t ask you to do that. I can wait until my first paycheck and then
buy some bubbles myself.”
“No, you won’t. As my mate, it is my duty and honor to take care of you. Which means washing you when you’re dirty,
protecting you when you’re in danger, and providing you with anything you might want. What you have to do is decide what
flavor bubbles you want, and whether you want ducks, boats or mermaids to play with. Understand?”
“Yes, Papa,” she whispered before leaning in and brushing her lips across his. “I do have one request. Can you hurry up
and wash us so we can get to the mating part?”
Marshall could only laugh as he searched around her hip and thigh to find the washcloth before soaping it up once again.
“That sounds like a very good idea, waif. Now put your hands on top of your head.”
 CHAPTER EIGHT

ailey was stunned that once she lifted her arms and piled her hands on top of her head, Marshall focused on washing

B them both. As she watched, he quickly washed himself down, and turned his attention to her. He took his time washing
her, but at the same time did not linger to tease and arouse.
The position raised her nipples out of the bathwater, and they puckered to tight beads as the cooler air wafted over
her wet skin. Marshall did not seem interested as he swirled the washcloth over them before washing the rest of her, both in
and out of the water. He did not even linger as he dragged the washcloth between her legs, causing her to suck in a breath when
it swiped over her exposed clit.
She squealed when he surged to his feet, still holding her in his arms as he stepped out of the tub.
“Papa, you shouldn’t do that,” she scolded as he set her on the counter across the room.
He smiled down at her then brushed a kiss on her nose. “Your papa is a tiger shifter and strong enough to carry you
anywhere you want to go.”
Before she could come up with an argument, he stepped back, allowing her to see him from head to toe once again. And oh,
what a sight that was. She swore his muscles had muscles as he went to the linen closet and came back with several towels. He
quickly dried her off and then swiped at the water slowly sliding down his own body.
His cock remained long and thick as he lifted her bridal style and carried her to the bed.
Setting her on the bed, he knelt before her. “Are you sure you want to be my mate? There will be no leaving once we mate.
No divorce, no separation, no walking away. We will be together forever. If we have an argument, we work it out. If you’re
naughty, your papa will spank you and set you back on the right path.”
Shaw nodded and felt her smile growing as he confirmed once more that she was onboard with becoming his mate. “I think
that sounds like a wonderful deal. But you won’t cheat or play with other Littles, will you?”
“Absolutely not. Just like you won’t play with other Daddies. While all the Daddies at Bratburg look out for all the Littles,
once we are mated, we only discipline our Littles, unless it’s a group transgression and all the Littles are punished together.”
“Sounds fair to me.” Shaw nodded, then giggled as she fell back and began to wiggle across the mattress when Marshall
surged to his feet and leapt onto the bed to crouch over her.
“I’ll try to be gentle, but my tiger has been clawing at me to claim you since the first moment we saw you,” he said, leaning
down and brushing his lips over one nipple and then the other.
At the same time, he dropped the lower half of his body until his cock brushed over her mound. He then shifted and rubbed
the length of it through her parted lips and over her clit, sending shivers of need through her with each touch.
She panted and rubbed her hands up and down his sides, trying without words to encourage him to fuck her, to claim her as
his mate. It was another endless minute before he shifted down, kissing the center of her body to her belly button and then
further until hot breath wafted over her clit, setting her entire body to trembling with need.
A hot tongue then stroked from the top of her slit down over her clit and further until it reached the skin between her pussy
and her back hole. Then he reversed directions and lapped his way back up again.
“Papa, please!” Bailey cried out when he began to trace circles around her clit with the tip of his tongue.
He stopped just long enough to ask, “Please what, waif?” before he returned to torturing her.
Did he really want her to ask for his cock? To beg him to fuck her and claim her as his mate?
“Nothing else happens until you ask for it.”
Taking a deep breath, he tried not to scream her demand as she whispered, “Papa, please fuck me. Please make me your
mate.”
Marshall kissed her mound before crawling up and fitting his cock to her wide open and wet opening. “It would be my
pleasure.”
She cried out when he surged forward until he was fully embedded in her body. He was so big, filling her past comfortable
capacity. He froze and stared into her face, looking hesitant as her body slowly relaxed around him. It felt so right to have him
buried deep in her, but she knew there was more to be experienced.
“Move, Papa. Fuck me. Claim me,” she panted.
He looked almost pained as he slowly eased back until only the head remained in her before reversing course and filling
her at a much slower, gentler pace. He kept the pace slow and easy, filling her time and time again.
She could see the effort to remain in control was costing him, and that was the last thing she wanted. She wanted to see his
wild side.
“Papa, please,” she pleaded as she wrapped her legs around his hips and lifted her lower body in an effort to speed things
along.
“I am in charge, and don’t want to hurt you,” he said as a drop of sweat fell from his forehead to hers.
“But you’re going too slow,” she whined. “I need rough and hard, not sweet and gentle.”
Her words seemed to strip away the last of his control. Suddenly he was moving harder, faster, surging in and out like a
piston. Her orgasm was gathering, ready to explode out of her like a tsunami roaring toward land.
She saw the animal swirling in his eyes when he leaned in and asked, “Shaw Tucker, do you take me as your mate, to be
bonded body, soul, heart, and mind to me from now until the end of our lives on this plane of existence?”

MARSHALL THOUGHT his heart was going to explode out of his chest as Shaw nodded in response to the traditional mating
question. “Words, little waif. You need to say the words.”
It was a few seconds of eternity before she gasped, “Yes, Marshall, I take you as my mate.”
At the same time, she turned her head to the right, exposing the left side of her neck and shoulder. His tiger took over and he
drove his canines through her skin, biting her deep as she screamed and came.
Her pussy clenched around him in waves, driving him the last few millimeters to his own orgasm. He roared as his cock
jerked and pulsed. At the same instant his seed filled her, her blood crossed his tongue and their mating bond locked into place.
She sighed when he finally pulled his teeth from her skin and licked the bite closed. It healed almost instantly, leaving
behind a scar that would tell every shifter who saw it that she belonged to him.
He held himself deep in her, not wanting to leave, even if the mating was completed. It felt right to be buried deep in his
mate’s body. His cock slowly deflated, and he finally pulled back and shifted to lie next to his beautiful mate. Gathering her
close to brush a kiss on her forehead, he was not surprised to see she was sleeping.
Easing back, he left the bed and retrieved the wet washcloth from the bath. After cleaning them both up, he tossed it back
into the bathroom. He then gently lifted her and pulled the covers back before laying her down again. After crawling in beside
her, he pulled the covers up over both of them.
Rolling to his side, he pulled her back to cuddle against him before allowing himself to relax and fall asleep, completely
relaxed for the first time since Shaw had arrived in Bratburg.
 CHAPTER NINE

“M r. Chef, can we talk to you please?”

Shaw looked up from the bread dough she was kneading to make hoagie rolls for lunch. Four women she
recognized as being resident Littles stood in the doorway to the dining room, their hands linked.
It had been a week since she and Marshall had mated, and her life had shifted from fear-filled to one filled with bliss. With
her taking over making the pastries and breads, they were able to spend less time in the kitchen, and more time wandering the
woods together, or at the cabin exploring each other’s wants, needs, and desires.
Marshall stood across the large kitchen island at his own work area. He was chopping up some of the vegetables they had
picked from the garden earlier that morning. They go into a big pot of hearty venison stew for the men with baked chicken
nuggets and rice for the women for dinner.
Laying down his big chopping knife, Marshall wiped his hands on his apron as he strolled toward the four women. “What
can I do for you ladies, this fine morning?” he asked with a smile.
As if plugged into the same circuit, the four women blinked and then their eyes went wide. “Chef, you’re smiling,” one
said, sounding amazed.
“Am I?”
Four heads bobbed up and down.
“Hmmm, guess I’ll have to stop that. Now, tell me what I can do for you before I break out my big spanking spoon?”
Shaw tried to fight back a smile when the four women looked at her before returning their attention to her Papa.
“Um, well, we were wondering if Shaw could come out and play with us this morning?” the one she thought was called
Talia asked. It seemed to be she was the spokeswoman of the group.
“Please, Mr. Chef? If she’s going to live here, shouldn’t she get to know us?” one of the other girls said.
Finishing kneading the dough, she turned it out on a wooden board and covered it with a cheesecloth. She would need to
return in two hours to form the rolls and get them in the oven, but the pudding she had prepared for lunch was chilling in the
refrigerator. It just needed to be dished up and dressed up with a dollop of whipped cream. The pies she’d made for dinner had
just come out of the oven and were cooling on the counter. She had planned to spend the afternoon making breakfast pastries for
breakfast. There was enough cinnamon bread left from that morning’s breakfast to use the next morning to make French toast.
She was learning to make breads and pastries that could be multifunctional in the meals.
When she finished and turned on the timer to ring in two hours, she turned her attention back to the drama going on across
the room, only to find five sets of eyes staring at her.
“What do you say, waif? Want to get to know these troublemakers?” Marshall asked with a grin that only she could see.
She nodded, hoping he would allow her to leave the kitchen without him for the first time since her arrival at the institute.
“Yes, please, Papa. The dough needs to rise for two hours before I can form the rolls.”
“We can help roll the rolls when it’s time,” Talia offered, as if that could be an incentive.
“I don’t think so,” Marshall said as he turned around. Whatever expression he looked at them with had the four take two
steps backward until they were well out of the kitchen. “But, yes, Shaw can go with you. Don’t go into the woods, and she
needs to be back here in an hour and forty-five minutes.”
“Yes, sir,” the girls answered in unison.
Shaw moved to the sink to quickly wash her hands. Once they were clean, she took off her apron and hung it on a hook near
the back door. Crossing the kitchen, she stopped to brush a kiss on her papa’s cheek.
“Thank you, Papa,” she whispered.
“No shenanigans or you’ll feel my spoon,” he said with a serious expression, which had her swallowing hard before she
nodded in response.
When she turned to join the others, he gave her a sharp smack on her ass, causing her to jump and squeak in surprise. But
she heard him chuckle as he returned to his workspace and continued making stew.
Once the doors swung closed behind her, she slowed as she approached the women she hoped to become friends with. “So,
what are we going to do?”

