Gold Sector (Drakon-Clan #1)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

TALIANA

Follow the rules.

Play your part.

And whatever you do, don’t look up.

My father’s words reverberate in my head as I try to heed his advice. Moons, it’s hard. There’s so much energy in this room. So much Alpha hunger. My knees yearn to bend, my desire to kneel an intrinsic need that threatens my every step.

Breathe, I tell myself.

Only, that makes it worse.

There are so many competing scents here.

Ash. Pine. Peppermint. Charcoal. Copper. Earth.

I swallow, my fingers curling into fists as I fight the urge to submit more than I already am.

My fate depends on how I’m received here today. How much the Gold Sector Prince feels I’m worth. If he matches me with a Drakon Alpha, then my father will be welcome here, too.

But if the Gold Sector Prince rejects me…

My eyes nearly close at the thought. I can’t finish it.

This is my only chance for survival. The alternative is worse than death.

More scents curl around me as I move deeper into the room, and I seek out the only one that offers me some semblance of peace. The kiss of the ocean.

It clings to my father’s skin, reminding me of home.

If only I could go back there. To a previous time. A previous ruler. A previous… everything.

My limbs shake. Stop thinking, Tali, and just… walk.

The cobblestone is cool against my bare feet, my thin dress doing nothing to protect my body from the chilly throne room. Everyone is silent. But their auras are loud. Powerful. Intoxicating.

I’ve met Alphas before—my father is one, too—but I’ve never felt energy like this. Sizzling. Burning. Enchanting.

Gold Sector is in the heart of Drakon-Clan territory. An island of dragon shifters. Renowned Alpha traders. Possessing a world of secrets.

How my father managed to procure an audience with the Royal Court is beyond me.

I knew better than to ask questions.

All I can do now is try to pay him back by proving to be an Omega worthy of a Drakon Alpha mate.

“State your name and designation,” a deep voice booms as I arrive at a gold star etched into the floor. It’s exquisite. All sparkles and glamour. If I weren’t currently the center of attention in the room, I would consider kneeling to stroke the intricate edges of the design.

Instead, I focus on the words still echoing throughout the oval space.

Such a commanding tone, I marvel, nearly dizzy from it. Definitely an Alpha. Maybe even the prince himself.

Clearing my throat, I keep my gaze on the ground as I reply, “Taliana Embers, Omega.”

“Obviously,” the voice drawls. “An Omega from where? What are you?”

I bite my lip, wincing at the hint of irritation in his tone.

Of course he doesn’t like me.

I’m a mutt.

A nomad Omega of mixed origin.

Unworthy.

Unwelcome.

Sectorless.

“Obsidian Sector,” my father interjects before I can speak. “She’s my daughter.”

“And you are?” The boredom underscoring the masculine tone makes me shiver. He’s obviously unimpressed. But I suppose that’s better than being annoyed or angry.

“Alpha Keegan, Drakon origin.” That last part is uttered with reverence, suggesting pride in his Drakon soul. If only I’d inherited his Drakonian traits.

Instead, I’m more like my mother.

A mix of Omega genetics.

An experiment.

An abomination.

“Hmm, I see. So your daughter has Drakon blood inside her.” The voice sounds slightly more intrigued now. But I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.

The hairs along my arms dance as the air shifts, a slithering sound whispering across the cobblestone. I fight the urge to close my eyes as it nears, the overwhelming scent of a raging campfire tickling my nostrils with every inhale.

Remember the rules, I repeat to myself. Don’t move. Don’t react. Don’t. Look. Up.

Clawed feet step onto the star, the golden scales nearly blending into the pattern below it. Only, the shimmer is too alluring to be mere metal. It’s glittering. Magical. A Drakon Alpha in his dragon form.

So rare. So beautiful. So utterly majestic.

His warmth overwhelms me as he steps closer, his breath stirring the loose hairs framing my face. He’s big. Huge, even. I don’t need to look up to know that. It’s evident in the way he’s encompassed all my light, cascading me into this perpetual shadow as he inches closer.

Flames and burning wood are all I can smell now, his scent so intense I begin to feel faint.

Breathe, I coach myself. Just… just breathe.

Except every inhale makes my knees shake that much more. I want to bow. To kneel. To supplicate.

His presence is too overbearing. Too overwhelming. Too consuming.

I stop breathing as he presses his snout to my head and inhales.

Oh, Gods…

My father warned me that the Alphas would circle me. Touch me. Maybe even taste me. But his vocal preparations paled in comparison to experiencing a dragon’s nearness.

It takes considerable effort not to flinch. To remain utterly still. To let this beast evaluate my presence.

“And what is it that you hope to accomplish today, Alpha Keegan? Why did you request this meeting?” The voice uttering the questions matches the one from earlier, confusing my senses.

I originally assumed the owner of the voice had shifted into the dragon before me. But it seems this Alpha is someone else entirely.

So who is the Drakon Prince? I wonder. The one issuing inquiries or the dragon?

“I hope to offer my daughter as a potential Omega mate to whomever you deem worthy of her,” my father says, his words expected.

What isn’t expected is the masculine chuckle that follows. “You think we need Omegas?” Humor underlines the query, the owner of it becoming known as Voice in my head.

“I know you do,” my father replies without hesitation. “All Alphas need Omegas.”

“Yet you want to sell yours?” Voice counters. “If Omegas are so important, why would you want to barter something so precious? Is she defective?”

I nearly wince at the word, my heart skipping a beat in my chest.

