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

In my heart, I knew something terrible was happening involving my mates, but while I could not see it, I could pretend it wasn’t so. There are no marks on Raglan or Caden; they are all on Brook. A sob escapes my lips. His naked upper body and face show the evidence of many-layered bruising: black, blue, yellow, purple.

“Please,” I say, only I don’t know what I’m pleading for. The mute shifter edges closer to me, within the limit of the leash, and slips her hand into mine.

“You need to put these worries out of your head, my pet,” Edil says. “You are a slave now. The lad is strong. Perhaps Gan will take him as a pet when we reach the shore. He might even allow the lad to rut you on occasion, if it pleases him. Would that comfort you, pet?”

It is a low moment when I realize I would be comforted by such a scrap. There was a time when I had my mates freely and often, and when their care for me was manifested through their loving attention, whether it was a paddle or their cocks. I miss their discipline, and how silly is that?

“Can I go to him?” I beg. I tremble uncontrollably, fat tears spilling down my cheeks.

“No,” Edil says, although her voice is not unkind. “I don’t think that would be wise.”

I don’t argue. In my past life, before I became a slave, I would certainly have argued with anyone were I not getting my way. But now, all I can do is watch Brook as he is half carried between Raglan and Caden. His slow steps and stiff baring speak of terrible pain.

Edil turns away, and with Zeta’s hand in mine, we follow in her wake.

But my day is under a cloud, and I can’t unsee what has happened. There is so much damage to our souls that my life is forever cast into shades of black and grey. I fall into a half-life, I exist, but I am not present in this reality. And when night falls, and the highborn lord and lady take to their bedding nook, I already have a plan.

Zeta looks at me in question, lifting her hands in an indication that she wants to come. I shake my head. She nods hers, pointing toward the door. “You must stay here,” I whisper. She has never once spoken, but she could raise the alarm in other ways. “I need to see him,” I whisper. Face solemn, the mute girl nods.

Putting a lifetime of entitlement, defiance, recklessness, and sneaking to good use, I slip out the cabin door.

It is dark; only the moonlight illuminates the deck. No one is guarding the entrance. We are on a ship sailing the high seas, and there is nowhere to go but a watery death over the side. A brisk wind billows the white sails as we glide swiftly across the waters. I hear faint conversation carried on the wind, but it comes from the helm.

Over to the starboard side, a man approaches carrying a lantern. I take off in the other direction at a run, silk slippers light and silent against the deck. Fleet of foot and fast, I hide in shadows as I traverse the deck toward the hold where Brook, Caden, and Raglan are being held. It is pitch black in the stairwell, and I’m forced to feel my way down.

I curse under my breath as I fumble around the door, for I never thought to look at how it was secured.

“Priya?” a whisper growl comes from the other side of the door. I hear the sound of shuffling as I’m busy with my task. “What the fuck are you doing here?” It is Caden, and his tone suggests he is furious beyond all prior levels of fury.

“Shush!” I whisper back.

A faint light comes from the top of the stairwell, and I hold my breath. It passes, and I’m back to fumbling at the edges of the door until I find the heavy bolt. Stiff, it creaks loudly as I carefully work it free.

“She will wake the fucking dead,” I hear Raglan mutter on the other side of the thick door. “The wench is in sore need of discipline. You lads have done a piss poor job so far.” He sighs heavily. “If needs be, I will step up to this arduous task.”

This is a dangerous moment; I have snuck from my room and am sure to be in terrible trouble should I be found, but my stomach still does that sweet clenching thing at the mere thought of Raglan disciplining me.

“Hawthorn has applied no end of crop and cane to her bottom, and it hasn’t changed her yet,” Brook says.

The bolt comes free with a sudden thud. Silence descends as my ears strain in case of notice.

Quiet. 

Slowly, I draw the door open and slip inside.

A huge shape looms beside the door, blocking the little light from the open slatted window and a big hand closes over my mouth before a startled scream can escape. “It’s me, you little fool,” Caden whisper-growls. “Gods, you are going to get yourself killed, lass,” he says before crushing me in a hug. “And what the fuck is this scandalous clothing the Orc bitch has dressed you in?”

A grunt comes from the far side of the hold, and I turn from Caden to Brook. Hands lifting, I cup his poor, beaten face.

“Eh, I’m fine,” Brook says, fingers stroking through my hair as he draws me against his chest. “It is so good to hold you, but you cannot stay here. It will destroy us should you come to harm because of this.” His big hand cups my ass. “I wish I felt better because these are definitely rutting clothes.”

“Did you let her out?” Raglan asks.

“Who?” I ask, distracted by what Brook’s hand is doing.

“The shifter, of course,” Raglan says like this should be obvious. Brook’s hand stills. “I’m surprised she