THE BUZZER GOING off at Shaw’s workstation startled Marshall into throwing a handful of sliced salami over his shoulder.
After picking up the meat, he stalked across the kitchen to turn off the timer.
Shaw was late. She should have been back fifteen minutes before. Well, as promised, he would be introducing her ass to
his wooden spoon. Once she returned.
He moved to the sink to rinse off the salmi as he decided whether he should be worried or not, and what his next move
should be. Should he call the other Daddies and ask if they’d seen the girls? Or call Kodiak and send the security team out to
search for them?
Before he could do either, the back door slammed open, and a flustered Shaw scurried into the room.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she panted as she grabbed her apron and pulled it over her head before hurrying toward
him.
He didn’t say a word as he stepped back and allowed her to wash her hands. She did not seem to notice his silence as she
quickly washed and dried her hands before going to her workspace.
“We were playing hide and seek, and I lost track of the time, and then I couldn’t find anyone to tell them that I was leaving,
but I’m here and the rolls will be done just a few minutes late!” Her words came out in one long, rushed sentence, without a
single pause for breath.
Marshall waited until she stopped speaking and looked at him. He kept his expression neutral but stern as he said, “Come
to my office once the rolls are in the oven.”
Without another word, he grabbed his big wooden spoon and stalked to his office. It would not take long for her to shape
two dozen rolls – pinching off bits of dough to turn some into turtles and teddy bears - before popping them into the oven. He
needed to get control of his emotions before she did so her punishment would be given with a cool, rational head and hand.
While he waited, he pulled out a blank menu form for the next week, and the folder of menus for weeks’ past so he could
begin planning ahead.
Pulling for earlier menus, he wondered if he shouldn’t standardize a two or three schedule of menus and just rotate weeks
instead of trying to come up with something new and different at least two nights a week.
“Chef?”
“Papa,” he corrected as he waved his mate into his office.
“Excuse me?”
“Until we finish with your punishment, I’m Papa. When we walk back into the kitchen and get back to work, I’ll be Chef
again.”
“Yes, Papa.”
“Good girl. Now take down your pants and panties and lay over my desk,” he ordered as he rolled his chair back from the
desk.
“Why?”
“Because you, my sweet waif mate, are about to get a spanking with my wooden spoon. How many minutes late were you?”
 He remained seated as she thought over his words. He gave her the time she needed to process. He was surprised when she
did not argue with him about the spanking. Instead, she sighed as her shoulders slumped with acceptance.
In the next moment, she pushed her lightweight cotton pants and the bright red panties she wore underneath to her knees. As
she bent forward and rested the upper half of her body across his desk she whispered, “I don’t know, Papa.”
“Well, I know. You were eighteen minutes late. Your punishment, therefore, will be eighteen spanks with my spoon.
Hopefully, this will keep you from losing track of the time and worrying your Papa.”
Shaw sucked a breath and tensed in fear, but did not bolt. Her expression as she looked over her shoulder at him nearly had
Marshall tossing the wooden spoon away and cuddling her instead.
But she needed him to stand firm and follow through with her punishment. She needed to know and trust that when Papa
said something, he would always follow through.
“Arms out in front of you. Do not reach back or I’ll have to start all over again. You can use your safe word anytime you
need it.”
“Yes, Papa. I understand.”
“Do you have anything else to say before we begin?”
“I’m sorry for worrying you, Papa.”
Instead of responding, Marshall stepped to the side, laid his hand on her lower back, and brought his wooden spoon down
on the center of her left ass cheek. He paused a moment before following with one on the same spot on the right one. He took a
few seconds to admire the red ovals before adding two more, one on each cheek.
For this spanking, he did not demand she count the smacks. He was impressed when it took four strokes to start her dancing,
and six smacks to bring her to tears. She began to babble apologies and promises to never be late again by number twelve, and
by the time he counted eighteen, her entire ass was bright red, and she was sobbing.
Tossing the spoon on his desk, he pulled her up and turned her around to lean against him as she cried.
“Shh, little waif. It’s all over. You took your punishment like the good girl I know you are. I’m so proud of you.”
Wrapping both arms around her, he shuffled them across the small room to the second chair in his office. Sitting down, he
arranged her on his lap so her flaming red ass hung over one side. She continued to cry for several minutes, and his shirt was
soaked when her tears subsided. Finally, she lay limply against his chest.
Grabbing some tissues from a box on his desk, he wiped her face clean of tears before helping her blow her nose.
“How are you feeling, sweetheart?”
“My butt hurts,” she whined before taking a breath and relaxing back against his chest. “I don’t like your spoon very much.
But I am sorry I was bad.”
“Your butt is supposed to hurt. It was a punishment.” He helped her stand and pull her pants and panties back up. “But it’s
over now and your slate is clean. You were never bad, waif. You were naughty for being late, but you are always my good girl.
Now, we’d better go check on your rolls and get back to work.”
“Yes, Chef,” Shaw said with a contented sigh.
 CHAPTER TEN

“C hef,She
we need to go shopping. In the capital,” Shaw stated as she stepped into his office a few days later.
appreciated the safety she felt at Bratburg. She was growing to love Marshall more every day, though she had yet
to voice that bit of information to him. The problem was she missed visiting the bakery supply store in the capital where
she found inspiration and new ideas and toys to create with almost every visit.
She also wanted to buy flour and sugar blended specifically for fine breads and pastries instead of making do with the
generic supplies Marshall kept in stock. It was also her wish to spend time with her Papa away from the kitchen where they
spent almost all day every day.
As his employee in this space, she did not feel comfortable pranking or snuggling with him whenever she wanted. Not in
the kitchen.
Marshall looked up from the cookbook he was studying with a raised eyebrow. “Want to check the attitude before you say
that again?”
His expression immediately had Shaw cowering as her Little side surged forward.
“Sorry, Papa,” she immediately apologized.
It took her a moment to reword her demand into a question that might, possibly, get an affirmative response from her gruff
tiger shifter.
“Oh, sweet tiger, Daddy, mate of mine, would it be at all possible for us to leave the kitchen, and the institute, and spend a
day in the city? We could go shopping for baking supplies and maybe an extra uniform or two for your sweet and loveable
pastry chef. You could relax and not have to worry about feeding everyone for one day.”
Marshall pushed his chair back from his desk before patting his lap. With a grin, she bounced around the desk and climbed
into his lap, straddling his thighs so they sat face to face.
“Yes, sweet mate of mine, I think a day in the city is entirely doable. After graduation next week, how about we take
several days off and do some serious shopping, for both the kitchen as well as your Little? I’m thinking we could turn that
unused bedroom into a playroom. And, yes, you do need more clothes. Both for work and for your Little. And toys. And a
woobie. And Gio needs some friends to keep him company while we’re working. I have been remiss as your Papa.”
Shaw was overwhelmed by the excitement she heard in his voice. She thought Marshall would nix any thought of leaving
his precious kitchen for a single day, and here he was talking about being away for several days, and going shopping,
something he seemed to prefer doing online, and only when he absolutely had to.
 “You’ve been a perfect Papa,” she assured him as she leaned closer. “You took me into your home, let me work at a job I
love, made sure I take care of myself. I love you, Papa of mine.”
Marshall blinked before a smile grew on his face, changing it from handsome to gorgeous. “I love you, too, my sweet mate.
More than you will ever know.”
When he slid a hand behind her neck, she relaxed into his hold, knowing that whatever he did to control her movements
would be better than anything she initiated. It always was. She focused on breathing as he matched their lips in a kiss that
quickly heated up, causing Shaw’s body to burn with need as shivers of excitement raced through her.
They were both panting by the time he broke the kiss.
“Need you, Daddy,” Shaw whispered as she wiggled her hips, trying to rub her slit against the thick pole of his cock that
pressed against the front of his pants.
Instead of allowing her to get herself off against his cock, Marshall wrapped his hands around her hips and pulled them
back several inches, holding them still. Before she could take a breath to argue, he lifted her from his lap and set her on her
feet. He held her until she was steady on her feet. Then he turned her around and smacked her ass.
“Strip.”

MARSHALL SMILED as she looked at him with wide eyes. To give her incentive to do as he said, he stood and pushed his pants
and close-fitting boxers to his knees before sitting again. He could not help but chuckle when her gaze followed his every
move.
Wrapping one hand around his hard cock, he slowly stroked up and down the shaft. “Like what you see?”
“Uh huh.”
He glanced at the clock and saw that they had plenty of time before they needed to finish dinner preparations. The rainstorm
that had begun just after him helped him decide to play in his office instead of making the soggy trip to and from the cabin.
“Strip, waif,” he repeated. “Or would you rather have a spanking instead of an orgasm or two?”
“E … Everything?”
“Yes, waif, everything. I want total access to your beautiful body while you play cowgirl and ride Papa’s cock.”
She turned her head and looked over her shoulder at the door to the kitchen even as she toed off her sneakers.
“No one will disturb us. They wouldn’t dare if they know what’s good for them.”
“Yes, Papa.”
With that, Shaw gave him a strip show that would be haunting his wettest dreams for years to come. He took deep breaths,
gripping the arms of his chair until his nails dug grooves into the wood, and thought of baseball, taxes, anything that would
keep him from shooting off before he was fully buried in her sweet pussy. He was a fully grown man, yet his sweet mate had
him as horny as any teenage boy.
“Leave the socks on,” he said as she folded her clothes and laid them on the corner of his desk.
She looked from him to her neon pink socks that he’d found in the storeroom. “Really?”
“Don’t want your feet to get cold.”
She giggled as she stepped closer. “The rest of me is naked, but you’re worried about my feet getting cold. Papa, you’re
silly.”
“Take that back. I’ve never been silly in my life,” he said as he lifted her to sit on his lap once again.
“Maybe not, but I bet they never saw you try to dance,” she said before her giggles increased to full blown belly laughs.
Marshall chuckled, remembering the dare she had issued to dance along with her favorite movie musical several nights
earlier. Though his tiger side moved gracefully, his size as a human kept him from the smooth dance moves that the actors made
look so easy. He had never been much for dancing and ended up feeling like Frankenstein’s monster, all stiff and
uncoordinated.
Her sweet laughter made his embarrassment worthwhile. He would make a fool of himself every day if it meant hearing
that glorious sound.
“You’re right, waif,” he rumbled as he guided her hips higher so he could fit his cockhead into her entrance.
And then the laughter died away, replaced by harmonizing moans as she lowered herself down over his long, thick length.
Needing a moment to compose himself so he was able to hold on for more than a few strokes, he wrapped both hands
around her hips and held her still. As she waited, she curled forward and rested her forehead on his shoulder. Her panting
breaths were warm as they wafted over his chest.
“Ready?” he asked when his need had eased enough for him to not come in the next few seconds.
“Oh, yeah,” she said, lifting her head and smiling at him.
“Then ride me, waif.”
 He continued to hold her hips as she laid her hands on his shoulders and used them for leverage to help her slid up and
down his cock. He could see from the glazed look in her eyes, that she was close. But he was determined that she come before
he did, and he was also nearing his peak.
Sliding a hand between them, he slid one finger between her lower lips then held it steady. Her clit stroked up and down
his finger, and he watched her orgasm exploded through her body in three strokes.
Her pussy tightened around him like a vise as she came. On her next undulation, he roared as his balls tightened and his
cock pulsed with his own release.
She continued riding, as if her mind had stopped and her body was moving of its own volition. When the movements
became painful for his super sensitive cock, Marshall stopped her, then wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close to his
body.
The office door opening shocked him. Who dared enter his kitchen between meals?
“Chef, do you know … oh, excuse me.”
The door closed as quickly as it opened. He had just enough time to see it was one of the resident Littles.
“Well, shit,” he muttered as Shaw stiffened in his arms. “Next time we’ll definitely lock the door.”
He rubbed one palm up and down her back in what he hoped was a soothing motion. It took nearly a minute, but finally
Shaw lifted her head. He was shocked when she smiled at him. A soft, gentle smile that had his heart squeezing in response.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“You know we’ll be hearing about this forever,” he rumbled as he helped her climb from his lap.
Grabbing a cloth, he quickly cleaned them both up, then helped her dress again. While she put her sneakers on and tied
them, he stood and pulled himself together.
“Just so you know,” she said casually as she stood and headed for the door, “if you ever come in here and lock the door
with anyone else, I’ll cut off your thingie and feed it to you.”
He stared at her in disbelief for a moment. For a woman who had arrived battered and nearly broke, she had healed and
grown brutal.
“And if I ever catch you in here with another man, I’ll kill him and then spank you every night for a year.”
She blinked and nodded. “Fair enough.”
“You’d better go see what the Littles want before they dare enter the tiger’s domain again,” he said, swatting her ass as they
left his office.
“Yes, Chef,” she replied with a giggle before scurrying across the kitchen and out into the dining room.
 CHAPTER ELEVEN

haw frowned down at her phone as it turned on. She had turned it off before facing the Council weeks earlier and had not

