Ear to the door, breath caught in her lungs, Morgaine heard the dulcet voice of her mother’s steady, submissive reply. “I assure you again, none reside here but I, sir. I am a tailor and live a modest life. Customers come to me, to this room, to be fitted for their clothing. It must be one of them you smell.”
A dangerous growl shook the walls. “Your neighbors tell a different tale, madam. You have a daughter. Her name is Morgaine... and you have allowed her to age out of our sight to the point that she is now full-grown. The child is not your property. She belongs to the Alphas, and you shall give her up.”
“My only child died years ago. Whoever told you differently is mistaken. Take any of my goods you desire. See, prized cloth, woven and dyed to a deep red? It’s yours. How about embroidered tatted lace for your wife? Look here, this is my finest work. Beyond these wares, I have nothing else to offer you, great Alpha.”
Each hair on the back of Morgaine’s neck stood at attention, her heart in her throat upon hearing the Alpha cruelly bark, “Have her bound in the square. If she will not answer with honesty, she will be made an example of and left there to rot.”
“No!” Hand to the latch, Morgaine thrust the door inward, desperate to save her mother. “Don’t hurt her! I am here.”
In the cottage’s dim light, two huge, unwanted males dominated the small chaotic space. Amongst tossed furniture and shattered possessions they stood: pristine armor, weapons hanging at their waists and slung across their backs.
Both poured every ounce of their attention over her, each male unnaturally still and unblinking.
The door shut with a bang at her back.
Eyes welling, Morgaine stumbled forward and repeated. “I’m here.”
The nearest soldier took a step toward her. In response, she drew in a breath, ready to beg for her mother’s life. One deep inhalation, and Morgaine became stone.
It was as if she could taste the intruders in the back of her throat. Embers… it was like breathing in scorching fire that burned from the inside out.
She couldn’t speak to beg for amnesty. She couldn’t fall to her knees.
She couldn’t breathe.
Blinking madly, a wheeze caught in her chest.
Wide-eyed, she cut a panicked glance to her mother. An Alpha’s hand was wrapped around the woman’s throat, her taut body jammed against the wall. Gone was the calm-voiced merchant. Shaking from terror, she reached for her child.
Desperate to cling to her mother, unable to move, Morgaine felt warm tears slip from her eyes. She tried, she tried with everything in her being to reach back.
Instead, the floor met her knees when a viscous cramp tore up her calves and left her sprawling. The genuflection was not an act of supplication. Not when her hands had clawed into the floor as if it might save her.
Lack of air left her giddy, weak, and on the verge of unconsciousness.
Through the tangle of her hair, she saw the closest soldier’s boots approach.
Amusement colored his gibe. “Your nonexistent daughter has returned.”
Fingers splayed, Morgaine stared at the rushes under her palms, babbling out anything she thought might appease the men who tormented her mother. “I was in the woods... gathering berries.”
An unwelcome finger hooked her chin, forcing her to raise her face for inspection. The man touching her, the intruder who had wrecked her home, was larger than any male in her village. Huge. Mean. A weather-beaten face frowned down at her. “And where are these berries?”
“I couldn’t...” she could not have gathered berries earlier, just as in that moment she could not form proper words. Silent tears dripped down dirty cheeks. “I love my mother.”
“Hush, girl.” The stranger held her eyes, cupped her face in his rough palms, and offered a soft smile.
It did not lessen the hardness of him, not in the slightest.
On the verge of bawling, Morgaine begged, “Please…”
At her entreaty, the stranger began to produce the most beautiful music.
Never had air rumbled with such perfect warmth. From under the vivid armor across his chest, deep reverberations made the world new. The resonating noise held the power to loosen her locked muscles—Morgaine suddenly able to suck in greedy gulps of air.
Baffled, she gaped. The Alpha purred in the way the courting men of her settlement purred—the way her fat neighbor’s son, Cassius, had purred when he’d offered her flowers... but deeper... the sound so profound her body felt as if it were weightless in a vast body of water.
“Keep your eyes open, renegade.” Inundated with rich vibration, a voice rough around the edges grew remarkably smooth. As did his touch when his thumb wiped her cheeks clean of tears. “I wish to hear your name from your own lips.”