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

moan sweetly for the two brothers. But she will scream with pleasure when I fill her up.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Priya

WHEN I WAS little, I thought a great deal about adventures. I imagined the fun of being a boy, like my older brother Nate, and riding off to battle the Blighten in distant lands. Adventures were to be had anywhere but home.

A husband, a babe, and simple home comforts were abhorrent to me, and a future to be avoided at all costs. I wanted an adventure so badly, it felt like an unattainable utopia that was denied me through the bad luck of being a girl, and a small one at that.

But now I’m having an adventure, I find it is nothing like my young fantasies. It is dark and ugly. It is a constant, invisible pressure. It is a few snatched moments of relief when my mates are inside me, and I can forget that I’m a filthy prisoner who will soon meet a dire fate.

I am not foolish. I know Caden and Brook’s constant attention is done for many reasons.

One is undoubtedly, distraction.

One is that they cannot help themselves.

But one is that they are posturing before Raglan, who we all instinctively understand is the more dominant male.

He is also my fourth mate.

I cannot fathom what cruel trick the Goddess plays in offering me this traitor as a fourth. By his own admission, he is not a good man. Yet, at night, when I lay between Caden and Brook, when I’m missing the comfort of Hawthorn’s purr, I find I also miss Raglan. Worse, I crave the roguish shifter’s scent to the point where I fear I may embarrass myself and seek him out, even knowing it would cause conflict far surpassing what we already have.

I can hear the sound of seagulls. They lowered the anchor a short time ago, and although our open window reveals the endless grey sea and sky, I know we are close to land.

This is not the first time they have dropped anchor.

Raglan says it will take them another few weeks before they reach Blighten lands and that these stops are either supplies or to collect more ‘villainous scum’ as he calls them.

I am nestled on Brook’s lap today, and he is playing absently with my knotty hair.

“Her scent is changing back,” Brook says.

I freeze, glancing at Caden, who is staring back at Brook.

“What if they bring Alphas on the boat?” Brook continues. “She should sit with him.”

Caden’s nostrils flare with rage. “She will not fucking sit with him.”

Brook’s arms tighten around me, and I sense Raglan shifting subtly within the confines of his chains. “We cannot afford for her scent to change back,” Brook says with a growl. “We have no power here. If she attracts the attention of a free Alpha, what will we do?”

“No one will touch her,” Caden growls back, but I see the worry in his eyes, and I have these worries too. Brook may have moments of foolishness, but he is not a fool.

My heart skips a beat. I want to sit with Raglan in ways that have nothing to do with my changing scent, but I do not want this conflict. I also do not want an Alpha on the ship to take me from them because he is driven mad with lust. I’ve done everything I can to avoid thinking about the day when this impasse ends, and Derick hands me over to their Blighten lords, but now there are closer dangers that I must fear.

“You are scaring the lass,” Raglan says, voice a low growl. It is not his commanding voice, but it’s close, and I fidget on Brook’s lap.

“He will try and fuck her,” Caden says, ignoring the low growl from the shifter chained to the wall.

“He did not need to fuck her before,” Brook responds, all belligerent anger.

“How do you know?” Caden bites back.

The words are like a snapping thread, and both Caden and Brook turn toward Raglan with murder in their eyes.

“Easy lads,” Raglan says, lifting shackled hands and setting the chains to jangling. “I did not lay a single inappropriate hand upon her the entire time we were together, never mind lift her skirts. I might have betrayed the King—which he fucking asked for—but I still have some fucking sense of right and wrong. I do not rut unwilling wenches.”

Caden curses.

My heart lodges in my throat.

I cannot deny that my pussy clenched when Raglan made a flippant mention of lifting my skirts. His mention of his conflict with the King also intrigues me. He has spoken very little of events, always accepting responsibility for his fate as a betrayer of the King. This is the first allusion he has made that there might be another side to his actions.

I also sense his genuine outrage at their implication he might force himself on an unwilling lass.

The problem is, I would not be unwilling. It has been many days and weeks since I last felt Raglan against me and drew his scent in . . . felt it wrap around me.

The tension in our small hold is stifling. “I could sit near him,” I venture.

Caden sighs and swipes his hand over his grubby face. “I think you need to be closer. I think you need to sit with him as close as you were when you rode a horse.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, and the remaining words come out pained. “And given how many hours you would have been against him for the scent to change, you must spend equal time now . . . or find other ways.” He makes a circular motion with his hand. “To speed the process up.”

“He is not rutting her!” Brook says, clenching me so tightly, I yelp, eliciting a growl from the other two Alphas present.

“He is not rutting me,” I agree.

“I did not mean rutting!” Caden says. He gestures toward Raglan, and