S thought about turning it back on until yesterday. Marshall wanted her to have it with her when they went to the capital
that evening in case they got separated. He’d even loaded a tracker app so he could find her if she got lost. The battery
had been dead, so Jaxon had charged it for her. She did not expect to have any missed calls of texts since her ex had
driven off all her friends. There had been no one to share her excitement with about her new job, her new man, and her new
life.
As soon as it booted up, the phone began to go crazy beeping with text and voice messages. It went on so long that she
silenced the sound and watched the screen. The number of messages climbed and climbed. 243 texts and 102 voicemails.
Someone had been seriously trying to reach her.
But who? And why? There were several numbers, but she did not recognize any of them and wondered if she should even
bother listening to them. Probably some scam callers.
Don’t kid yourself, she scolded mentally. You know who it is.
Naturally, Marshall returned to the kitchen for another tray of food at just the right moment to catch her fearful shiver.
“Waif? You okay?”
They were setting up for the post-graduation reception. Once the party was over and they had cleaned up the kitchen,
Harrigan would be flying them into the capital in the helicopter with the few Council members who had been healthy enough to
make the trip to Bratburg for the graduation ceremony. A virus had been racing through the city, and half the Council members
were sick with it.
“I’m not sure,” she said, oddly unwilling to voice her fears aloud, as if saying it would make it true. “I turned my phone on
to make sure it still worked, and it blew up with voice and text messages. They’re all from the same five numbers, but I don’t
recognize any of them.”
Marshall put the tray back down and joined her. After taking her phone, he pulled up the last message and hit the speaker
function so they could listen to it together.
“I know you’re reading and listening to these messages, bitch. If you don’t meet me tomorrow at noon in the park near my
office with what you stole from me, I’ll be sending a couple of friends to get it back. And they won’t be nearly as nice as I
was.”
The message ended and Shaw stared warily up at Marshall who looked like he wanted to rip someone’s head off. She only
hoped it wasn’t hers.
“Rat bastard ex, I presume,” he said, awfully mildly for the look on his face.
She nodded.
“What’s he talking about?”
“I have no idea. When I left, I didn’t take anything of his. I even left him all the furnishings of the apartment. All I took was
my clothes, my phone and laptop, and Gio. When he attacked me the night before I came here, he broke into the room I was
living in and destroyed my clothes and laptop. He didn’t get Gio or my phone because they went with me everywhere. I don’t
understand. We’ve been separated for more than a year, and the divorce was finalized the day before he attacked me. What
could he possibly think I stole from him?”
Marshall pulled her into his chest and hugged her. She rested her head on his chest clung to him. Why wouldn’t the
nightmare that had been her marriage end?
“You won’t be facing him tomorrow. You won’t ever have to face him again,” Marshall said before dropping a kiss on the
top of her head. “From now on, your Papa will deal with this asshole who thinks he can upset you.”
“But …” she started, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to argue. But she also did not want Marshall to have to deal with
her ex-husband.
From the sound of his voice on the phone, she could tell something was wrong with Dan. Seriously wrong. While he had
always been unpredictable, from the sound of the phone message, it sounded like he’d moved over the top into cray-cray
banana pants crazy land. She wasn’t sure whether having Marshall meet with him was such a good idea. She also knew talking
him out of it would probably end up with her ass being lit on fire for defying him.
“I’ll go with you, Daddy,” she said as gently as she could. “I know you’ll keep me safe.”
While she would welcome his large physical presence to keep Dan from beating on her again as he had at their last
meeting, she needed to face him and finish whatever it was he thought was between them. She also knew that if she were not
there to call him on the lies, Dan would try to convince Marshall that she was a lying, cheating, whoring bitch who could not be
trusted when it was the other way around. He had been the one to lie, cheat and whore around for more than half their marriage.
Marshall studied her for a moment, before taking a deep breath. He did not look happy, but she hoped he would give in
when he saw how determined she was.
“We’ll discuss it later. For now, please finish setting up the buffet while I go have a word with Kodiak.”
“Yes, Chef.”
It wasn’t until later that she realized that Marshall had taken her phone with him.

MARSHALL WANTED to go to the capital at once so he could track down the asshole who threatened his mate and rip his head off
now. Though she seemed adamant about seeing her ex, he would do whatever needed to keep her away from the man.
Though they had not talked about her nightmares, he knew she woke up nearly every night. Instead of waking him, she
would snuggle close and lie still. The bruise-like marks under her eyes told him that she had spent a lot of sleepless nights over
the past few weeks. That was one of the reasons he rearranged the schedule so she could get as much baking done in the
morning as she could. He then put her down for a nap, either at the cabin, or in his office, as many afternoons as he could
manage.
The pilot was not hard to find. He was keeping an eye on the group of mates who had been tasked with providing a bit of
entertainment during the graduation ceremony. Though they had known about it for weeks, they had never been able to agree on
what to do during their time in the spotlight. Now, with the performance a few minutes away, they were panicking about what
song they should sing.
“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be in the kitchen stressing out over whether or not you have enough food prepared for the
reception?” Harrigan said as Marshall approached.
“I’ve got a favor to ask. Can you bring a couple of the guards into the city tomorrow morning? Shaw’s ex is demanding a
meeting at noon, and I have a feeling it might be an ambush.”
Kodiak and Sullivan joined them. “What’s going on? Why aren’t you in the kitchen?”
Marshall made a face as the men did a poor job of teasing him about his propensity for overthinking the graduation buffet.
After explaining what was going on, and playing several of the messages, Kodiak agreed that he and several of the other
shifters would join them in the capital well before the time Shaw was to meet with her ex. In the meantime, the head of security
would ask Jaxon to look into the man’s background to see if he could determine exactly what he wanted from Shaw.
“Thanks, guys,” Marshall said after they had come up with a tentative plan about keeping his mate safe.
“You’re family, Chef. You should know we protect our own. Especially when it comes to the mates,” Kodiak said before
wandering away again.
 Though he knew that to be true, he had always kept himself separate from the rest of Bratburg’s shifter population. For no
other reason than tigers were solitary creatures and his position in the kitchen had given him that solitude. Now mated,
Marshall realized he needed to spend more time with the other Bratburg Daddies so that Shaw could make friends with the
other Little mates.
“We’ll be leaving for the capital about three,” Harrigan said. “Does that give you enough time to get everything taken care
of?”
Marshall nodded. “Sailor offered to finish cleaning up anything we can’t get done.”
With that Marshall turned to leave. Though he knew Shaw could manage to put out the trays of finger foods and desserts
they had spent the last two days making, he was the chef and felt he needed to be there to make sure.
Just before three that afternoon, he helped Shaw climb into the back of the helicopter before following her onboard. The
kitchen was cleaned, the leftovers from the buffet had been divided up amongst the single shifters who did not cook, and the
dining hall was locked up and would remain that way for the next three days.
Settling on the seat beside his mate, Marshall fastened her safety belt before securing his own. While air travel was not his
favorite mode of transportation, it was faster and less of a hassle than borrowing someone’s truck and driving.
The two members of the Council who had flown out for the graduation climbed aboard last. After strapping in, they each
pulled out a tablet and spent the entire flight with their faces buried in the screen. The hour flight was bumpy, and Marshall
began to consider the wisdom of buying a truck of his own, so they didn’t have to fly back. The fact that he had not left the
institute in years was beside the matter.
“Papa,” Shaw whispered in his ear after they had been in the air only a few minutes.
“Yes, waif?”
“Can you reach that bag for me?” she whispered, pointing to the air sick bag in the clear plastic pocket on the wall beside
him.
For this flight, Harrigan had left the lights on, and the windows uncovered, so Marshall could see that his mate was pale
and looking ill. He retrieved the bag and flicked it open just in time for her to grab it from him and hold it to her mouth.
After she had finished throwing up her lunch, he took it from her and closed the top securely. Not having a place to put it, he
opened the window between the pilot’s area and the main cabin and set the bag on the floor between the seats. He then slid the
window closed again before turning his attention to Shaw.
“Feel better?”
She leaned heavily against him as she nodded. “I think so.”
“I certainly hope you’re not getting that stomach bug that’s been going around,” the woman commented without bothering to
look up from her tablet.
“I do, too,” Shaw replied dryly.
Marshall shifted in his seat and wrapped his arms around his mate. She closed her eyes and relaxed into his hold as she
dozed. By the time they landed, he was feeling a bit air sick himself, but was able to keep his stomach from turning inside out.
Since Shaw did not wake up on landing, he unbuckled them both before lifting her into his arms and carrying her out of the
helicopter. The Council members had disembarked as soon as Harrigan opened the door and had already disappeared down the
stairs leading from the roof into the building.
“She okay?” Harrigan asked as he carried the air sick bag to a trashcan across the roof.
“I think she will be. Too many sweets at the reception, I think. Thanks for letting us hitch a ride.”
“No problem. We’ll be at your hotel room about eight so we can discuss how you want to handle things.” Harrigan pulled
his duffel bag and Shaw’s backpack from the cargo compartment and helped Marshall get his arms through the straps while still
holding Shaw.
“I want to rip his head off and be done with him, but I suppose that’s the wrong approach to take,” Marshall said softly.
“I’d feel the same way, my friend. Maybe you should call him tonight and find out what it is he thinks Shaw has.”
Shaw shook her head and mumbled something he couldn’t understand.
“Shh, little one. It’s all good. Papa’s here.” Marshall murmured as he headed to the stairs leading down into the Council
building. He shifted her so he could carry her with one arm. Her head rested on his shoulder and her legs straddled his hip.
“Papa will make sure everything stays okay.”
“’Kay, Papa,” Shaw sighed as she relaxed fully back into sleep.
 CHAPTER TWELVE

