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

when he speaks again, his voice has softened. “You will need to sit on his lap . . . He will need to handle you, or your scent will never change.”

I don’t want to be handled. Handled is what Hawthorn instructed Caden and Brook to do when I was still a Beta, and we were yet to be bound. Handling means touching, sometimes discipline, and sometimes, touching intimately.

It has been a long time since I’ve been disciplined. Confined as we are together, there is neither reason nor inclination toward such pursuits when time is so precious.

Yet, I also do want to be handled by Raglan.

I think this is Caden accepting that Raglan is my fourth mate.

I am confused.

And I wish Hawthorn were here. In this moment, where I’m about to embrace change, I want his approval and acceptance of this step.

And I miss him, Goddess, I cannot reconcile how much I miss him.

What if this is wrong and we are about to commit a grave mistake?

“It is alright, lass,” Raglan says quietly. “It does not need to be now, or even today.”

His words, and the sincerity with which he speaks, makes it easier for me.

My lips tremble, for I am very sad inside. I remember sitting on Hawthorn’s lap in our bedroom after he caught me listening at the door. “I don’t want another mate,” I said. It was the first time I had spoken my understanding of my unchanged scent.

He had drawn me against him so close I was sure we were one. “I do not want that either,” he said. His lips had pressed against my temple. There was a broken edge to his voice. “But we are not enough, and the Goddess has other plans.” I had wept, and we clung together for many moments, taking comfort in the touch that could only ease the pain a little.

“We will always be with you, Priya,” he said. “And I will always be your first Alpha.” His words held the ring of promise. “Whoever it may be, they will not harm you. It is an Omega’s choice, remember that. It was the same when you accepted Caden, Brook, and me. It is the natural way between Alphas and Omegas. You have my word. This time will be no different.”

Was this me choosing Raglan?

I rise. There is a brief moment where Brook retains possession of my hand before he lets go.

As I settle upon Raglan’s lap, his strong arms come around me, and his rich scent that is a little wild and reminds me of the forest, fills my lungs. The chains rattle a little, and my fingers trace the seam of his cuffs where the metal has caused the skin to chafe, crack, and blister. He is a huge, intimidating male, and I feel both small and unnaturally meek, like we are meeting for the first time.

He purrs for me.

And I am comforted.

My mind spins backward, not as far back as my conversation with Hawthorn, but to the darkest night when Posey met her brutal end. I’d been insensible with my grief at the time, but as I remember now, I can see the way Raglan stepped in. How dangerous it was for him to do so with a ruthless Blighten leader like Derick in control.

He has always stepped in. Making light of situations, putting his body between me and danger, time and time again.

Rough around the edges, coarse, a villain, and a betrayer of the King, he may be—he angers me no end when he calls me ‘wench’—but he is not wholly bad.

As I press my cheek to Raglan’s chest the way I did that very first night, I realize that I have already chosen and that it happened a long time ago.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Priya

THE CLANK AND rattle of the anchor rising startles me from sleep. I’m still on Raglan’s lap, his chained wrists are looped over me so his hands rest against my belly as I make a pillow from his chest.

I tense as I take this in, assaulted by grief for the absence of my first Alpha, Hawthorn, and guilt that I’m enjoying the comfort of another male.

Raglan purrs, and it calms me. It is a different purr to that of my other Alphas. I wonder if it’s part of him being a shifter or simply that he is unique.

“What color is your wolf?” I ask, twisting my head so I can see him. My eyes dip to his lips. We are close enough that I could kiss him if I lean a tiny bit upward.

“Snow white,” he says, hooded eyes inspecting me, face serious.

I frown. “White? I thought it would be brown.” Although why I should presume so, I cannot say. Nate’s fur color is not dissimilar to his hair, but that might be a coincidence now that I think about it. “Does your wolf not look like you?”

“No,” he says, lips twitching. “I am in human form presently, lass. My wolf looks remarkably like . . . a wolf.”

I hear Brook chuckle. A meaty thud is followed by a grunt indicating that Caden has just thumped him.

I huff out a breath, eyes narrowing on Raglan. “It is not white.”

His wolf-blue eyes crinkle at the corners in mirth. “You’ve got me, lass. My wolf is not white. It is black.”

I’m about to dispute this claim also when the door creaks ominously before it is thrust open.

Derick stands in the doorway, the loaded crossbow trained upon the room. A cruel smirk lights his lips as he sees where I am. “Knew Omegas needed a lot of rutting but I didn’t think you’d be whoring her out to the shifter scum.”

Tension ripples through Raglan’s body. “Don’t,” I whisper, and it feels right when I press a kiss to his chest. There is rough cloth between my lips and his skin, but underneath, I can feel the heavy thud of his beating heart.

Derick surveys the scene,