Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
There’s insolence.
And then there’s a death wish.
I think I might be clawing at that line rather too closely, if the look on this guard’s face is any indication.
I suspect his scowl matches mine. I don’t relish being here—and if it weren’t for the weight of duty lodged between the lobes of my lungs, I wouldn’t be.
Technically, an alpha male of my standing shouldn’t even know where “here” is. I only have the coordinates to our king’s tower because my grandmother, Mortana, happens to be one of his favorite advisors.
“I need to speak with the Zortaire,” I snap, ignoring the spears of two hulking purple males. They both angle them toward me.
“He said he isn’t to be disturbed,” Left answers, his throaty Roktusian a reminder that I’m still speaking the human’s strange Earth language I uploaded this morning.
I switch back now, subtly. “I’m afraid it’s urgent.”
Right guard’s glare tightens. “And I’m afraid the Zortaire said no visitors.”
I can guess why, given the choking Alpha musk filling his entire wing of the castle.
The memory of him practically running from Sofi’s antechamber doesn’t need to rise to the surface of my brain—it never left.
I’ve replayed the moment a hundred times, unable to understand. Equally impressed and horrified.
Would our king honestly give up his only hope of saving Khanos and its people?
More importantly, why?
He clearly wanted her every bit as much as I did, and it shamed me how close I came to barging past her portal to—
No, I remind myself. Control.
The mad rush frothing in my blood is precisely why I’m here, facing the business end of two spears.
A muffled groan pricks my ears. Two seconds later, the Zortaire’s distinct scent floods the vestibule outside his bedchamber. I’m no omega, so the undertones are lost on me—something pungent and dark at the same time—but the strength of it has my tails whipping at the floor.
Is he… in a rut?
The musk of a Prime Alpha like Zolkan produces an odd clash of reactions. Instincts to brawl. To conquer. Blended with the distinct desire to show my horns and bow in defeat.
His final roar of release firmly slides me into the second category.
The serrated sound sends quivers into my claws. Reminding me that the Zortaire may be strangely avoidant, but he is still the strongest, most dominant male on the planet.
Fighting him would be suicide. The fact that some insane, primitive portion of my mind has even considered challenging him is proof we must deal with the omega. At once.
I glance between the males flanking the king’s portal, sizing them up. With a sigh, I accept their unfortunate fate, reaching out to steal the nearest spear.
Zolkan glances down at the two males lying across his threshold. Blinking violet eyes, he thrashes his single tail behind him while he frowns.
“I asked nicely,” I state, shrugging as I hand him the weapon I used. Most people don’t realize the blunt side of a spear can be just as effective as the sharp end. “Then I asked not-so-nicely.”
Our king meets my gaze. The usual begrudging respect passes between us; he is the Prime Alpha. He is also smart enough to know that, should he ever fall, I would be a top contender for his crown.
In the end, I cannot match his dominance. My eyes skirt away on instinct. I offer a belated bow. “Sire.”
Zolkan sighs, the tension receding from his face but not his bearing. I note that he hasn’t dressed. Two dark purple cocks bob at attention, thick with throbbing veins. Both knots on his breeding shaft are fully engorged.
They look painfully tight, despite whatever I overheard moments ago. Idly, I wonder how long he’s been up here, trying to get them under control. Is it possible he’s been at it since he left this morning?
I’d be lying if I claimed I didn’t have to seek similar relief when I finally managed to tear myself away from the sealed portal keeping us from Sofi. It only took a few releases for my senses to return, though. This seems… extreme.
Zolkan grunts, drawing my attention from his half-raw cocks. A glower deepens the grooves around his face plates. “You’ll heal both of my guards after we speak,” he determines. “And if this happens again, there will be severe consequences.”
I doubt it. Zolkan is far too diplomatic for his own good. The sight of his bare back—and the Shearing scars branded there like an X—is proof of that.
He must know, as well as I do, that his brother’s death wasn’t his fault.
Yet he took the blame Rask leveled at him.
And allowed Norabi the unfortunate task of removing his wings as payment for a sin that didn’t belong to him.
Now, he’s allowed the same male who accused him to bed down with his omega.
I ignore the itch of curiosity, resisting the urge to get sidetracked with an inquisition about his behavior. It isn’t my place to question him, anyway. He has my grandmother for that. Not to mention the factions of restless Roktusians who are eager to breed but can’t until he does…
No. I have to remember my purpose here.
Sofi.
The human, I correct internally. Then say the words out loud.
“The human.”
Zolkan pauses mid-step. His shoulders bunch, scars pulling taut over his lavender hide. When his glutes flex, I can only assume his cocks have reacted to the mere mention of her.
Shaking off his reaction, the king stalks to a cart hovering on the far wall. His room is a mirror image of Sofi’s. A semi-permeable membrane stretches across the eastern half of the chamber while his larger bed takes up the western half.
