Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
CILLIAN
H eat suppressants.
Goddamned heat suppressants.
Even though the chemical alterants to prevent a heat cycle have never been outlawed outright, the supply is strictly controlled and tracked. In some circles, the use of heat suppressants is considered the ultimate taboo.
More extreme Alphas think they’re no different from abortifacients. Though let’s be honest, the average Alpha knows as much about Omega biology as a tree stump.
I don’t know which is more surprising, that she had the balls to ask or that Logan agreed to let her have them.
The purple-haired Omega piqued my curiosity the moment she walked through the palace doors a year ago, even though I hoped we’d never see her again. Her presence is a problem that we don’t need. Logan knows it, even if he couldn’t resist the urge to bring her under his thumb.
Managing his baser urges might be the greatest struggle of my entire damn life.
“When was your last heat?” I ask, hoping her answer is measured in weeks.
“About three months ago,” Maya huffs, sounding out of breath. “I usually get them every season though, so I’m coming due.”
I don’t bother slowing my pace for her, though one of my long strides is equal to at least two of her own. If it’s a struggle for her to keep up, she doesn’t utter so much as a squeak of complaint.
When I glance behind me, she keeps her head appropriately bowed and her eyes downcast as she hurries after me through the harem.
The perfect picture of Omega compliance.
What a joke.
“You can’t be more specific than that?”
Her lips thin in a frown. “I don’t keep a calendar.”
I scoff, not hiding my disdain. “I would have thought someone who stayed unbonded this long would have a more precise system in place.”
She opens her mouth, likely planning a snappy response, but shuts it again without saying anything.
But I see the shine of defiance in her eyes that she can’t hide.
Whatever force compelled her to come back here must be a powerful one, but it isn’t enough to transplant her personality. There isn’t a naturally submissive bone in this girl’s damn body.
Just one more thing that explains Logan’s persistent interest, though this would be easier if her natural resistance was the full extent of it. The dirty secret about Omegas that Alphas are usually too dense to get is that no Omega is naturally submissive. Their submission must always be compelled or forced, otherwise Alphas would lose interest.
No predator wants their prey to just lay down and die. Without the chase to confirm your place at the top of the food chain, what’s the point?
Despite the king’s edict, Logan signing a mating contract with any of these Omegas is a bad idea. But this girl represents more danger than even he realizes. It isn’t just that Maya is beautiful. Plenty of Omegas are beautiful. She is too well-trained, too smart and too willing to bend without breaking.The longer she stays around, the more likely that she’ll see something she shouldn’t.
The back of my neck itches just thinking about it.
I open a nondescript door. While technically a bedroom, the space is barely large enough for a metal frame twin bed, a dresser and a simple wooden desk. A single bare lightbulb hangs from the center of the room, providing just enough illumination to hit all four of the bare walls.
Even jail cells usually have windows, but the harem has to remain secure. No ruler of Melilla has ever cared if his whores had access to natural light.
“This is where you will sleep,” I inform her. I watch for the look of disappointment, but she merely nods in response with the same neutral expression she wore throughout our negotiation. Rattling her is going to be more difficult than I assumed it would be. “I hope you weren’t expecting to stay in the prince’s royal apartments.”
Like the other Omegas is the part I leave unspoken, though she has to be smart enough to pick up on the insult. The harem is for betas and now the Omegas not worthy of a permanent place.
Maya blinks once, but provides no other physical reaction. She steps inside and peers into the small closet. It already has a handful of plain dresses hanging in it, sourced from the harem’s storage. The bag full of meager belongings she brought with her is already on the bed.
“I’ve found it unwise to have too many expectations. At least I get a room by myself. That’s nice.”
I find that response unreasonably annoying. Stashing her in the harem is an insult, almost as much as the ludicrous contract she just signed. Any other Omega would pitch a fit right now, demanding a room with a view and private bathroom, at least.
A growing part of me wants to slap that serene look right off her face.
“You’ll be expected to report to Logan’s quarters promptly at 8am. A guard will escort you, but you are responsible for ensuring that you arrive promptly. You will return to the harem at 10pm.”
I continue to detail her grooming standards, clothing restrictions, and behavioral expectations. She doesn’t so much as bat an eyelash at any of it.
