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gone to care. And so is Priya. He has her on her hands and knees as I battle to stuff my painfully stiff cock into my pants.

β€œGood girl,” Brook says, thrusting her skirt up and sinking into her hot cunt with a groan of pleasure. β€œWe are here with you now. You will feel better once we have filled you up.”

She whimpers as he uses her roughly, his big hands braced to her hips as he fucks her hard.

I swipe a hand down my face, swaying a little on my feet. The Blighten bastards beat us well before they thrust us down here.

The chained shifter scum who has dared to put his hand on her has fallen silent, and the small hold is filled with the wet slapping sounds as Brook ruts our errant Omega to completion. As he knots her with a growl, he rocks back onto his knees, drawing her back flush to his chest. His hips jerk erratically, fingers of one hand lost under her skirts as he strums her clit, encouraging her to better milk the seed from his dick.

I want her again.

But I’m so fucking shattered. I sink to my knees before her, and she falls against me, sobbing and clinging, muttering wild, incoherent words that I think might be an apology.

β€œHush, lass,” I say. I purr.

Brook is finally sated, and he purrs too.

We collapse together to the hard wooden floor. The swaying motion settles a sickness in my gut that promises a new kind of torment. But Priya’s scent fills my nose, and for a moment, all is well.

She sobs and clings, and we press around her as tightly as we can.

β€œWe are Goddess cursed to find ourselves in this situation,” Brook mutters, voice slurred in a way that says pain and exhaustion are pulling him under. β€œBut of all the times for it to happen, her scent has finally changed. What do you think it means?”

The hairs on the back of my neck rise, and my pulse kicks up. I’d almost forgotten about the shifter we share this cell with. Now I’m aware of him in ways I wish I was not.

Her scent has changed, but it has also blended with his.

Hawthorn

As I stand on the dock, I understand that I have failed. The ship is a disappearing dot. The empty bay holds the lingering scent of Caden, Brook, and Priya.

I take comfort that they are together, but not much.

Inside, I am cold rage. Outside, I am a stoic, false kind of calm.

No ships are sailing to where they go. But I can seek passage across the sea to the distant kingdom. If luck is with me, I will reach it before the winter snows block the passage through the eastern mountain range that leads to Blighten lands. It is a quicker journey than heading through our northern border by land.

I don’t know how I will find them. I only know that I will.

Close.

But not close enough.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Raglan

WHATEVER THE BLIGHTEN scum above are up to, they pay us no heed other than a daily visit with water and food. So, it is here I find myself locked in a tiny hold annex with two Alphas and an Omega who take rutting to a level beyond all my wildest suspicions. And I, their reluctant captive audience . . . It is the worst form of pun that even my questionable sense of humor can derive no twisted pleasure from.

It is a great pity it’s not darker down here, but a slatted wooden porthole allows weather and sunlight in. I almost wish for the early days of the boat journey, for the joyless sounds of them all throwing up as they found their sea legs, and when the only scent filling my sensitive nose was that of sickly vomit.

Being locked in this hold with the three of them is the highest form of torture. My cock exists in a permanent state of arousal, the air thick with the scent of pheromones, slick, and cum. A little water is supplied for washing, and the bastards give me none of it. The only time I’m freed from the chains is a daily walk about the deck.

After three weeks, my stink is so bad that Derick orders his outlaw brethren to strip me and douse me down.

I don’t even complain about the frigid conditions that make my balls seek sanctuary in the crack of my ass and shrivel my cock to the size of a fat worm.

β€œGods!” an outlaw says, staring at my cock with something between envy and horror. β€œNo wonder lasses run screaming from shifter scum.”

What can I say? It is a big worm.

 My clothes are tossed over the side, and the rags they give me are fucking itchy, but at least they are cleaner.

We have just been fed. Caden sits opposite with the little Omega on his lap. He is the higher of the two males, although he is slightly smaller in size. The younger brother, Brook, looks to Caden for direction in all things.

So, it is Caden I can look forward to beating to a pulp that I might assert my place. Given he has taunted me with the Omega for these past weeks, I shall relish the experience to a whole other level beyond a need to establish hierarchy. If Hawthorn were here, I would have words with him about the insolent whelp.

Eyeing me boldly, Caden tugs down the scrap of rag that was once a pretty dress, exposing Priya’s plump tits to my view.

I look. I don’t want to fucking look because looking makes my cock rise within the painful confines of my rough pants, but I cannot fucking help myself.

She gasps, her face flaming as she sends me a furtive glance. Why she is still outraged given they have rutted her before me in every way a man can, and exposed every inch of her to my

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