Zolkan selects a midnight-blue brew—the distilled elixir from moryn fruit. Terribly bitter, but effective. He pours himself a glass without granting me one.
There are times I understand the king more than I care to.
This—his pointed lack of hospitality—is one of them.
“Speak quickly,” he warns. “Before I change my mind and leave you in the tidy pile you so graciously provided.”
His ruff raises the trail of fur along my spine. I grit my teeth, fangs nipping my lower lip.
I rehearsed this, gods-dammit. It should not be so hard to scrape out the words.
“Your omega,” I finally manage. “As she is now under my medical care, I must insist on hearing your plans for ensuring her continued well-being.”
I leave out the second part. Best not to play every angle at once.
Zolkan raises a thick, purple brow. “You dare to question my plans for my—” He bites down on his own word before amending, “The omega?”
Apparently, I do. And if the feral, darkening scent of his musk is any indication, this may not be an intelligent gamble.
It’s too late, though.
I’m beginning to suspect I would quite literally die on this hill. Never mind the restraints hanging from his headboard.
Dear gods, did he have to chain himself up to stay away from her?
The thought dries my throat. “She needs protection,” I somehow snap. “You must Present her as soon as possible.”
Our king’s ears flatten against his shining violet hair. A low, menacing snarl hisses from his throat. “I would never subject her to that.”
I suppress a wince. The Roktusian tradition for alphas Presenting and bonding their chosen omegas is ancient, harkening back to the days when our people moved in smaller warrior clans. Because it is as old as our planet itself, the ritual is also fairly… barbaric.
“There is no other choice,” I argue. With him and myself. “You’ve seen how she affects us all. How Rask was unable to keep himself from her.”
I stuck around just long enough to make sure Sofi welcomed his advances before forcing myself to flee.
But the alphas who fight to tend to her will not always be ones she wants.
And if anybody pounces on her when she’s out of her mind with a heat surge.
.. Or, worse, steals her away from the palace altogether…
I wasn’t worried until I saw the profound effect she had on me. As an alpha with absolutely no inclinations toward matehood or breeding, I thought I’d be reasonably immune to the charms of an omega. The pulsing erections between my thighs proved just how much I underestimated her.
Others will, too. Good alphas who have no wish to do harm may scent her and snap into a frenzy.
A rut.
Much like our esteemed king, it would seem.
Healers have long whispered about the violent states of arousal alphas could supposedly experience around omegas. Our knowledge is theoretical these days, but allegedly, such episodes were common once upon a time. The only solutions were confinement or, of course, access to an omega.
Which is obviously not an option, now. Not with Sofi.
Not with the human, I internally correct.
“I won’t bind her to me in any way,” Zolkan persists. As hard-horned as ever. “She is not—she is not my—”
“Mate?” I finish when he chokes on the word. “Yes, I know. If she were, and you’d left her side as you did, you would be in extreme pain right now.”
The corner of Zolkan’s mouth twitches, a touch of mania gleaming in his dark irises. “Well, thank the gods I’m not dealing with that, then,” he smirks darkly.
Sick bastard.
How can he relish the fact that he’s mateless? And how, despite that fact, he refuses to breed the only being on the planet who might still be able to bear him a pip?
“Sire, I must insist you Present her,” I go on, losing patience. “She must be claimed. Publicly. Since you have no plans to bond with her, a Presentation is the only shield we can offer her from the danger she faces by virtue of her very existence here.”
If any of these sap-skulls had bothered to ask my opinion before launching this brilliant plan, I would have told them as much.
How could they possibly think reintroducing our planet to omegas—to one single omega—would end in anything but bloodshed?
Now Zolkan won’t even offer her the protection of a public claim?
It’s stupid.
We have every cause for concern. I nearly tore Rask limb from bloody limb when I smelled his musk mixed with Sofi’s sweetness. And I am the sanest of us all.
Clearly.
Zolkan swirls his brew, staring into the glimmering liquid. I expect more denials. Instead, he rasps, “Did Rask care for her? You’re certain she’s okay?”
Unfortunately, I am. The compulsion to return to her chamber once I’d sated myself was overpowering. I went back and held my breath just long enough to confirm she was still in her bed, tangled in half-shredded sheets that positively reeked of long-gone Rask.
None of his mettle got on her skin, though. I found it alarming that I could tell the instant I set foot in the room. Then I spent the dizzying, airless charge back down the hallway wondering why he resisted.
Knowing I wouldn’t have been able to do the same.
Even now, with the faintest strains of the omega’s scent clinging to my fur, my throat feels thick and my palms tingle.
“Yes,” I confirm. “She is well. For now. But if we don’t act, her safety will be short-lived, Zortaire. You and I both know that.”
Zolkan meets my gaze again. His eyes shift with a profound sort of understanding. One I’m not sure I like.
“Aye,” he finally concedes, hoarse. “Then we will make a plan.”