Taken, Lane L.V. [free novels to read .TXT] 📗

better than remaining in our chambers where I will spend my time worrying about my mysterious fourth mate. But enthusiasm is hard to find.

My mother gushes daily regarding Belle’s pregnancy. When the flame-haired Omega first arrived, she was the talk of the castle. Now that she has gotten with child during her first heat, she has risen to legendary status.

I wanted badly to hate her when we first met, but I find that I cannot. Also, pregnancy has neither made her ankles swell nor has it curbed her mischief. I quietly cheer her whenever she gives one of my brothers a hard time.

As Hawthorn swings the door wide, I’m greeted by not only Belle and my mother, but the seamstress hussy, Vivian. Shep lounges by the fire with his belly in the air, but hearing us enter, he rolls over. Big floppy tail beating about with enthusiasm, he slinks over to me so that I might pet his undamaged ear. His tail beats double-time. It’s no secret that he now prefers me over Belle. I do not lord over my superiority in this matter, but we all understand it is so.

Belle is stood upon a little stool, and Vivian is pinning a gown, adjusting it for Belle’s expanding waistline now that the babe is starting to show.

Belle’s lips tug up in a knowing smirk that holds no malice. My hatred of Vivian is apparent to everyone. As an Omega with four mates, Belle has witnessed the shamelessness of some within the castle who do not understand that a mated Alpha has no interest in their charms. Giselle, my mother’s former maid, was caught batting her lashes at Nate a week ago. Pointless given Nate only has eyes for his Belle. His little mate is twice as possessive now that she is with child. She admitted that she didn’t feel better about Giselle’s antics until Nate had rutted her several times, and she bloodied his claiming mark with her small teeth.

Not only is Belle an excellent source of cursing, but she also speaks freely about anything and everything that should happen to cross her mind. My mother says it’s because she came from a lowly home and has not been taught otherwise. I think it is just Belle.

Vivian gazes in the direction of the door, seeming disappointed that it’s Hawthorn who accompanies me. The hussy has no shame.

“Priya is not to leave this room without either myself, Caden, or Brook as an escort,” Hawthorn says ominously to my mother.

“Oh my!” my mother says, looking between Hawthorn and me. “What has she done?”

“Sneaking off to see Posey,” he says. My cheeks flame. He does not need to announce this to the room.

Belle offers a sympathetic look; she understands my attachment and often speaks with affection for her old plow horse, Percy. I do not readily understand how anyone might become attached to a plow horse, which is clearly nothing like a riding horse. Belle has many quirks.

“Priya,” my mother scolds.

“Do not trouble yourself, Lady Fran,” Hawthorn says, bowing. “We have dealt with it.”

Turning, he strides out the door.

Belle smirks again when I grimace as I join my mother on the couch. I give her my best glare.

And so it is I endure the dress fitting where Vivian gushes, and my mother fusses, over a pregnant Belle. Thankfully, they ignore the way I fidget upon my seat.

Finally, Vivian is satisfied it’s pinned to her exacting standards. Belle goes to change behind the screen, and fresh tea and cakes are ordered. I admit to having a weakness for honey cakes, so the transition from the couch to the table before the window where the drink and food are laid out is greeted with greater enthusiasm than the dress fitting.

Vivian is particularly needy today, and my mother is distracted by a detailed discussion on the dress the seamstress holds. Belle comes and joins me as I take another slice of the honey cake. After the spanking and wild coupling in my bedroom with my three mates, I’m ravenously hungry.

“What did they do to you for sneaking off?” Belle demands at a whisper.

“Nothing,” I say, taking a bite of my cake. I try not to think about the recent goings-on in my chamber, but my bottom is very sore from both the spanking . . . and the wickedness that came after. Heat spreads from my face all the way down my chest.

“Silas orders Nate to take his belt to me if I misbehave badly. It’s nearly always Nate who disciplines me. Silas does it rarely, and Bram rarer still. Dax seldom spanks me, but he has such big hands…” She trails off, her voice wistful as she gazes out the window at the distant castle ruin.

“It was the crop,” I whisper. “They keep a paddle on the nightstand, but if it’s considered particularly bad, they use the cane or the crop. I do not like the cane, but I like the crop less.” I’m not overly comfortable listening to tales of my brothers disciplining of Belle, for I’m now aware, since my own mating, that an Alpha does not stop at discipline when it comes to his mate. Further, that it’s a precursor to them making their mate feel good.

“Do they make you feel good after?” she asks like she can read my mind.

“Belle! That is a very private matter.”

Grinning, she peeks over her shoulder as if to confirm my mother and Vivian are still busy. “Sometimes I goad them into disciplining me.” Smug now, she selects a piece of cake and stuffs it into her mouth.

My cake is forgotten as I gape at her. “Why would you goad them?” I hiss, eyes flashing to where my mother and Vivian stand, grateful they are still busy because I’m compelled by this conversation despite my fake outrage.

“Nate is not very bright. Silas is surly, Bram often busy, and Dax worries that he might hurt me, which is ridiculous given he is the gentlest of them all.”