Taken - Lane L.V. (best english novels for beginners .TXT) 📗

The fur rises at the back of their necks as they curl back muzzle over teeth and growl to ward us off their prize.

“Rrrrr!” Caden suddenly cries. He has his sword in hand as he jumps from the saddle and charges the wolves.

I do not know what the fuck this madness is, but I follow after him, fearing he will get himself killed.

The wolves turn skittish under this sudden and violent attack as he lunges and slashes at them with his sword. Now that I am nearer, I can see they have feasted well on the horse’s belly. They soon turn and lope off having eaten their fill.

Breathing hard, I glance at the carnage that was once a horse. It’s only then that I note the bay marking where the wolves have not been gorging. “Posey,” I say.

“Posey,” Caden agrees.

CHAPTER TEN

Raglan

“DO NOT PUT your hands upon me,” she hisses through clenched teeth.

We have ridden for many days, stopping briefly for a few hours when exhaustion demands before setting out once again.

“I need to hold the reins,” I say reasonably. I freely admit that having Priya’s small, soft body pressed against me for this long trek is a torturous sort of pleasure that sends my mind often to places it has no business being. “My hands need to go somewhere.”

“I can hold the reins,” she says, clinging to her defiance in a way that warms the center of my chest. The lass would not offer such a churlish response to the other scum within our groups, and it pleases me that she does not see me as a threat. Still, it will not serve her well to display such behavior in front of Derick, who is burning with malevolence after Jerry’s death.

“You cannot hold the reins,” I say. Instinctively, I insert my Alpha force into the command even though she is neither pack nor my mate. I’m surprised when she instantly calms. She is tiny and clearly not used to such hard riding. Even without the stress of the situation, it’s little wonder she succumbs to bouts of exhaustion. “You will not be complaining about touching me in an hour when you sprawl all over my chest in your sleep.”

I should not bait the lass, but alas, I find it as irresistible as her heady scent.

She huffs a little breath that is all fake outrage, for we both know she will be pressing her nose to me when she succumbs to a fitful sleep. “How did you do that?” she asks quietly.

“Do what?” I counter, stalling for time. The lass is not stupid; I’ve noticed as much quickly. She gives me attitude, but she is quiet as a mouse the moment Derick or one of his ruffian’s approach.

“Make me obey. Is it a shifter thing? I thought it only happened within a pack? Are you the Alpha of a pack? You must be. Why don’t you just tell Derick to release you?” The questions pour forth swiftly. “It only works on me,” she concludes. “Why does it only work on me?”

I have no answer. I’ve never heard of an Alpha shifter controlling anyone outside their pack. Perhaps it is because she’s an Omega? She is also deeply affected by both my scent and purr, which makes no sense given she is mated.

It makes less sense that I’m similarly affected by her scent. Were I a weaker Alpha, I fully believe I would have already fallen into a rut.

“Happen you recognized the sense of what I was saying and nothing more.”

She sits quietly for a while as we ride on at a brisk trot. But her body starts to tremble in a way that I know is fresh tears.

She cries often, and without warning for she is broken about what has happened to her beloved horse. That our bickering can make her forget for a few moments is a blessing of a kind.

As the party slows to a walk, I purr. She grows restless, fighting against the pull before softening in a way that brings a tightness to my chest. That I can give her some comfort in these monstrous times pleases me. Her trembling body sinks against mine, and she does not fuss when my arms tighten around her, ensuring she is secure.

Omegas are an enigma to me, for there are no Omega shifters. We more often mate with an Alpha female or a strong Beta on occasion. We mate in wolf form with an Alpha female who can shift with ease, and in half-shift, for Beta females who can rarely take their wolf form.

I cannot imagine how I would mate with a human Omega.

I should not be thinking about this. The lass is traumatized, and even were she not, I have enough pride not to prey on another man’s mate. Yet my thought pattern is drawn in a way I recognize as the highest folly.

We are both prisoners bound for Blighten lands. She is mated to Hawthorn and his two deputy Alphas. I’m sure they are riding like the devil is on their tails to try and reach us before we sail.

They will not succeed. Derick is a wily outlaw who has extracted me from the King’s prison and now whisked an Omega from her family estate. He plays the part of a lowly ruffian, but I’ve surmised that Derick is far more during our long journey. We have swapped out weak horses several times since we left the Wittner estate. Derick’s support network has proven to be surprisingly extensive in our moments of greatest need.

This was planned. Meticulously so.

Whatever the Wittner brothers or Hawthorn may put into play, Derick will be one step ahead. Whether it’s bribing or killing officials who manage the docks, or some other, as of yet unknown nefarious activity, I’m confident Derick will have it covered.

He acts the thug well, but he is no mercenary following orders. He is the director of