Taken by Lane L.V. (top young adult novels txt) 📕

She shrugs. “Sometimes goading them is the only way to get what I want. I have goaded all of them into disciplining me at one time or another, and they cannot help what happens next. It’s in their nature to want to make you feel good after.” Her smile drops abruptly, and she pokes at her half-eaten cake. “Sometimes it doesn’t work out so well, especially with Nate, who is obsessed with the dark place. I mean, I’ve come to enjoy it, but it makes me a little fearful whenever he mentions it.”

I plant my hands over my ears like it might block out words I’ve already heard. “I do not want to know about what my brothers do with you!”

“Fine,” she says, eyes dancing with mischief as she selects another small piece of her cake. “But you still have not answered my question.”

Thankfully, my mother dismisses Vivian, and I don’t need to explain.

Belle’s grin as she eats her cakes says the subject is adjourned, but not forgotten.

Hawthorn

The lads are sent out on patrol, and after dropping Priya off with her mother and Belle, I seek out the one man who might offer further insight on Priya.

Our resident scholar, Ubold, is a reed thin Beta who is no more than twenty summers old. When Bram first appointed him upon the late scholar’s death, I had many doubts about his credibility. But he has proven to be a fruitful source of information on the Blighten, aiding our fighting technique in taking the green bastards down. I’ve become more charitably inclined toward his opinion over the last few years.

His room is a short walk from the hall, a compact space with high ceilings. The walls are lined with books, many of which can only be accessed via an age-blackened ladder that resides permanently here.

“Hawthorn.” He greets me with a nod. “I have some troubling news.”

With a sigh, I draw out the rickety wooden stool opposite his desk and sit. It creaks ominously under my weight and we both hold our breath, relieved when it holds.

A stack of leather-bound books rest on his desk, along with several rolled scrolls of parchment. Fumbling the scrolls aside, he picks up the books one at a time before finally selecting the last one and pushing the rest out the way.

He opens at a page marked by a worn leather bookmark.

“There are several documented cases of Omegas with unchanged scent.” His fingers skim along the lines as though familiarizing himself. “In all instances, it requires a further mate, or mates.”

The news settles a sickness in my gut. Instinctively, I’d known this was so, yet the vocalizing of it makes the situation both real and unavoidable. “Is this anything to do with her constant mischief and propensity for sneaking off?” I ask. “The lass was ever willful, but is bordering on foolhardy at present. She is a clever lass and she understands the danger she puts herself in by leaving her rooms unescorted.”

“She is drawn to him,” Ubold says, meeting my steady gaze, the book forgotten. “She can no more resist the pull of her final mate than the tide can resist the moon.”

I growl.

He swallows but does not look away, drumming deeper that I must face into this.

“I would sooner she did not succumb to the pull unless I’m there with her,” I say.

His face softens in sympathy. “What you want is of little importance against the higher plans. Priya needs at least one other mate. Her scent will not change until she does.”

I leave his room fully intending to check on the latest patrols when I am waylaid by Artis, Bram’s head servant, and instructed to report immediately to Bram in his study.

Bram is not alone, for Silas is also there. Despite now living together within the castle, Silas still bears the look of a soldier. There is talk of him assuming my role now that he has bonded to Belle and will reside permanently here. But everything has been put on hold given Priya’s scent has not changed.

Bram lounges behind his desk. Silas has drawn a chair to the side, angled so that he also faces toward the door.

“The king has requested half our guards to report immediately to the capital,” Bram says, tossing the carrier-grade parchment to his desk.

“We cannot fucking afford to lose half our guards,” I say, mind reeling with the implications to the security of the estate.

Bram nods. “He’s not giving us a choice, Hawthorn. There has been an attack on the northern border. Many troops have been deployed. The Orc army has dug in, by all accounts. If he does not disperse them before winter comes, he will not disperse them at all, and we can look forward to a winter of constant raiding. It’s in our interest as much as the king’s that we support this endeavor. A few weeks of discomfort now rather than a winter of pain. They are to leave by noon.”

The order burns for many reasons. Firstly, the strain it will place on responsibility for the safety of the castle. But also to my ability to protect a mate fixated upon flight. Although how her putting herself in danger by hiding in the shadowy corners of the castle might do ought but see her hurt, is a mystery to me.

“And how is Priya?” Bram asks, dark eyes sensitive, for he is no fool and can read the underlying reasons for my tension.

“Hell bent upon mischief,” I say before I can caution myself. The castle inhabitants are much enamored with gossip, and Priya’s antics are ever at the forefront.

“Yes, I heard about your handling of her,” Silas says, eyes shining with mirth. “Were it any man but you, I might take exception to what you do with my sister.” He shrugs. “But she has been a brat her whole life, and I find unexpected joy seeing her taken in hand. It also comforts me that you endure the same strife, given Belle runs circles around