“O kay,Shaw
waif, I’m afraid you have to wake up now. Come on, mate, open those beautiful eyes.”
opened her eyes, then blinked several times at the bright light that was shining in her face. Turning her head
into Marshall’s chest, she sighed and could feel sleep pulling her back down again.
“No, little one. No falling back to sleep. You need to wake up.”
“Why, Papa?” she asked, not thinking that they were anywhere other than the kitchen or their cabin. Why did she need to
wake up now? It was afternoon and she’d gotten used to taking a nap at this time of day.
“I need you to be awake and able to walk because I don’t think people will like seeing me carry a sleeping woman down
the street.”
His words, combined with the rumbling in her empty belly reminded Shaw that they had left home to come to the capital for
a few days. And then Dan’s phone call slammed into her brain, and she was wide awake.
Lifting her head from Marshall’s chest, she tilted it back and looked up at him. “I’m up. I’m up. Put me down, Papa.”
She looked around as he gently set her down on her feet. When her knees tried to buckle instead of holding her weight, he
wrapped an arm around her back and held her close. It took a few seconds before she was steady on her feet and able to step
back.
Shaw looked around and frowned when she realized she had been here before. The hall was two stories tall with marble
floors and white walls, looked familiar, but she couldn’t think how. “Where are we, Papa?”
“The lobby of the Council building. Harrigan landed on the roof. So many people approached and asked if you were sick or
injured as we came through the building that I knew I would have to wake you up before we went outside. I’m sorry I had to
ruin your nap,” he said brushing a kiss on her forehead.
“That’s okay. I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble just because you were being a good Papa.”
Marshall chuckled at her praise before holding his hand out. “Ready to go out and tackle the capital?”
Shaw did not hesitate and immediately laid her hand on his. “I’m not sure about tackling the capital, but I am ready to get
out of here.”
“Then let’s go,” he said, setting off for the double front doors.
It only took a minute to walk out of the building and join the throngs of city dwellers as they hurried down the sidewalks at
the end of their business day.
Shaw was thankful that Marshall had decided they would stay at a hotel just two blocks from the Council building. She
pressed closer into his body as people rushed by, brushing against her, and muttering about fools walking too slowly. Marshall
did not seem to have that problem as people gave him a wide berth, well, except for some scantily dressed women who
appeared out of nowhere and latched onto his other arm.
“Go away,” he growled as they made lewd offers that had Shaw blushing.
Then she realized that he was even less comfortable than she was but did not know how to get the women to leave him
alone.
“He said go away,” she said loudly as she looked around his body at the two women.
The one who did not have her arm wrapped around his turned and disappeared into the crowd. The other one tilted her
head, so she ended up looking down her nose at Shaw.
“Honey, I can give him things you’ve never even heard of, so fuck off and leave us alone.”
A glance up at Marshall told Shaw she’d better get rid of this woman before his temper flared and they attracted more
attention than the Bratburg Institute could handle. They’d come to a corner and had to stop so she released his arm and stepped
around in front of him, going nose to greasy nose with the scowling woman.
“This is my man, bitch,” Shaw said in a hard, albeit quiet tone. “And the only thing you can give him is a full rack of STDs,
so step the fuck off and take your daddy issues elsewhere before I throw your skank ass back in the gutter where you came
from. ”With that, she pulled the woman’s arm from around Marshall’s and inserted herself between them. When the other
woman didn’t retreat as fast as Shaw would have liked, she gave her a shove to the shoulder to get her going and then another.
Only Marshall grabbing the back of her shirt and pulling her back to his side kept Shaw from pushing her all the way down the
block.
“That’s enough, Shaw. You made your point and she’s gone,” Marshall said, his voice dropping an octave into the range
that was able to turn her on with just a few words.
Shaw looked over her shoulder as they started across the street but could not see the other woman. Turning back around,
she looped her arm around her man’s and leaned into him.
“I did good, didn’t I, Papa?” she asked softly as they reached the other side of the street.
“You sure did, waif. I can’t wait to get to our room and show my appreciation for your protection.”
Then another thought hit her. She leaned up and whispered, “You’re not going to spank me for being mean to that woman,
are you?”
Marshall looked down at her as he chuckled. “No, mate of mine, I am not going to punish you for defending your property.
Now if you had punched or kicked her, that would be a different story, but just talking and gently pushing her away only gets
you good girl rewards.”
“Yay!” Shaw said and began to skip the last half block to the hotel without a care as to what anyone else might think.

BY THE TIME they entered the lobby, Marshall was ready to turn around and go home. They only had to walk two blocks, but all
the people brushing against him and bumping into Shaw had his tiger snarling and pacing in his chest with anxiety. The memory
of the hooker pushing against him had his skin crawling. He could not help the pride at Shaw’s response. It proved more than
anything else that she was his life mate, and nothing would come between them.
As soon as they got to their room, he planned to jump in the shower to get the scent of that woman off of him. The fact that
Shaw would be with him, wet and slippery and oh so sexy, was just an added bonus and he would challenge the hot water to
see who could hold out the longest as he claimed his mate once again.
While he felt unusually nervous and on edge, Shaw seemed quite comfortable and energized by being in the city. Still
dealing with his wound-up tiger, he allowed Shaw to deal with the desk clerk and then the manager when it was discovered
that someone had lost their reservation. Shaw’s boldly stating that their reservation had been set up by the Council cut through
all the bullshit and in minutes they were being escorted to a room. Marshall wasn’t sure whether he should spank her for lying
or be thankful that Jaxon and the head of the Council were now mated since Jaxon was the one who had made the reservation.
Expecting a tiny room with a view of the dumpsters behind the building, Marshall was stunned when the bellman opened
the door and they walked into their room for the next three nights. Their “room” was a two-room suite with its own balcony
only three stories above the street.
The bellman assured them that the room was soundproof, and they would not hear the elevator when it dinged every time it
stopped on their floor even though it was cattycorner across the hall from their door. Marshall was not so sure but did not
argue. At the moment, all he wanted was the man to leave so he could get his mate naked and in the shower.
Finally, Shaw handed him some money and he left. As soon as the door closed, she pulled something out of her pocket and
added it to the knob before flipping the internal lock. When she turned and found him watching her, she shrugged as she slowly
crossed to stand before him.
 “Emory gave it to me and said it is an additional safety measure to keep people from getting into the room while we’re
sleeping. Apparently, that happens a lot in the city, or so she said.”
Marshall smiled. “Being mated to the head of security, I’m sure she would know. Now, we both need a shower and then
we’ll call down for room service.”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea, Papa,” Shaw said as she reached for his belt to undress him. “Can I suck on your …
uh, penis while we’re in the shower?”
Marshall smiled down at her before stepping back and quickly stripping off his own clothes. “Only if you can get naked and
in the shower in the next minute.”
Clicking the timer on his watch, he headed to the bathroom that was as big as his entire cabin. He was not normally
impressed by such a show of opulence, but to have a shower big enough to hold a dinner party in as well as a hot tub that
would hold him and Shaw with room to spare, was just the thing to make his already hard cock twitch.
 CHAPTER THIRTEEN

haw stepped into the walk-in shower just as Marshall’s watched beeped. She giggled as he looked at her then snapped

S his fingers as if regretting that he did not get to spank her.

one.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Papa,” she purred as she stepped in close and rubbed her body against his already wet

“I don’t think you are,” he said before smacking one ass cheek and then the other before wrapping his arms around her and
pulling her under the spray of four different showerheads.
“Papa! That hurt.”
She tried to frown at him, but that might earn her even more, and the last thing she wanted was to start their working
vacation with a hot ass.
“My poor, sweet mate. Let me kiss it and make it better." Turning them again, he pushed her up against the cool shower
wall before kneeling behind her. “Keep your head and shoulders against the wall, but step back and spread your legs.”
He held her hips as she moved into position. Once he was happy with her stance, he started just below her ear and kissed
his way down her neck and then the center of her back to the top of her ass. By the time he stopped kissing her body and began
to massage her ass cheeks she was panting and trying hard to tell him to skip the foreplay and just fuck her. Her inner Little
argued that making demands of her mate would only end up with her ass burning and her pussy wanting, so instead of begging
for more, she thrust her fists against the wall and rolled her lips over her teeth to keep the words locked inside.
Between the warm water running down her body, and his fingers running down her outer thighs and then up her inner thighs,
it was growing more and more difficult to remain silent.
Two fingers sliding into her pussy and his lips kissing her ass cheeks and then down between them shredded the last bits of
control she had.
“Papa, please!” she cried softly as he shifted to slide his body between her legs. He ended up sitting between her and the
wall.
“Please, what, waif?” he asked, his voice already dropping into the dark range that meant he was aroused.
In the next moment he licked from her pussy up between her lower lips to the top of her slit, his tongue almost velvety
against her wet skin. Shaw had to lock her knees to keep from dropping down on top of him as her entire body weakened and
began to shake. Her pussy felt so empty and needy that she found herself begging.”
“Please fuck me. I need your cock in me. Please. Please. Please.”
 She continued begging as his fingers slid in and out and he licked back and forth from clit to asshole and back again.
“Come first for me, waif. Come all over my fingers and tongue. Come now, waif.” He growled the words then took her
knotted up clit between his lips and sucked hard.
Lightning shot from her clit out to the rest of her body. It only took seconds for her orgasm to swamp her completely. She
screamed and convulsed as she came, fighting hard to remain on her feet. Her brain shut down as her orgasm went on and on
and on.
When her mind finally returned and she could track things again, she found herself sitting with her legs wrapped around
Marshall’s back. His cock filled her completely, and his arms held her snuggled to his chest. It felt perfect.
“Squeeze your pussy around me, waif,” he murmured as she dropped kisses across the top of one shoulder and then the
other. “It’s not going to take much, but I don’t want to move you from right here.”
Shaw contracted her muscles around him, and his moan of approval had her smiling even as she leaned her head on his
shoulder. She did it again, tightening the muscles and then fully relaxing.
“More, mate.” His voice was so deep as he stroked a hand up and down her back.
Though the motion was meant to be soothing, it only aroused her to the point where she wanted to move up and down his
cock and get them both off. But his embrace held her still, so all she could to was contract and flex the muscles of her pussy.
She shifted her hips back and forth, hoping to get them both off quicker, but frozen when a hard hand slapped against her hip.
“No.”
She shivered at his dark tone, but went back to massaging his cock, pulsing as fast as she could around him.
It took less than half a minute to break his iron will. He grabbed her hips and began to lift and lower her on his long, thick
length, still not letting her move as she wanted.
She felt his cock swell further as he moved her faster and then slammed her down on his cock several times. His back
arched and he roared out his release before bending his head forward and biting the same spot he had when he mated her. At
the same instant, additional heat poured into her body, filling her with his essence as he took hers into his body.

THOUGH HE HAD DOUBTED tantric sex would get either of them off, it sure as hell drove them to the edge. He could not wait to
try again, only next time dry and warm in a bed instead of the shower.
When he could feel his body again, Marshall stood them both up and then quickly washed them.
“For the next three days,” he said as he turned off the multiple showerheads and reached for the luxurious towels that
waited just outside the shower room, “I want you to be Little as much as possible, okay?”
He smiled down at her as she thought about his words. Her question shocked him. “Does that mean no more sexy times
while we’re in the city?”
“Oh, no, not at all. Unless you don’t want to shift back and forth once you go Little. It’s all up to you, babygirl. Papa will
handle whatever you have to throw at him.”
She took another few seconds before she nodded. “Okay, Papa. Right now, my tummy’s hungry. Can we get supper now,
please?”
Since his own stomach was poking at him, he nodded and kissed her lips. “Let’s get dressed and I’ll take care of your hair.
Do you want room service, or would you rather go out and eat at a restaurant?”
Shaw bounced on her toes as she tapped her fingertips together in a silent clapping movement. “Room service, please,
Papa.”
“Such a polite mate I have. Room service, it is.” Marshall smiled in approval. He’d be quite happy not to have to go out
into the crowded streets again tonight, though there was a store in the next block he wanted them to visit tonight.
After drying them both off, he pulled on a pair of jeans and dressed Shaw in a tiger onesie he had ordered online for her. It
had become her favorite off-duty outfit and he had to admit she was so cute wearing it.
Pulling out the room service menu, they sat together and decided instead of a meal, they would order the entire appetizer
section of the menu. It was a half hour before the food arrived. By that time, he finished unpacking their bags into the dresser
and Shaw used the remote to find a cartoon movie she wanted to watch and settled in front of it.
After welcoming the food delivery and signing the bill to the room with a good tip for the server, Marshall carried the tray
to the coffee table in front of the sofa where Shaw lounged, whispering to her stuffed tiger.
Taking the remote, he turned down the volume and then waved at the tray. “What would you like to eat first?”
“Mac and cheese bites,” Shaw pointed as she giggled.
Marshall nodded and handed her one, then rearranged the food to empty one of the plates. He then piled several of each of
the food choices on it before placing the plate on the coffee table in front of her.
“Why don’t you sit on the floor? That way you won’t drop or spill anything.”
 Shaw did not argue, which was surprising. She just slipped off the couch to sit cross-legged on the floor. “This carpet is so
soft,” she commented as she rubbed her hand over the fibers.
“Eat your dinner, waif. Then, if there’s time, we’re going on an adventure,” Marshall said as he set the tray with the
remaining food on his lap.
“A ‘venture, Papa?”
“An adventure. But only if you eat all your dinner.”
Shaw looked at the plate and then looked over her shoulder at him. “I don’t know if I can eat everything. If I eat most of it
can, we still go on a ‘venture?”
“Eat as much as you can and we’ll see,” Marshall said as he handed her a fork and a napkin.
 CHAPTER FOURTEEN

haw stopped on the sidewalk and stared up at the door Marshall was pulling her towards. While she had not been sure

