Vengeance.
He could take it from her.
All the wrongs Hadim had left staining his skin, his ruined face, blinded right eye, the loss of his hybrid sons and the harem who’d whelped them… All of it.
“Do you like my scars,” he snarled, knowing she saw her master, he pressed closer to her upturned face. Forcing her to see only the damage Hadim had wrought and not the tiny differences between them. “I got them just for you, Omega.”
Her ears flicked back, the scent of terror stinging the back of his sinuses. Blunted teeth flashed white in the gloom, but she said nothing. Didn’t so much as try to pull away.
“Look at you,” he cooed, touching her swollen lower lip with the pad of his finger. His grin spreading, for he knew exactly how to play the part of her master. Careful not to add specifics, he said, “You’re desperate for this knot, hmm? I shouldn’t have bothered to hunt you down.” He sneered, catching one bruised nipple between forefinger and thumb. “Should have known all I needed to do was wait, and you’d come to me. Desperate for this knot.”
At this, she recoiled, nipple popping free. She stumbled, slipping in a puddle of viscous fluids. On her face, the battle between terror and hatred raged. Neither winning, yet the anguish drew forth a fresh flood of slick. Peppering the air with the scent of a female in need. One conditioned to grow ripe at the slightest hint of cruelty.
“I must say,” he continued, stripping off his leathers as honeyed lies spilled over his lips, “I’m impressed to find you alive. I was given every assurance there’d be no chance of your survival, but I knew.” His mane rose up, aggression tightening against his nape, making the female cringe again. “How shall I punish you—”
She shook her head. “Hadim, pl—”
“Shhh,” he whispered and caught a fist full of tangled, wet hair, and tipped her head back. Cradling her skull between deadly, extended claws. Gentle, to prepare her for the coming violence. “You went to great lengths to escape me, Omega, to escape your duty to my harem.”
He smiled then, eager to lose himself in the limpid black gaze of a female in heat, to stoke her enticing temper into an inferno of hatred he could bathe in. Hers was a spirit that could cleanse his sins in the purifying heat of living flames—and all he had to do was wear Hadim’s mask and let her believe her own lies.
An easy feat for one born to sit on the Karahmet throne.
“I’m suitably impressed. But now,” he said, and let her feel the weight of his arousal, “I’ve come to collect what’s mine.”
It would be easy.
After all, Sinadim was his father’s son…
Chapter 24
Dazed, the war chief staggered and slipped on the wet rock, one foot left tangled in the netting. Head throbbing around a lump the exact shape of Sinadim’s fist, his center of balance listed to the right. His senses sluggish, vision blurred.
But although his mind was foggy and his brain bruised, his body remembered its task. Hard and throbbing, straining toward the scent of slick and cum, no matter that he was still ensnared.
With a scowl, Balkazar kicked his way toward freedom. Cursing and thrashing to rid himself of that thrice-damned netting.
An outraged snarl burst from his lips, for when he’d managed to blink the double vision away, it was to see none other than his treacherous Alpha hunched over a scrap of female flesh they were supposed to share.
Sinadim shunted into her from behind, a cruel gleam in his eye as she was made to brace on hands and knees. Hiccupping, tears ran freely down her face. The anguish etched in the tension between her brows, in the gritted, clenched teeth. Her ears pressed flat and nearly buried beneath the snarls of inky wet hair.
She was positively glorious.
And Sinadim was torturing her.
Refusing to set his knot. Grinning when she squealed and gushed around his girth, when she begged through the tears. Desperate for more.
“Give it up, Omega,” Sinadim spat and snaked his arm beneath her chin. Caught her throat in the crook of his elbow and forced her back. To balance on her knees, hands scrambling for purchase while he sank deep into his haunches. Employing a leisurely pace, Sinadim sluiced through the frothy mess between her thighs with a toothy smile.
Breath coming hard, Balkazar’s head cleared as Sinadim locked her against his chest. Adding leverage to choke, he made a fist in her hair. Growling when her dull, Hathorian claws dented skin, he squeezed until the veins on her forehead stood out in stark relief, her face beating red.
“I’m going to cum again, little slut,” Sinadim sang, lips pressed against her cheek, “and then you’ll have to wait for relief… when all you have to do is”—he grunted, sweat tracing his temples—“submit.”
He let her breathe, but she used the reprieve to hurl a savage, “Fuck you!” at the Anhur male capable of wringing her dainty neck without a bead of real effort.
Sinadim threw back his head and laughed. “Fine,” he said and released a weak orgasm. Painting her insides white with ropes of sticky seed, while Balkazar was made to watch. To endure.
Shocked and concussed.
A tiny slip of a girl, denying an Alpha like Prince Sinadim.
Defiant, no matter the powerful scent of slick wafting through the air. The pain she must have been in to refuse whatever game Sinadim was playing instead of stuffing her full of his knot.
Something vicious bloomed in Balkazar’s chest, and without an ounce of preparation or forethought, the war chief—a life-long student of discipline and strategy—charged. Blind with sick jealousy, with indignant fury, he aimed to attack a male he’d called brother for decades.
The squeals of a female in distress, the thick scent of rut that lingered on his palate, it incensed him. Fogged Balkazar’s brain with rash aggression that needed only an outlet.
With a bellowing roar, he crashed into Sinadim’s ribs.
The Alpha was torn from that soiled sheath with a squelch of fluids that splattered on the stone.
Gasping and shaking, the Omega collapsed. Curled into the fetal position, both hands darting between her legs as she writhed and whined. Keening, her brows drawn tight and pinched. Sweat streaking across blotchy red skin.
A delicious mess—and one Balkazar knew his Alpha had no intention of sharing. That he wouldn’t honor their agreement without being forced.
Cock throbbing behind his leathers, the war chief cast a withering scowl at Sinadim. Attempted to take his share of their bounty and ease the ache pulsing in his sack. Meaning to inseminate the female they were supposed to share, the womb they were supposed to seed together.
He was struck down before he landed a single hand on her tempting body. Realizing too late exactly what state Sinadim was in.
The rut.
Blood thick with testosterone, the Alpha retaliated. A massive fist swung into Balkazar’s peripherals, landed with a hollow ringing crunch that was white-hot where it slammed into his ocular bone.
Balkazar would not be denied, but to battle one such as Sinadim was a risk few could endure. Blind right eye or no.
With the advantage of a clear head, the war chief ducked the next swing and swept the Alpha’s feet out from under him with a savage kick.
Sinadim fell with a dull thump, the wind rushing from his lungs with a pained grunt.