Chapter 3
THORIAN
The scrying crystal pulses with heat as I focus my power through it, watching Dr. Maya Nakamura work alone in her cramped laboratory.
Her scent comes through the magical connection—virgin omega, untouched and ripe, with an underlying sweetness that makes my cock twitch despite the distance between us.
"Magnificent specimen," a voice whispers through the shadows.
I don't turn from the crystal. The voice comes from everywhere and nowhere, carried on currents of magic that slip between worlds. "Lord Oberon."
"Such a delightfully broken little thing." The ancient spirit's presence fills my study like cold starlight. "Sister's betrayal cut deep, didn't it? See how she hunches over her work, trying to disappear into research because men find her inadequate?"
Through the crystal, I watch Maya adjust her microscope, her small hands moving with precision that makes me imagine them wrapped around my shaft. "She's brilliant."
"She's damaged. Perfect for your needs." Oberon's spirit manifests in the shadows beside my desk—translucent, ancient, beautiful in the way only the long-dead can be. "Seven graves in your memorial garden, and yet you hesitate with the eighth candidate. Why?"
My jaw clenches. The memorial garden is visible through my window—seven marble headstones marking seven failures. Seven women who trusted me and died screaming as magic consumed them from within.
The prophecy promised eight bonds would save us all.
Kaelen succeeded first, claiming his diplomat and proving human women could survive transformation.
Aratus followed with his heiress, showing that omega enhancement was possible for mortals.
Now I'm third in the chain, with five more courts watching to see if the pattern holds.
If Maya fails, the prophecy dies with her. If she succeeds, she becomes the foundation for everything that follows.
"Perhaps because I prefer my omegas to survive the claiming."
Ghostly laughter echoes through the room. "Since when? You've been prepared to sacrifice candidates for centuries. What makes this little scholar different?"
I don't answer because I'm not sure myself. Watching Maya work with such dedicated focus despite being ignored, seeing the quiet strength in her posture, something about her calls to parts of me that have been dormant for ages.
In the crystal, Sarah enters Maya's lab, heels clicking against linoleum. I lean forward, my body responding as Maya's scent grows stronger through our magical connection. Virgin. Untouched. Ready to be awakened and claimed.
"Look how she responds to her sister's presence," Oberon's spirit murmurs, his form flickering like candlelight. "Shame and longing warring in those lovely dark eyes. She knows Sarah took her first love, knows she'll never measure up, yet still craves approval."
The conversation between the sisters unfolds exactly as planned. Maya's defensive posture, her flash of pain when discussing academic recognition, the way she unconsciously touches her chest when talking about being forgotten.
My cock hardens as I watch her vulnerability, the way she tries to hide her desperation for recognition. She'd be so grateful for attention, so eager to please an alpha who valued her intelligence.
"Fae-affiliated research academies," Sarah says, delivering the line we scripted for her months ago.
Maya's pulse quickens—I can sense it through the scrying magic, can almost taste her sudden spike of interest and fear. "I'm not interested in becoming another omega research subject."
"Delicious," Oberon breathes, his ghostly form growing more solid with anticipation. "She knows exactly what trap she's walking into, yet she'll take the bait anyway. The hunger for recognition will override every survival instinct."
"She's not stupid," I growl, surprising myself with the possessive edge in my voice.
"No? Then what is she?"
I watch Maya's face as Sarah explains the invitation, see the war between hope and terror playing across her features. She wants this opportunity desperately enough to risk everything.
"She's mine," I say, the words coming from somewhere primal and territorial.
"Ah." Oberon's spirit smiles with ancient knowing. "The great King Thorian develops feelings for his sacrificial lamb. How... inconvenient."
Through the crystal, Maya picks up the papers Sarah left behind, her fingers trembling as she reads through the invitation. Even from a distance, I can sense her arousal—not sexual, but the deep feminine satisfaction of finally being wanted, finally being chosen.
It makes my shaft throb with need.
"The other candidates never affected you this way," Oberon observes, his spirit drifting closer. "Isabella Dreamwalker was beautiful, brilliant, everything Maya is. Yet you felt nothing when she died screaming."
"Isabella was Fae. Maya is..." I pause, watching her trace the elegant script with careful reverence. "Different."
"Human. Virgin. Untouched by any alpha's hands." Oberon's ghostly voice drops to a purr. "Tell me, Your Majesty—when you claim her, when you split open that tight little pussy for the first time, will you be gentle? Or will you make her scream the way the others did?"
My control snaps. Power flares around me, making the scrying crystal crack, ancient magic responding to the territorial rage burning through my veins. "Enough."
"Struck a nerve, did I?" Oberon's spirit seems delighted rather than intimidated. "You want to protect her. How fascinating. The transformation magic requires absolute trust—difficult to achieve when you plan to lie about the risks."
"I won't lie to her."
"No? Then you'll tell her about the seven graves? About the odds of survival? About the way power consumption feels as it burns through virgin flesh?"
In the crystal, Maya stands and walks to her window, staring out at the darkened campus. Her reflection looks small and vulnerable, but there's steel in her spine that calls to my alpha instincts.
"She deserves the truth," I say finally.
"The truth will send her running. And you need her too desperately to allow that." Oberon's spirit begins to fade, becoming translucent again. "No, you'll seduce her first. Make her fall for you so completely that she'll risk anything to keep you. The claiming bond will do the rest."
"You speak from experience?"
Something dark flickers across the spirit's ancient features. "I speak from necessity. Your court dies without her. The prophecy requires willing sacrifice, not informed consent."
"The prophecy demands eight bonds," I say, watching Maya through the cracked crystal. "Kaelen succeeded with his diplomat. Aratus claimed his shipping heiress. Six more courts await their turn, and all of them are watching to see if human candidates can survive what Fae women couldn't."
"Precisely." Oberon's spirit grows more solid with approval. "Two bonds forged, six remaining. Each success makes the next more likely. Each failure..." He gestures toward my memorial garden. "Well. You understand the consequences."
"Maya won't fail."
"Bold words for someone who's lost seven candidates already.
" The spirit drifts closer, his ghostly presence chilling the air.
"Tell me—when Lord Aratus shares his techniques for breaking human resistance, when Prince Kaelen describes the exquisite pleasure of claiming virgin flesh, do you picture Maya in their place?
Do you imagine her screaming for your cock the way their omegas do? "
My shaft throbs at the image, curving and seeking a wet heat that it's nowhere near. "Maya is different—"
"Maya is the third human to risk the transformation. The third chance to prove that mortal women can become what we need them to be." Oberon's voice grows colder. "The other alphas succeeded through dominance and control. Perhaps it's time you learned from their example."
I have nothing to say to that.
"Send the invitation, Your Majesty. Make her want you more than she fears death. The way Kaelen made his diplomat crave his thorns. The way Aratus made his heiress beg for ice." Oberon's spirit begins to fade. "Two bonds forged. Five courts watching. Don't be the one to break the chain."
Alone again, I stare into the cracked crystal where Maya still stands at her window. My cock aches with the need to claim her, to show her exactly how precious she is, how valued.
Seven graves in my memorial garden. Seven women who trusted me and died.
But Maya won't be the eighth. I'll make sure of that.
Even if it means choosing her survival over my court's.
The hunt has begun. And this time, I intend to keep what I catch.
I close the scrying connection and call for Captain Sage. "Send the invitation. And prepare the guest chambers."
"Your Majesty?"
"Make sure they're perfect. Our little scholar deserves better than a laboratory to die in."
The words hang in the air like a promise. Or a threat.
Either way, Maya Nakamura is about to discover what it means to be truly wanted.
Whether she survives the experience remains to be seen.