S what sort of an adventure he was taking her on, she certainly did not think their first stop would be a bright and colorful
toy store.
“Papa?”
“Come on, waif. Let’s go shopping.”
Instead of allowing herself to be pulled along, she pulled him out of the flow of traffic. “But … but this isn’t the supply
store.”
“Yes, it is. It’s a supply store for Little girls. I thought we could buy all the things your Little needs. We’ll take a few toys
and things back to the hotel with us, and the rest will be shipped home.”
Shaw blinked, stunned at the excitement she heard in her Papa’s voice. “You want to go shopping? In a toy store?”
Marshall smiled as he leaned down so he could whisper in her ear. “I’ll be happy doing anything with my mate. Now come
inside before I pull your pants down and spank you right here on the street.”
Since that was the last thing Shaw wanted, she hurried toward the doors. “Come on, let’s go shopping. Can I buy presents
for the others?”
“After we shop for you, waif. And if we don’t get it done today, we can do it tomorrow afternoon.”
The reminder of what was going on tomorrow morning sent a shiver through Shaw, but she pushed the worries about Dan
and what he wanted away. For right now, this evening, she had no worries except what gifts she would buy for her new friends
back at Bratburg.
They wandered every aisle of the store, and Shaw was surprised by how many items she saw that she wanted. After the
third aisle, she kept the hand that was not holding her Papa’s in her pocket because every time she touched something, it ended
up in the cart Papa was pushing.
They only made it through half the store when the lights flickered before a voice announced the store closing in ten minutes.
Shaw looked at their buggy and then at Papa. “I think we bought too much.”
“No, mate. We didn’t buy nearly enough. I want you to pick out three things you’d like to play with while we’re here in the
city.”
Shaw looked over everything before pulling out the thick coloring book and box of crayons. Hugging them to her chest, she
said, “Two is enough. I don’t need those other things.”
 Marshall frowned at her, then pulled out the cloth doll with yarn hair she’d squealed over and handed it to her as well. It
was just like the one she’d had as a child, and she could not believe the old standard was still available.
“That way Gio won’t be lonely when we leave him alone in the hotel room,” he explained.
Shaw nodded and used her other arm to hold the doll. “Okay, Papa. That makes sense. But I always take Gio with me.
Especially tomorrow when we go to meet RBX.”
Marshall smiled down at her before brushing a kiss on her nose. “Okay, let’s go check out and headed back to the hotel
before they lock us in.”
They were the last people to check out and the manager was happy to ship the rest of their purchases. After Marshall filled
out the paperwork necessary to make that happen, the clerk quickly checked out the things Shaw held.
“Thank you, Papa,” Shaw said as they left the store hand in hand.
“You are very welcome, waif. How about stopping for a hot chocolate on the way home? Then it will be bedtime for my
girl.”

MARSHALL PLANNED to return to the toy store before they left town. They had only seen half the store, and even then his mate
had kept her Little locked down, though he was not sure exactly why. They would have to talk about that before they returned.
She needed to know that while he wasn’t billionaire rich, he had more than enough money in the bank to pay for nearly anything
she wanted.
Back at the hotel, he guided her to the bar and ordered two virgin hot chocolates before leading her to an empty corner of
the bar. After the bartender delivered their drinks and a plate of sugar cookies, he took Shaw’s hand and looked deep into her
eyes.
“I’m sorry, my mate.”
Shaw blinked and stared at him as if he had begun speaking Romulan. “Why are you sorry, Papa?”
“I screwed up and broke the first rule of being a good Daddy.”
“What rule is that?”
“That communication between mates, as well as Daddies and Littles is the key to a successful relationship. Not only do I
need to encourage you need to talk to me about everything, but I need to ask questions and get your opinions about things.”
By the time he finished explaining, Shaw was frowning at him, looking even more confused. “You do ask questions. And I
do tell you everything. There are some things you don’t always tell me, but surprises are okay, too. At least to me. I like
surprises. Well, good ones. A surprise dentist visit, or something like that not so much, but I’ve found that with you most
surprises are good ones.”
She made it sound like everything between them was good, but he felt like something was still off. “You didn’t seem happy
at the toy store. I figured you would fill up two or three shopping carts and you barely filled up half of one. Didn’t you like that
store? We can try to fine another if you don’t want to go back to that one.”
Shaw took a tiny sip of her chocolate before nodding with a smile. “It’s cool enough. I don’t understand why they make hot
drinks soooooo hot. You have to wait like an hour for it to be cool enough to drink, but then it gets cold before you finish
drinking it.”
“That’s why they make it so hot. That way you’re not drinking a cold drink halfway through. Waif, the store?”
Shaw shrugged and dropped her gaze to the table. “I liked the store good enough, but I didn’t know how many toys you
wanted me to choose. I’ve lived my whole adult life without any toys. I just played with Gio and watched movies and was
happy. The ones we got tonight will keep me in Little space for a long time.”
“No, they won’t. Tomorrow, after we deal with RBX, we’re going back and you’re going to get everything your heart
wants. I’ve talked to Lonergan about turning the spare pantry we don’t use into a playroom for you and your friends to use
during the day, and we still have to furnish your playroom at the cabin as well. Or are toys not your Little’s desire? Would you
rather get a horse to ride or a jungle gym to play on or a video game setup or something else the toy store didn’t carry?”
That suggestion earned him a shocked blinky stare. “Papa, we don’t have time for a horse, or to play videogames for hours
on end. A jungle gym and playground area for the institute would be nice. Maybe we could build one for all the Littles to use?”
“That sounds like a very generous idea, my mate. We’ll have to talk to Lonergan and the others when we get back. I bet all
the Littles would like to help plan it out.”
“Ooo, that sounds like fun,” Shaw said as she nibbled on a cookie. “And though I loved visiting the toy store, my mind
wasn’t on buying toys. My mind was more focused on what my shopping list for the restaurant supply store when we go
shopping there.”
Marshall nodded and made a mental note to rearrange the store visits so they would visit the restaurant supply store before
returning to the toy store.
“All right, waif. Finish your hot chocolate and we’ll head upstairs for a snuggle and a movie before bedtime.”
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
minut syleilyynsä… Ei!

Heittäydyin tuota rintaa vasten ja kätkin kasvoni sen karvaiseen

peittoon. Cosma syleili minua ja silitteli tukkaani.

»Mikä sinua vaivaa, Jeremias? Mitä olen tehnyt sinulle?»

»Cosma, sinä olet liian onnellinen, ja onnessasi jätät minut yksin».

Hän ei vastannut mitään, mutta minä tunsin, kuinka hänen

käsivartensa vaipuivat alas lyijyn raskaina, ja hänen sydämensä löi
voimakkaasti kuin vasara ja säännöllisesti kuin kello. Sitten hän meni
ja istuutui turkkilaiseen tapaan, kehoitti minua tekemään samoin,
täytti piippunsa, sytytti sen, ja puhui suunnilleen näin:

»Poikani, Cosman onni on sellainen, että se jättää kaikki muut

yksin ja osattomiksi. Se on kuin myrskytuuli, joka riistää paljaiksi
lehteen puhkeavat puut, repii irti kukkien herkkinä värisevät
terälehdet, pysähdyttää joen, joka lailattelee onnellisena uomassaan,
tappaa eläimet. Se nielee kaiken… Kaiken, mikä elää. Sitten se
puskee päänsä murskaksi kallionkylkeen, joka nousee sen
vapauden tielle, tai syöksyy maan uumeniin, jonka pohjavesi
kuvastelee taivaan äärettömyyttä. Mutta se on myöskin
hyväätekeväinen, sillä missä se kulkee, siellä syntyy elämä uudella
voimalla. Minä olen samanlainen. Ehkä hiukan kiittämättömämpi,
ehkä vähemmän oikeudenmukainen. Vain vähäpätöisyyksiin
päästämme muita osallisiksi, elämme ne yhdessä muiden kanssa.
Niinpian kuin ihminen on onnellinen, on hän yksin; yksin hän on
myöskin, ollessaan liian onneton. Pieneen ojaan hyppää kuka
tahansa kanssasi, mutta kukaan ei seuraa sinua syvyyksiin.
Täysipainoinen onnihan on kuin kurimus: eikö haaveesi äsken niellyt
sinua niin kokonaan, että unohdit vaaran ja annoit minun yllättää
itsesi? Kukahan vapautta rakastavista tovereistamme seuraisi sinua
niin pitkälle? Kuka seurasi minua muuanna päivänä arkontti
Samurakisin rotanloukkuun, kun minussa heräsi halu vapauttaa sinut
siinä paikassa? Elias! Elias seurasi minua. Mutta Elias on
suojelusenkelini, jota en koskaan kuuntele. Ja hän seuraa minua
aina tahtomattaankin, isäni, tuo pukki, oli päähänsä, että hänen Se
johtunee siitä, että luomispäivänämme saanut oli hedelmöitettävä
haareminsa vain hulluuden siemenellä, ja tuloksena olin minä,
Cosma, tai rakkauden hulluus, Elias, tai järjen hulluus, sisaremme
Kira, tai keimailun hulluus ja lopuksi nuorin veljemme, joka oli
täydellisesti hullu ja hirtti itsensä, kun ei luultavastikaan tietänyt, mitä
tehdä elämällään. Lisäksi hän rakasti niin mielettömästi
pähkinäkaakkuja, että ulvoi ilosta, kun ne otettiin uunista, ja
luulenpa, että hänellä hirttäytyessäänkin oli suu täynnä kaakkua. On
osattava kuolla hulluutensa vuoksi».

*****

Näin sanoessaan Cosma katsahti telttaansa päin ja hänen

silmänsä saivat hurjan loisteen: täysikuu oli kohonnut kolme
peitsenvarren mittaa taivaanrannasta ja tarjosi hehkuvan kiekkonsa
Floritchican nähtäväksi, joka seisoi teltan ovella, käsivarret ristissä
rinnalla ja katseli sitä liikkumattomana. Hänellä oli hartioillaan
valkoinen silkkiviitta, jolle valtoimet mustat hiukset olivat valahtaneet
kuin terva.

Tämän kauniin näyn edessä Cosma heittäytyi kasvoilleen maahan

kuin rukoileva muhamettilainen, ja jäi siihen pitkäksi aikaa. Sitten
hän nousi hitaasti seisomaan kuin uupunut, ja kohotti taivasta kohti
paljaat, jäntereiset käsivartensa. Silloin Floritchica näytti minusta
vähemmän vaikuttavalta, ja kaikki muu ympärilläni mitättömältä ja
kutistuneelta; ja Elias, joka juuri tuli haukotellen ulos teltastaan, oli
silmissäni vain köyhään ghebaan puettu miespoloinen.

Kaikki katsoivat häneen ja luulen heidän minun tavallani

ajatelleen, että Cosma olisi voinut murskata meidät vain
heittäytymällä ylitsemme. Mutta me emme pelänneet häntä.

