So she’s almost at the end of her heat cycle. A surge of something suspiciously like relief lightens my chest. Nope, that can’t be right.
Why should it matter to me that she should be able to cope fine when I leave her? Why does a part of me want her to miss me? And the fact that when I return, she’ll still be here waiting for me? I need to hurry and get the meeting over with.
I really should leave right now.
She shifts in my arms. Her hair flows over her shoulder, and I can’t stop myself winding it around my palm.
She bites her lip.
I bury my nose in her neck and draw in that sweet, sugary scent of hers, laced with that deeper, spicier tang of me.
The bond in my chest writhes. I stiffen. The mating bond. I rub the skin over my heart, trying to settle the restless ball of heat lurking under my ribcage.
I’d known what I was doing when I’d marked her.
Had decided as soon as I’d set eyes on her that I was going to claim her, so why does this reminder of what she is confuse me?
Why do I want to hold her close and explain why I must leave her, just for a little while?
I pull out of her and my dick slides out with a wet plop. Liquid gushes out of her pussy and sloshes down her inner thigh. My cum. Her juices. The interlaced scent of our joined arousal reeks into the air.
A pulse springs to life at my temples, in my balls, even at the back of my eyelids. Fuck me. What is this omega doing to me?
She gasps and my skin tightens, a jolt of unease crawls down my spine. How am I already so tuned into her? Fuck this. I need to walk away from her, show her she has no influence over me.
I swing my legs over the side.
Rising to my feet, I stalk away from the bed to where I’d disposed of my clothes and slide them on.
Dense clouds of tension roll off her, and I feel her uncertainty tug at me through the bond. She doesn’t say anything. Had I been expecting her to call out to me?
To stop me?
Perhaps ask me to take her again? She doesn’t, and something like disappointment weighs me down. I pull my boots on, then walk out of there.
18
Lucy
I am not sure how long I snoozed for, but the sound of the door opening sweeps through my subconscious mind. I stir and wake up, wondering where I am. The ceiling above is unfamiliar, the bed below me too smooth, too soft. I shudder and take in a breath of air and find it is scented with his fragrance. The beast has left, but his musk is everywhere, on me, in the room.
I turn and crack my eyelids open. My eyelashes are caked. I wipe away whatever is clogging them, knowing it is a mixture of sweat and his cum and our fluids, the fluids he’d dribbled into my mouth that I had swallowed down like it was the last drop of moisture I’d find in the world. The memory of how I’d given myself to him and asked him to take me, all of it crowds in on me.
My body shudders in remembrance of his touch. Slick gathers between my legs. There’s movement in the room, and I know I must sit up, but I can’t. I groan, and my voice comes out all wrong. I can barely swallow.
I need water.
My tongue is so dry it feels swollen and fills my mouth, along with his taste. The salty taste of his skin, the sweet musk of his essence, the sugary, tangy mixture of both fluids…all of it pops goosebumps on my skin. I push myself up against the pillows only to find that every part of me aches. Through half-closed eyes, I see a woman place fresh food and water on the table.
She doesn’t look at me, keeps her eyes averted. “The General has commanded that you eat and drink before he returns.”
“Who are you?” I try to say the words out loud, but of course, nothing emerges.
Before I can repeat myself, she turns and leaves. The door shuts behind her with a soft snick. Whispered words filter through, then the bolts drop into place. I am alone once more. And truth be told, I am relieved. I wouldn’t want anyone else to witness how far I have fallen. That I am here wallowing in the outcome of my mating still in the last throes of my heat cycle, floating in and out. I’d let the General break my cycle and stake his claim on me.
I hadn’t resisted enough.
Yet a part of me insists there is nothing I could have done. I am an omega, and this was bound to happen. He’d taken me so many times I’d lost count. Soon he is going to be back and no doubt he is going to fuck me many times more. A shudder of heat flushes my skin, and my guts twist with apprehension.
I have to resist him.
I must push back. It’ll only make things more difficult for me. But that’s fine. I’ve come this far; I’ve infiltrated the General’s stronghold. Now all I have to do is wait for the opportune moment and try to kill him again. Once that is done, I can return to Kayden, and he will free my clan. My stomach twists. With grief…with hunger.
The scent of food teases my nostrils.
But I shouldn’t eat. I shouldn’t.
I am here being fed, so I can get energy back, no doubt for another mating, while the other omegas must be eagerly waiting for news of my mission.
I need to complete my mission and rescue them.
Straightening my spine, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand. My knees almost buckle. My thigh muscles scream in protest. My left shoulder throbs. A fresh surge of blood drips down my throat. I hold my palm to the wound where he marked me, the wound I don’t want to acknowledge, but the throbbing in my chest responds to the ache.
It’s as if the cord that binds me to that monster recognizes its master.
My body may crave him, may want him, may even acknowledge his dominance, but not my soul. Not my mind. Not my emotions. I know I can hold out on him. When I am not in heat, when I am more myself…when.
The scent of food grows stronger. Sometime in the last few minutes I’ve crossed the floor to the table in my confused state and now I stand in front of the table bearing the tray. I should eat it. I shouldn’t. I can’t. I must. To keep up my strength. To keep myself together. Just until I find a way to kill the monster.
I had been wrong to approach Kayden and agree to his plan. I’d foolishly thought I had a chance. Truth is, I hadn’t been thinking straight. I’d gone with what my instinct said was right. And look where that landed me.
Imprisoned in the den of the monster, in the middle of a heat cycle which twists my guts. Sweat breaks out on my skin and my womb clenches in need. My teeth chatter, my toes dig into the floor. I am hot and cold all at once. Not good, this is not good. I am going into the home stretch of the heat cycle. The last day is always the worst.
Why isn’t that alpha-hole here when I need him, when I want him to take me and rut me and shove away the pain that taints my insides?
Moaning, I wrap my arm around my middle and reach for the plate, only for it to crash to the floor.
I cry out in anger, in fear, in shame, then drop to my knees, curling up on my side in front of it.
19
Zeus
I stride down the corridor without cleaning myself up. Perhaps I should have showered, but the fact is that I want her scent on me.
I want to show her claiming mark and I am still unsure why. It isn’t that common for omegas to mark their alphas. Rarer still for alphas to flaunt them. But I want to do so.