The rules are deliberately restrictive, expectations higher than for any other Omega who has stepped foot in the palace. There is no way she will be able to follow them without screwing up somewhere.
We’ll see how long she sticks around after the first time Logan punishes her.
I know Poe has taken it upon himself to learn her secrets. He was just an idiot to think that threats will work. Protecting Logan is both a duty and a compulsion, so I agree we need to figure out what brought her back here.
But we need to maneuver around the walls she puts up, not go straight for tearing them down.
I finally get the reaction I’ve been waiting for when I instruct her to strip.
Her eyes go wide, even as one hand drifts to play at the zipper along her side.
“Are you going to step outside?” she asks, the slightest quaver in her voice.
I give her a humorless smile. “I am not.”
Her gaze flicks to the open door behind me. I watch the wheels turning in her eyes as she decides whether to ask me to close it, at least.
With the smallest sigh, she bows her head and reaches behind her for the zipper.
Smart girl.
The dress opens around her like a butterfly’s cocoon. Only the arm she holds over her chest as a shield keeps it from falling down completely.
She hesitates again, risking one last glance at me in the hope of a reprieve that isn’t coming. I don’t give her so much as an inch. Responding to orders without further prompting or hesitation is one of the rules. If she is already going to fail at that this early, then what’s coming next will be even more painful for her.
The dress cascades to the floor like a golden waterfall, pooling around her feet. Pale flesh shines even in the unflattering yellow light of the florescent lightbulb.
Her arms instinctively curve around herself, shielding as much of her body as possible from my view. One arm presses hard enough against her chest to create seductively rounded globes of the flesh still on display. The opposite hand splays wide over the mound between her thighs, but isn’t large enough to conceal a shock of purple hair between her fingers.
I wasn’t expecting the urge to come over me, but I can’t fight the sudden desire to see all of her again.
“Remove your shoes.”
Maya attempts to comply while keeping herself covered. She hunches more than half over, using one hand to frantically pick at a heel strap while the other remains valiantly crossed over as much of her body as she can reach. She does an admirable job of shielding the important bits from my view.
When she finally stands again, arms still crossed protectively over her body, I raise a mocking eyebrow.
“Put your arms down,” I command.
A single inhaled breath. Then both arms fall mechanically to her side. The gooseflesh peppering her skin is a mismatch for the fire in her dark eyes as she tips back her chin to meet my gaze.
Now there is the defiance I’ve been waiting to see.
My gaze drifts down from her face, lingering on hardened nipples that are a dusky shade of rose. The bend of her waist is more extreme than Logan typically favors, her stomach practically concave where it meets the prominent jut of her hipbones.
“Too thin. You look like you haven’t eaten in a week,” I tell her, though I probably shouldn’t be offering advice. It isn’t as if I want Logan to like her. “You need to plump up. Omegas are supposed to be good breeders. ”
She mutters something too low for me to hear.
“What was that you said?”
Her cheeks turn a ruddy pink. “Nothing.”
“If it’s worth saying once, then it’s worth saying twice, so spit it out. You won’t like what happens if I have to ask again.”
“I said…Omegas are supposed to be people.”
Note for the future, her tongue gets significantly looser when she has no clothes on. I need to remember that.
“You, Omega, will be whatever the fuck you’re told to be.”
A crestfallen look briefly flashes across her face. For a second, I almost feel a moment of remorse. This girl doesn’t deserve the hell that Logan plans to put her through.
In the next moment, she has wiped any emotion from her face. She raises her shoulders and arches her back, forcing her tits forward so they look like two perfect dollops of cream topped with dark cherries.
It’s a classic submissive pose. One that was probably drilled into her at the Enclave with the tip of a cane strike for any part of her body that fell out of perfect alignment while being assessed.
Any sympathy I might have for her evaporates. This girl has been trained to manipulate, and she knew what she was getting into when she signed that contract. My first and only true duty is to protect Logan, and I need to remember that. The sooner we can chase her away, the better.
“Let’s go,” I bite out, not hiding my annoyance.
A white robe hangs in the closet. I make a warning noise when she reaches for it and her hand pulls back as if she’s been burned.
I wish I could take a picture of the look of shock on her face when she realizes I want her to follow me out of the room naked.
There will be so many more opportunities to humiliate her.