Hän meni ja otti Floritchicaa vyötäröltä. Tämä antoi kantaa itseään

kuin höyhentä. Hänen kirjokenkänsä tuskin koskettivat pehmeää
ruohomattoa. Näin he kulkivat hetken matkaa yhdessä ja heidän
käynnissään oli sama rytmi. Mutta kun katseli tuota hentoa
linnanrouvaa rotevan salametsästäjän rinnalla, tuli ajatelleeksi
metsänneitoa, jonka satyyri on lumonnut.

Kääntäen kasvonsa kuuhun päin ja painaen molemmin käsin

rintaansa Cosma huusi ilmoille onnensa yltäkylläisyyden. Hän puhui,
ja hänen äänensä oli kuin kimalaisen, jota kuullessaan hevoset
nostavat päätään:

»Miksi tämä sydän tahtoo riistäytyä pois paikoiltaan? Miksi siitä

tuntuu niin ahtaalta kuoressaan? Miksi sitä tukehduttaa?»

Hän tarttui rakastettunsa käteen, tuoden ilmi pelkonsa:

»Floritchica! Sinä olet kuilu, johon mies hukuttaa halunsa!

Tietänetkö, mitä uskollisuus on? Lähdemme pian matkaan
kuutamossa ja aamunkoitteessa saavumme leiriin. Kolmekymmentä
miestä odottaa meitä siellä kärsimättömästi. He ovat kaikki
lainsuojattomia, joille kuolemanpelko on tuntematon. He tuntevat
vain yhden lain: halunsa tyydyttämisen, mikä on elämän korkein
päämäärä. Ja he nousevat henkensä uhalla jokaista lakia vastaan,
joka estää heitä saavuttamasta tätä päämäärää. Siksi pidän heitä
sankareina. Vielä enemmän he ovat sankareita naisen silmissä,
jonka he lumoavat katseillaan, noilla kiimaisen eläimen katseilla,
suipoksi kierretyillä viiksillään, jotka kutittavat jo kaukaa, aaltoilevalla
parrallaan, joka koskettaa hyväillen hipiää».

Ja Cosma kysyi mahdotonta:

»Floritchica, pieni kukkanen, joka poikako sinut poiminee?

»Varo antamasta poimia itseäsi… En ole näiden miesten herra,

olen heidän Jumalansa, mutta kun on kysymyksessä nainen, ei ole
Jumalaa, joka kestää! Ja minä tahdon olla Cosma ja kuolla
Cosmana. Floritchica, vanno, että olet minulle uskollinen!»

Floritchica puhkesi voitokkaaseen nauruun, joka helisi kuin

kulkunen talvisäällä, ja kuu vastasi tähän nauruun, verhoten
kasvonsa hopeaharsoon, joka kirkasti suon:

»Cosma, Cosma, au bras fort,

Guerroyant sur neuf frontières».

[Cosma, Cosma, vahva mies,

hän sotii yhdeksällä rajalla.]

»Vaaditko salamaa iskemään kattilassa? Vaaditko tammea

kasvamaan sängyn alla? Vaaditko, että maan on vastustettava
auraa, joka kääntää sitä, vaaditko, että sen on kieltäydyttävä
ottamasta vastaan hedelmöittävää siementä? Ha, ha, ha!…»

Levittäen laajahihaiset käsivartensa kuin lentoon lähtevä joutsen

hän pakeni telttaa kohti ja katosi sinne, sillävälin kuin Cosma astui
kalpeana ja raskain askelin suoraan Eliaan luo ja sanoi matalalla
äänellä:
 »Elias, mitä sanot naisen vastauksesta?»

Elias kurotti kaulaansa ja sanoi:

»Sanon vain, että nainen on oikeassa ja että hänen vastauksensa

on oikeuden- ja ansionmukainen».

Cosma karjui raivoissaan:

»Piru periköön sinut järkinesi ja oikeuksinesi! Sitä en tahtonut

tietää!»

»Mitä sitten?» kysyi Elias tyynesti.

Toinen kumartui kuiskaamaan hänen korvaansa, raivoaan hilliten:

»Elias, etkö luule, että tuo nainen on kuusikon tshobanitza, jonka

kohtasimme seitsemäntoista vuotta sitten?»

»Saattaapa olla, Cosma… Saattaapa olla… Mutta varma en siitä

ole… Ja mitäpä hyödyttäisi tietääkään sitä? Jos se olisikin kuusikon
tshobanitza, niin muistahan, kuinka ylpeä olit tuona yönä! Ja jos hän
on mielestäsi parempi kuin seitsemäntoista vuotta sitten, niin on
naisen laita sama kuin hevosen: kuta enemmän se juoksee, sitä
paremmaksi se käy».

Cosma vaipui mietteisiin, unohtaen piippunsa suupieleen.

Ja kuun ehtiessä korkeimmilleen olimme jättäneet viimeisen

pysähdyspaikan ja raivasimme itsellemme tietä kaislikon ja
saraheinän läpi, joiden niljaiset varret kostuttivat meitä nesteellään.
Ei puhuttu sanaakaan.

***
 Kukaan ei puhunut, totta tosiaan! Ja kuitenkin olisi pitänyt puhua.
Puhuako? Ei, vaan ulvoa, mellastaa, reuhtoa, raivota. Tällä hetkellä
olisi tarvittu maanjäristystä, joka olisi reväissyt maahan ammottavia
halkeamia; tai kalkkunanmunan kokoisia rakeita, jotka olisivat
piesseet päämme kuhmuille; tai epätasaista taistelua Poteran
kanssa, josta olisimme paenneet vertavuotavina; tai salamaa; tai
ruttoa; tai mitä koettelemusta tahansa, vain päästäksemme tästä
äänettömyydestä, jonka kestäessä Cosma hautoi mielessään
menetystään.

Minä en tosin aavistanut mitään. Elias ehkä tiesi jotakin, samoin

Floritchica. Mutta se selvisi meille niinpian kuin pimeys häipyi ja
sarastava päivä heitti valkoisen käärinliinansa yli kasvojemme ja
maan.

Olimme nyt aukealla kentällä ja ajoimme mutkittelevaa tietä

rinnatusten ja käymäjalkaa. Floritchica, jota Cosma piteli sylissään,
värisi viluisena puoliunissaan, niihin hiljainen keinunta oli hänet
tuudittanut; ja Cosma, joka näytti unohtaneen maailman, katseli
synkkänä ja julmin silmin aarrettaan. Hänen verestävät silmänsä
pysähtyivät vuoroin katselemaan rauhallisia, neitseellisiä kasvoja
kaunispiirteisine nenineen, vuoroin siron vatsan ääriviivoja, jotka
kuvastuivat viitan alta, aaltoillen hevosen käynnin mukaan.

Ja yhtäkkiä Cosma pysähdyttää hevosensa ja päästää käsistään

kallisarvoisen kantamuksensa. Floritchica vaipuu kuin tyyny
rakastajansa polville. Hänen silmänsä hymyilevät selkoselällään.
Hiukset hulmahtavat maata kohti. Olkapäät, rinnat ja lanteet ovat
pelkkää kiusoittavaa sopusointua.

Cosma katselee tätä kauneuden yltäkylläisyyttä ja huudahtaa:

 »Mitä? Ovatko kaikki aurat kyntäneet tätä maata, kaikki siemenet
hedelmöittäneet sitä? Ja täytyykö minun, Cosman, joka tahdon pitää
kaiken tämän yksin, täytyykö minun kuulla tätä, saamattani lyödä
kädet poikki niiltä, jotka ovat loukanneet sitä, mikä on minun?»

Floritchica risti käsivarret päänsä taa ja sanoi suvaitsevan

ylenkatseellisesti:

»Aivan niin, Cosma… Sinun täytyy kuulla se ja enemmänkin:

kukaan ei huoli viljelemättömästä maasta, et edes sinäkään».

Ja hän luikahti maahan notkeana kuin käärme. Elias ja minä

teimme samoin.

*****

Cosma ei hievahtanutkaan, mutta veri kihahti hänelle päähän, sillä

Floritchican vastaus sattui paikalleen. Tällaista oli Cosman
mahdoton sietää päästämättä vihaa valloilleen, ja kun naisen hartiat
ovat liian heikot kestämään tällaista purkautumista, suuttui hän
itseensä. Ennenkuin arvasimmekaan, mistä oli kysymys, oli hän jo
laskeutunut satulasta maahan, paneutunut pitkäkseen hevosensa
alle, tarttunut lujin kourin sen kengitettyyn kavioon ja pannut sen
rintansa päälle. Samassa hän potkaisi hevosta vatsaan, ja kun eläin
ei ollut tottunut tällaiseen raakuuteen, hypähti se hirnahtaen
isäntänsä ruumiin yli.

Juoksimme kaikki kolme pelästyneinä hänen avukseen. Cosman

kasvot olivat kalpeat kuin vaha ja veri virtasi suusta ja nenästä.
Mutta hänen silmänsä olivat lempeät ja tyynet. Kuullessaan
Floritchican parkaisun hän näytti tahtovan vastata jotakin, mutta uusi
verensyöksy esti sen. Hänen silmäluomensa painuivat hiljaa kiinni ja
hän kadotti tajuntansa.

Luulimme hänen kuolleen ja kannoimme hänet kentälle.

Huomatessamme, että hän vielä hengitti, pesimme veren hänen
kasvoiltaan ja virvoittelimme hänet henkiin.

Floritchica, vieläkin kalpeana, otti hänen päänsä syliinsä, pyyhki

hiukset hänen kasvoiltaan, suuteli häntä hellästi ja sanoi:

»Ystäväni… ystäväni… Ole hyvä! Älä ole epäoikeudenmukainen…

Äläkä pyydä elämältä sellaista, jota se ei voi antaa meille».

Cosma mumisi kuin kuoleva:

»Vähät siitä, mikä on oikeaa, mikä väärää, tai mitä elämä antaa tai
jättää antamatta. Rintani, siinä koko minun elämäni. Mitä se tahtoo,
sitä tahdon minäkin, vaikkapa sitten tämän elämän hinnalla. Ja nyt
tahdon lyödä poikki kädet, jotka ovat tahranneet minun omaani… Ja
minä lyön ne poikki!»

Näistä viime sanoista palasi veri jälleen hänen kalpeille

kasvoilleen. Aurinko, joka juuri kohosi taivaanrannan yli, heitti niille
samassa kellertävän sädekimpun, niin että ne loistivat kuin kiilloitettu
kupari. Cosma avasi silmänsä selkoselälleen ja katseli tuota
häikäisevää kiekon neljännestä, joka kohosi kohoamistaan suoraan
hänen edessään taivaan mittaamattomassa avaruudessa.
Ponnistaen viimeiset voimansa hän silloin kohotti yläruumistaan,
ruiskautti tähteä kohti verisen syljen ja huusi raivokkaasti:

»Siinä on sinulle… ja minulle… ja maailmalle… ja…»

 Hän pysähtyi äkkiä, suu sulkeutui kuin hän olisi kuunnellut jotakin
mutta esiinsyöksyvä veri pakoitti sen avautumaan, ja hurme valui
hänen rinnalleen.

Cosma vaipui takaisin Floritchican polville, silmät selkoselällään, ja

noista silmistä puhui kiihkeä viha elämää kohtaan. Kukaan ei
rohjennut rientää hänen avukseen.

Elias tarttui käsivarteeni ja kuljetti minut mukanaan kentälle päin.

