Taken: The Viking Werewolf's Concubine Book Six: Taken: The Viking Werewolf's Concubine, #6

By Desiree Broussard

Part six in the bestselling paranormal romance series Taken: The Viking Werewolf's Concubine

When another concubine dies at the hands of her mate, Briony wonders if she will even survive the harsh, unrelenting werewolves of Scorched long enough to see the next full moon. Her mate is withdrawn, and any future with Rolf seems impossible. She wants to give up--she needs to give up--but the heat won't let her, and in the scattered aftermath of her passion, Briony will have to make a choice about her future... even when the choices are abysmal at best.

This book is part of an ongoing series. It is not a standalone. Each release in this smokin' hot series is 17,000 to 19,000 words in length. Enjoy!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Desiree Broussard
• Release date: Aug 14, 2016
• ISBN: 9781536596069

Book preview

Chapter 1

ROLF STARED DOWN AT the decomposing body of the mortal female known as Kelly, his eyes glowing in the pitch black darkness of the cave. The alien, Sven, lay a few feet from her on his stomach. Both of them were nude, although their nudity was hard to discern underneath the myriad of wounds, blood, and dirt that covered them. Rolf swallowed back the bile as he squatted down next to the woman's decomposing body.

Hers wasn't the first dead body he'd seen. Far from it. Rolf had seen plenty in his time, even before becoming immortal. Strife and battles were common in a Viking's life. Nobody could ever accuse them of being peaceful. But his warring mortal days paled in comparison to his life as a werewolf. The things he'd seen and continued to see on Scorched turned his stomach. Under Adolf's heavy hand, brutality was the norm, and if Adolf couldn't find someone deserving of torture and eventual death, he created a situation that would eventually lead to some unsuspecting innocent's downfall.

The purebreds were little better, as evidenced by the deaths Rolf was now investigating. His mouth tightened into a grimace as he methodically evaluated her injuries. Although her mate had made it a point to call her absence a desertion, it was clear to Rolf it was much more than that. Had the mortal simply ran away with Sven—an alien slave who belonged to Gilbert—she wouldn't by lying in the dirt, deceased from the multiple stab wounds across her body. Nor would the man lying at her side. In Rolf's eyes it was murder—plain and simple.

However, Rolf needed more than that to go on if he intended to prove what he already knew. He examined the floor of the cave, searching for the copious amounts of blood that would have indicated that they'd died where they lay. There was none, just like the murder weapon was nowhere to be found. Whoever had killed them hadn't done it there. The cave was a dumping ground, nothing more.

There were several tracks leading to their bodies, which told Rolf more than one person had been involved. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that Gilbert was behind the attacks, but proving it wouldn't be easy. Not when their laws were just as corrupt as the werewolves who made them. But Odin willing, one day Gilbert and his accomplices would be held responsible for the despicable acts they'd committed. Rolf would torture it out of the other man, if needed.

Gilbert certainly hadn't thought twice about torturing the two who lay broken in front of Rolf's burning eyes. Nor had those who assisted him. The bruises on the woman's body told a story of their own, as did the blood and semen staining her stiffened thighs. And he hadn't even gotten around to examining Sven yet. Rolf sighed.

The cold of the cave has gone a long ways toward preserving them, Rolf decided, as he moved to Sven's side. Especially when it came to the alien reported to be Kelly's lover. Despite the wounds Sven had sustained, Rolf couldn't see any signs of decomposition. He frowned, as he dragged his eyes across the other man's body, his senses opened wide.

Rolf's eyes stopped at the apex of Sven's thighs, below the crease of his buttocks. The nausea boiling in his stomach surged upwards. He leaned over and vomited, his chest heaving as his stomach emptied itself. The bastards had unmanned Sven in the basest way possible—by defiling his body, much like they'd done to the female's. The horrors the two had experienced were ungodly. Death had likely been a mercy they'd anticipated.

Rolf sat back on his heels as he sucked in the cool air of the cave. The corners of his eyes were wet with tears. He wiped them away, relieved there was no one around to see his weakness. Had he not been alone, he would have had to hold back his emotions, a task that would have been difficult due to the victims' conditions. Somehow, Rolf would have managed though. Weakness in his world was a mistake many didn't get to make twice.

But Rolf was wasting time, a luxury he couldn't afford. Although he trusted his father to guard Briony with his life, even the best of intentions could be waylaid when confronted with a force too great to overcome. Someone on Scorched wanted Briony dead. They'd tried unsuccessfully once already. Eventually, they would try again, and Rolf doubted they'd repeat their mistake by sending just one assassin. His father was a tremendous fighter, but he wasn't invincible. Nobody was, even if they were werewolf. It was dangerous times they were living in, even more dangerous than ever. Rolf needed to return to Emerald Isle as soon as possible.

He reached out his hand and grabbed Sven's shoulder, with the intention of rolling him over to examine him further. As his fingers closed over his skin, Rolf was startled when the man jerked. At the same time, Sven moaned, Stop. No more.

Rolf yanked his hand away as if he'd been burned. Sven is alive? It seemed almost impossible he could have survived the tortures he had, much less the journey to the cave. Yet, there was no denying the truth.

Again, Rolf reached out to roll him over. Sven struggled weakly against his grip, but Rolf ignored his feeble attempts. Instead, he placed Sven flat on his back before leaning over him so the alien could see his face as he said, Be at ease. I'm not here to hurt you.

Sven met his eyes with his one good one and made a sound that could only be described as a whimper. Yet, the expression on his face remained stoic, though