***

»Vietkö minut pois näkemästä hänen kuolemaansa?» kysyin

Eliaalta, kun olimme hiukan loitonneet. Hän seurasi katsein suuren
haaskalinnun majesteeteista lentoa ja sanoi sitten:

»En luule hänen kuolevan tuollaisesta haavasta; Cosmassa on

seitsemän miehen henki. Mutta luulen, että hän kuolee huomenna,
viikon kuluttua, kuukauden kuluttua, sillä hänellä on pääkallossaan
yksi ruuvi liikaa, ja se on hänelle kuolemaksi… Se on sairaus joka ei
anna armoa. Kerron sinulle, millainen se on. — Jokaisessa
ihmissydämessä uinuu jäytävä mato. Velton ihmisen sydämessä se
ei herää koskaan tai vain ani harvoin, ja silloinkin vain
haukotellakseen ja nukahtaakseen jälleen. Tällainen ihminen
kompastuu kymmenen kertaa päivässä samaan piikiveen,
suutahtaa, sadattelee eikä heitä kiveä pois; jos hänen ovensa
narisee saranoillaan, tyytyy hän sanomaan: kirottu ovi! — mutta ei
voitele sitä öljyllä. Tämän ihmisen Jumala loi, — en tiedä mitä
varten, viikon lopulla — kun hänen aivonsa jo olivat väsyneet
monista ihmetöistä, jotka hän oli tehnyt ennen ihmistä. Mutta piru,
joka oli nämä kuusi päivää vain maleksinut ja arvostellut Luojan töitä,
käytti hyväkseen sunnuntaita ja lisäsi ihmisen pääkalloon yhden
liikaruuvin, pirullisen ruuvin, joka panee ihmisen raivoamaan,
niinpian kuin jokin seikka on vastoin hänen mieltään. On kyllä totta,
että normaali-ihminen oli yön kuluessa ehtinyt kansoittaa maan
nahjuksilla, ja siksi tapaakin niin harvoin sisukkaita ihmisiä. Kuitenkin
kaikitenkin ilmestyi maailmaan tarpeeksi sellaisiakin, joilla oli
kallossaan liikaruuvi, häiritsemään jumalaista rauhaa, jopa siinä
määrin, että pyhä Pietari tuli eräänä päivänä valittamaan Luojalle,
sanoen: 'Herra, minun paimeneni ei ole samanlainen kuin sinun
paimenesi, tuo tyyni, nöyrä, hyvä poika. Minun paimeneni on
yltiöpää: jos karitsa eksyy laumasta, lähtee hän kaikkine koirineen
etsimään sitä ja jättää lauman alttiiksi susille; jos juusto on hiukan
härskiintynyttä, heittää hän sen vasten naamaani; ja jos kirppu
puraisee häntä yöllä, heittelehtii hän sinne tänne ja häiritsee
minunkin untani. Herra, olen kovin pahoillani!» Luoja otti keppinsä ja
lähti heti asiakkaan mukaan. Kun he saapuivat laitumelle, tapasivat
he Kaikkivaltiaan paimenen vetämässä suu auki sikeää unta, mutta
hän heräsi heti ja tervehti kunnioittavasti. Herra antoi hänelle
siunauksensa. Pyhän Pietarin paimen istui kukkulalla ja soitti niin
haltioissaan huilua, että Jumalan itsensäkin täytyi jäädä
kuuntelemaan. Viimein hän kosketti poikaa olkapäähän ja sanoi:
»Sanohan, ystäväni, miksi laiminlyöt koko lauman paimentamisen
yhden eksyneen karitsan vuoksi?' — 'Siksi, että eksynyt karitsa on
aina yksi niistä, joita eniten rakastan', vastasi paimen kaikkea muuta
kuin kunnioittavasti, mikä seikka ei lainkaan miellyttänyt Jumalaa.
'Poikani, olet palkkalainen. Palkkalaisen ei sovi rakastaa eikä vihata!'
Pojan viha kuohahti: 'Ja mikä minulle sitten sopii? Enkö olekaan
ihminen?' Nähdessään, että poika oli pikavihainen, Herra vaivutti
hänet sikeään uneen, tutki hänen kalloaan ja huudahti: Tämä on
pirun tekoa! Hänellä on yksi ruuvi liikaa pääkallossaan'. Ja hän otti
sen pois. Herättyään unesta paimen oli tyyni, nöyrä, kelpo poika.
Hän pyysi vierailta anteeksi, että oli sattunut nukahtamaan, kumarsi
kunnioittavasti, ei ajatellutkaan enää huiluaan eikä rakastanut eikä
vihannut enempää, kuin mikä on soveliasta palkkalaiselle. Cosman
liikaruuvi on koko hänen elämänsä. Jos olisin Jumala, en ottaisi sitä
pois. Mutta hän kuolee… Hänen sydäntään jäytävä mato, jonka tuo
nainen on herättänyt, tuottaa hänelle kuoleman. Jos hän olisi
pelastettavissa vain sillä, että lyötäisiin poikki nuo korkea-arvoiset
kädet, jotka ovat hyväilleet hänen omaansa, olisin valmis
auttamaan…»

Elias piti loput ajatukset omana tietonaan.

En tiennyt, mitä ajatella… Tiesin vain, että Cosma oli hyvin sairas,
kuolemansairas. Tämä tuotti minulle suurta surua.

*****

Olimme Cernavodan ja Calarasin välisellä alueella, tuskin

peninkulman päässä metsästä, jossa urheilla miehillämme oli
leirinsä. He odottivat kärsimättömästi päälliköitään, jotka olivat niin
rohkeasti lähteneet vapauttamaan minua. He eivät tietäneet,
elimmekö vai olimmeko kuolleet; ja ilman Cosman vihanpurkausta,
joka naulitsi meidät tälle avoimelle tasangolle, olisimme jo nyt olleet
ystävien leirissä.

Miten meille nyt kävisi? Seutu oli vaarallinen: ei kaukanakaan

meistä kulki valtatie sen poikki, ja saatoimme millä hetkellä tahansa
tulla yllätetyiksi, sillä Cernavodan lautta, joka välitti liikettä Tonavan
yli, oli vain puolentoista peninkulman päässä.

Pelko ahdisti mieltäni… Katsoin Eliaaseen: hän oli vaipunut

mietteisiin. Hänen tavallisesti niin tyyni otsansa oli vetäytynyt syviin
vakoihin. Hänen askeleensa, jotka noudattivat omaa tahtiaan,
näyttivät nekin mietiskelevän. Nilkkaan asti ulottuvassa ghebassaan
hän näytti vakavalta kuin hurskas munkki. Ei lintuakaan
äänettömässä avaruudessa… Lakeus hiljainen kuin hautausmaa…
Vain jokunen harva ohdake, joka huojutteli surkeasti päätään, ja
siellä täällä muutama hiekkakukkula, joka oli valvonut kuin vartia
paikoillaan aina aikojen alusta, toi vaihtelua tähän kuivaan
erämaahan.

Elias suuntasi äänettömän kulkunsa muuatta kukkulaa kohti, jonka

laelle nousimme. Täältä Elias tähysteli Cosmaa ja Floritchicaa, joita
tuskin saattoi eroittaa heidän yhä istuessaan maassa, veti pyssyn
viittansa alta ja sanoi:

»Saamme pian nähdä, kuinka sairas Cosma on».

Ja samassa hän laukaisi aseensa. Seuraavana hetkenä oli Cosma

jaloillaan, kasvot meihin päin, käsivarret kohotettuina taivasta kohti,
mikä merkitsi: Uhkaako vaara?

Elias tarttui pyssynpiippuun ja piirsi renkaita päänsä yläpuolella,

mikä vuorostaan merkitsi: Ei ole syytä levottomuuteen! Sitten rypyt
katosivat hänen otsaltaan, ja hän huudahti:

»Haa! Kaikki hyvin, niinpian kuin jalat kannattavat häntä!»

Laskeuduimme tasangolle. Ja osoittaen lampaanjälkiä hän sanoi

minulle:

»Jossakin lähistöllä pitäisi olla lammaslaumoja. Lähdemme

etsimään juottovuonaa».
 Ja aivan oikein. Tasangon laidassa olevalla laajalla niityllä, jota
tulvavedet kostuttivat ja jossa kasvoi siellä täällä pajupensaikkoa,
kävi suunnaton lammaslauma laitumella. Kun tulimme lähemmäs,
hyökkäsi joukko kiukkuisia koiria meitä kohti. Kuullessaan paimenen
huudon ne palasivat tottelevaisina hänen jalkoihinsa ja paneutuivat
pitkäkseen, hakaten hännällään maata. Mies oli kooltaan kääpiö.
Hän oli tummaverinen, hyvin parrakas, caciula painettuna syvään yli
silmäkulmien, yllään pitkä sarica, joka peitti hänet kokonaan, ja näin
hän seisoi ja odotti meitä, nojaten leukaansa tukevaan keppiin. Oli
mahdoton sanoa, oliko hän aseistettu vai ei, mutta kasvojen lujat
piirteet, jotka puhuivat monista kokemuksista, hänen olemuksensa
tyyneys, ja ennenkaikkea nuo pienet, mustat silmät, joiden katse jo
etäältä lävisti meidät, vaikutti jokaiseen, joka antaa arvoa
inhimilliselle kauneudelle. Vain heittiö voi lyödä sellaista miestä, ja
hänen kaatumisensa vapisuttaa koko maata.

Elias pysähtyi kymmenen askeleen päähän hänestä ja sanoi:

»Hyvää päivää, toivotamme sinulle hyvänsuopina miehinä».

»Tervetultuanne, matkamiehet, ja olkoot ajatuksenne yhtä

hyvänsuovat kuin sananne».

»Ensimäinen ajatuksemme on tämä: oletko lauman omistaja vai

palkollinen?»

»Olen oma herrani. Tämä lauma takaa minulle vapaan elämän».

»Jos niin on, niin sanohan, montako sfanzia on meidän

maksettava karitsasta, jolla neljä tervettä miestä voi tyydyttää
nälkänsä?»
 »Ystäväni, lahjaa ei korvata sfanzeilla. Valitkaa. Koska
kysymyksessä on vain nälän tyydyttäminen, niin ottakaa
huonovillainen lammas. Ja nauttikaa se terveydeksenne, ja kiittäkää
minua ajatuksissanne».

Aurinko oli kulkenut enemmän kuin neljänneksen matkastaan

taivaankannella, kun jälleen olimme Cosman ja Floritchican luona.
Eliaalla oli karitsa kainalossaan. He olivat pystyttäneet teltan ja
lepäsivät äänettöminä sen suojassa. Hevoset, jotka oli vapautettu
kantamuksistaan, pureskelivat ruohoa. Hyytyneisiin verilätäkköihin
oli kerääntynyt vihreitä kärpäsiä. Elias heitti multaa niiden peitoksi ja
poistui sitten kauas pensaikkoon, mistä palasi vasta pitkän ajan
kuluttua takaisin, mukanaan paistettu, tuhkan ja tulen nokeama
lammas.

Leipää ei meillä enää ollut. Viiniä tuskin puoli ploscaa. Elias levitti
vaatekappaleen maahan ja laski sen päälle karitsan. Floritchica, joka
nähtävästi oli nälissään, tuli ja istuutui maahan sen ääreen. Cosma
teki samoin, mutta hänen käyntinsä oli laimeaa, koneellista ja hänen
ajatuksensa harhailivat kaukana: hän ei ollut joukossamme. Elias
koetti saattaa häntä järkiinsä.

Kääntäen häneen päin pitkänomaiset kasvonsa, joilla kuvastui

apostolinen usko, hän sanoi:

»Ystäväni, alistukaamme lakeihin, joita ihmiskäsi ei ole

kirjoittanut…»

Cosma huudahti:

»Minä en alistu!»
 »Ja hyväksykäämme ne, sillä ne ovat järkähtämättömät…»

»En hyväksy mitään!»

Elias oli neuvoton. Täynnä suvaitsevaisuutta ei Elias enää

tahtonut kiihdyttää Cosman mieltä, vaan ryhtyi ensimäisenä
syömään. Mutta kun me jo olimme lopettaneet aterian, oli Cosma
tuskin syönyt kolmea suupalaa ja juonut kolmea kulausta. Hän tuli
itse siitä ensimäisenä levottomaksi.

»Veli Elias, tämä on minun kuolinvuoteni… Ei koskaan ennen ole

viha vienyt minulta ruokahalua. Veli Elias, mitä ajattelet tästä?»

»Bade [= kunnioittava nimitys vanhemmalle henkilölle] Cosma,

luulen, että todellakin pian kuolet…»

Cosma kävi vuorostaan neuvottomaksi, mutta sanoi viimein:

»Niin, Elias, minä kuolen pian… Ja Floritchica on syynä

kuolemaani».

Nainen väitti vastaan:

»Mutta minähän rakastan sinua, Cosma! Olen aina rakastanut

sinua».

Cosma toisteli:

»Olet aina rakastanut minua… Ja tulet luokseni syyllisenä!…»

»Cosma, mitä sinä olet tehnyt niistä, jotka ovat tulleet luoksesi
viattomina?»
 »Minä olen unohtanut heidät seuraavana päivänä, mutta sehän ei
ole minun, vaan Jumalan asia. Hänen asiansa on selittää miehen
väärinkäytökset, sillä hän se on antanut miehelle väkevät vietit ja
halun sammuttaa janonsa sekoittamattomista lähteistä».

Eliaan silmät rävähtivät selälleen ja hän pisti väliin:

»Totta, Cosma!… Jos Jumala on oikeudenmukainen, tuottaa tämä

juttu hänelle päänvaivaa. Olet oikeassa hulluuksinesi. Ja jos voimme
riistää sinut kuoleman kidasta kostamalla puolestasi, on käsivarteni
heti valmis auttamaan sinua. Sano, kenelle kannat vihaa?»

»Jumalalle!… Koko maailmalle!»

»Mutta emmehän voi tapella Jumalaa eikä maailmaa vastaan. Ja

jos
Floritchica on pahan alkujuuri, ei se ole hänen syynsä».

»En ole tehnyt Cosmalle mitään pahaa», vaikeroi Floritchica.

»Muille kylläkin, kuten arkontti Samurakisille, jonka te poltitte
elävänä…»

»Sitä parempi!…» sähähti Cosma hampaittensa välistä.

»… tai Silistrian pashalle…»

»Silistrian pashalle? Onko sekin koira saastuttanut sinut? Ja

tässäkö minä syön lammasta, sensijaan, että menisin ja söisin
pashalta korvat?»

Näin sanottuaan Cosma hypähti seisoalleen, ja se, mitä nyt

tapahtui, oli silmissäni kuin valon leimahdus.
 Me olimme kaikki seisoallamme. Cosma astui kalpeana luokseni,
laski kätensä olalleni ja sanoi:

»Jeremias, minun mieleni on apea, olen loukkaantunut ja

suruissani kuin pelaaja, joka on menettänyt koko omaisuutensa ja
huomaa olevansa putipuhdas. Oletko jalomielinen? Tahdotko Eliaan
tavoin tarjota nuoren käsivartesi avuksi halpamaiseen tekoon? Se on
halpamainen, mutta se tuottaa minulle ehkä huojennusta: tahdon
kaataa sulattaa lyijyä Silistrian pashan kitaan. Tule avukseni! Olet
minun poikani, saat kiittää minua elämästäsi ja vapaudestasi».

Silloin Floritchica hypähti keskellemme kuin tiikeri ja työnsi meidät

kiivaasti toisistamme.

»Valhetta!» huusi hän, silmät pullistuen ulos päästä. »Valhetta!

Minua hän saa kiittää elämästään ja vapaudestaan. Hän on
kuvitelman tulos, ja nytkö hänen pitäisi uhrata elämänsä haaveelle:
olen hänen äitinsä!»

Peräydyimme kaikki kolme kuin saman luodin lävistäminä,

Floritchican seisoessa suorana kuin oikeuden jumalatar.

Cosma pyyhkäisi kädellä kasvojaan ja tiedusteli kiihkeästi:

»Kuka olet, sinä arvoituksellinen nainen? Ehkäpä olet kuusikon

pieni tshobanitza?… Sinäkö ilmestyit metsästä lapsi sylissä, panit
sen tielleni ja katosit jälleen?»

Floritchica pani kätensä ristiin rinnan yli ja vastasi kyynelöivällä

äänellä, joka viilsi sydäntäni ja toi mieleeni hänen yöllisen käyntinsä
surkeassa colibassani arkontin luona:
 »Olen se, joka halusi täyttä onnea, ja jolta silmät huikenivat hänen
tahtoessaan uneksia ja katsella avoimin silmin aurinkoa. Sinä,
Cosma, olit aurinkoni yhden yöllisen hetken, ja sinä opetit minut
ymmärtämään elämää. Senjälkeen olen matkannut maita, noussut
Golgatalleni ja palaan luoksesi puhtaampana kuin koskaan ennen:
en enää tahdo koko onnea vain itselleni. Voi, sinä et ole kulkenut
samaa tietä kuin minä, ja siksi et tunne sääliä. Nouset vääryyttä
vastaan vain silloin, kun se kohdistuu sinuun itseesi, ja kun on
kyseessä mielitekojesi tyydyttäminen, hävität vaikka koko maailman.
Mutta osoitan sinulle, että yhä vielä olet epäjumalani: luulet
halpamaisen koston voivan vapauttaa sydämesi vihasta, joka sitä
jäytää, ja tahdot häpeällisesti tahrata vereen kätesi, joiden tulisi
katkoa kahleita. Lisäksi tahdot tehdä Jeremiaasta alhaisen
murhamiehen, kun hänen sydämensä tulisi hehkua vain jaloille
tunteille. Hyvä, minä tarjoudun saattamaan teidät Silistrian pashan
luo, mutta vain sillä ehdolla, että minua totellaan. Vannokaa
tottelevaisuutta!»

»Tottelevaisuuttako?» huudahti Cosma, antaen päänsä painua.

»Olkoon menneeksi, Floritchica! Minä tottelen sinua, minä, joka
tähän saakka olen totellut vain omaa tahtoani; mutta tämä todistaa
jälleen, että olen saavuttanut kuolinvuoteni. Cosma, joka tottelee, ei
enää ole Cosma!»

***

Naisen hameenlaskoksiin lienee jäänyt jotakin siitä

salaperäisyydestä, joka vallitsi maailmaa luotaessa.

Tämä ajatus tuli mieleeni katsellessani Cosman vierellä

ratsastavaa Floritchicaa, seuratessani Eliaan kanssa heidän
kintereillään. Hän istui kahareisin. Hänen leveä hameensa salli
hänen istua vaivatta miehen satulassa, mutta silkkisukkaiset sääret
näkyivät polviin saakka, ja nuo sääret olisivat voineet panna pyörälle
vaikkapa elämään kyllästyneen erakon pään. Hänen ryhdikäs,
mukavaan, hihattomaan liiviin puettu vartalonsa keinahteli varmana
ja joustavana hevosen astunnan mukaan, pään käännähdellessä
lakkaamatta puoleen ja toiseen ja katseiden tähystäessä rannatonta
lakeutta. Ja tietäessäni, että olimme vannoneet hänelle kuuliaisuutta,
kysyin itseltäni, missä asusti tahto, joka sai meidät alistumaan;
tuossa hennossa päässäkö vai salaperäisessä hameessa, joka peitti
kokonaan ratsun selän?…

Hänen vierellään ratsastavan Cosman raskas ruho, jonka käsissä

ei enää ollut johto, näytti mielestäni elottomalta. Mitä Eliaaseen
tulee, ei hän ollut kadottanut eikä voittanut mitään. Mutta oli kummaa
todeta, että tässä naisessa yht'äkkiä ilmeni Cosman tahto ja Eliaan
järki.

Ja hän sanoi olevansa äitini! Ja Cosma sanoi olevansa isäni! Ja

yhdessä he nyt olivat matkalla selvittämään asiaa, jota en oikein
ymmärtänyt, vaatimaan Silistrian pashaa tilille siitä, että tämä oli
rakastanut Floritchicaa ennenkuin Cosma tai Cosman jälkeen.
Kummin sitten oli! Mikä oli pashan rikos? Ja missä Cosman oikeus?
Ja miksi piti miestemme jäädä levottomina odottamaan meitä?

Mitä sekavia mietteitä!

Tunsin kuitenkin oloni kevyemmäksi, kun tiesin Cosman

alistuneen, sillä hän oli alkanut herättää minussa pelkoa. Eliaskin
näytti tyytyväiseltä. Retkemme tarkoitus ei sittenkään mahtanut olla
perin murheellinen, ja minua huvitti ajatus, että saisin tehdä
tuttavuutta oikean pashan kanssa, koettuani, millainen oli arkontti.
 *****

Pyrittäessä Silistriaan, oli kuljettava lautalla Tonavan yli. Floritchica

suuntasi kulkumme valtamaantielle, vaikka olisimmekin voineet
seurata pientä paikallistietä, ja kun Cosma huomautti tien
vaarallisuudesta, vastasi hameellinen päällikkömme nokkelasti:

»On tosin viisasta ja varovaista valita syrjäisempi tie, mutta

tällaisella aukealla tasangolla, missä saattaa nähdä peninkulman
päästä, kuinka metsärotta harjaa viiksiään, olisi sivutien valitseminen
yhtä viisasta kuin strutsin piilottautuminen, ja vetäisimme siten vain
puoleemme ratsupoliisien huomion. Parempi on oikaista suoraan
valtatielle, missä kulkevat ne, jotka uskovat olevansa tahrattomia, ja
luottaa 'onnen rahtuseen', joka joskus tekee ihmeitä. Tunnetteko
tuon tarinan?»

Emme tunteneet sitä.

»Kylläpä näkee, ettette ole käyneet koulua», sanoi hän. »Kerron

sen teille. Kaksi miestä taivalsi yhdessä maantietä. Toisella oli'tonni
viisautta', toisella 'gramma onnea'. Kun kesäinen yö yllätti heidät
kahden kylän välillä, päättivät he nukkua taivasalla. Se, jolla oli
'gramma onnea', veti muitta mutkitta ghebansa pään yli ja heittäytyi
maata keskelle tietä. Se, jolla oli 'tonni viisautta', arveli: Jos rattaat
kulkevat tästä, ajavat ne ylitseni. Ja hän paneutui maata heinikkoon
tien viereen. Myöhään yöllä ajoivat vaunut tietä pitkin. Kun hevoset
näkivät tiellä mustan pilkun, pelästyivät ne ja hypähtivät syrjään,
polkien jalkoihinsa pellolla makaajan. 'Parempi on hiukkanen hyvää
onnea kuin rattaiden täysi viisautta', kuuluu romanialainen
sananparsi. Hyvään onneen on meidänkin luotettava lautalle
pyrkiessämme. Jos se kieltäytyy auttamasta meitä, voimme aina
turvautua pyssyjemme lyijyyn ja ratsujemme koipiin».