The dragon huffs against my hair. It takes everything inside me not to react as he lowers his snout to my neck and inhales deeply.

“My daughter is not defective. She’s a hybrid breed, beautiful, and powerful in her own right. If you give her a chance—”

“A chance?” Voice interrupts, a hint of mockery coloring his tone. “Why the fuck should we give you or her a chance?”

“I’m a Drakon Alpha. My daughter has a right to be considered,” my father says, patience underlining each word.

Patience I recognize. He’s never been one to unnecessarily lose his temper, unlike other Alphas I’ve known.

My father chooses reason over using his fists, and it shows now as he adds, “All I desire is for you to evaluate her as a potential mate.”

“In exchange for what?” Voice presses. “Compensation?”

“Protection,” my father corrects. “For Taliana.”

I almost frown. That’s not what we discussed. My father needs resources to survive on his own. Goods to trade. A way to make a living in the nomad lands of this world.

“And?” Voice demands.

“All I care about is my daughter’s safety. I want to see her properly mated, then I’ll leave.”

I can no longer fight the urge taunting my mouth, my lips curling down. What are you talking about? I want to ask him. You were hoping to exchange my mating for gold. He told me that. Confided in me his desires. Why isn’t he telling the truth now?

“Hmm,” Voice hums as the dragon steps back from me with a grunt.

That sound doesn’t give me positive vibes.

He no doubt smelled my mixed heritage. Realized I’m not a true dragon. Discovered my inner wolf.

My shoulders fall, hopelessness engulfing me.

The wolves won’t take me.

The dragons won’t either.

Only the abominations of Obsidian Sector want me.

And they don’t want me for kind reasons.

They—

“Take her away for evaluation,” Voice says sharply, his words shivering down my spine with thunderous authority. “And escort Alpha Keegan to a waiting suite. Once we’ve properly evaluated the Omega, we’ll determine if she’s worthy of a match.”

My blood runs cold. I know what evaluation means. Obsidian Sector was notorious for them.

Pain tolerance.

Knot threshold.

Heat cycle.

I shiver. My father saved me the night before my first scheduled session, the experience one that still gives me nightmares. His urgency. His fear. His command to follow.

We ran hard. Fast. In a blur of darkness.

Then he gave me my first suppressant.

A pill that became my weekly regimen for three years.

Until last month when I took the final dose.

Will the Drakonians find any lingering effects in my blood? I wonder as two Alphas flank me, their scents making me dizzy all over again.

Suppressants are typically considered illegal among Alpha kind. They don’t like Omegas masking their true natures. But it was a necessity for my father and me to survive in the nomad lands.

If I hadn’t run out of pills, we wouldn’t be here today.

“You need an Alpha who can keep you safe,” my father told me three weeks ago. Then he announced his decision to present me to the Gold Sector court.

I fought at first, determined to find another way.

However, the fight was short-lived.

Because what choice do I have? I’m an Omega. I will go into heat. My first one, too. And it will be soon.

Better here where an Alpha might claim me as a mate than in Obsidian Sector.

Or worse, in the nomad lands.

Although, those last two seem like rather similar fates in my book.

“Omega,” a deep voice says, drawing my attention to the male on my left. I nearly meet his gaze, then remember where I am and who I am and instantly drop my focus to the ground.

“Is there a problem, Omega Taliana?” Voice asks, a hint of irritation lurking in his tone.

Moons. He must have said something while I was reacting to the news regarding my evaluation.

Clearing my throat, I reply, “No problem, Alpha. Er, Your Majesty?” The formal address comes out awkward, as I’m not even sure Voice is the Gold Sector Prince. But who else could he be?

A long pause follows, one that causes the hairs along my arms to dance.

Someone clears a throat—Voice, maybe? It sounds close to me. Loud. A bit harsh. I wish I could lift my head.

“Go with Savan,” Voice demands, his words underlined with impatience.

I nod on impulse even though I have no idea who Savan is. I hope he’s one of the two Alphas flanking me because I move as they turn and follow them out of the throne room.

When Voice doesn’t call after me or shout another command, I marginally relax.

Then I remember where I’m heading, and my shoulders stiffen once more.

An evaluation.

My father warned me this would happen. It’s all part of the Omega verifying process.

“They’ll be a lot less intrusive than the Obsidian Sector Alphas,” he told me. “I wouldn’t let them take you if I didn’t think this was the best option, Tali.”

I believe him.

Or I want to, anyway.

But the lingering scents of fire and ash in the air do little to dispel my nerves.

Nerves that reach a boiling point as we step into an elevator made of gold and head downward.

My fingers curl into fists as the sensation of going underground crawls across my skin, the chill instantly chasing the warmth of being closer to the sun.

By the time the golden car stops, I can hardly breathe. It’s suffocating down here, walking amongst the beings of death.

Wolves thrive above ground.

At least, I do.

Beneath the surface, I can’t feel the stars. The moon. Inhale the sky.

A palm touches my lower back, urging me out of the elevator. There are words exchanged between the two Alphas, but I don’t hear them. My heartbeat is too loud. And my footsteps resemble concrete blocks hitting the marbled floor.

By the time we reach the examination room, I can barely see.

It’s all just white.

Sterile.

Reeking of bleach.

I close my eyes and try to focus, try to be a good Omega, to leave a decent impression behind and try to win a Drakon Alpha mate.

This isn’t just about me, I remind myself. It’s about Dad.

He may not have mentioned his desire for gold, but I know he needs it. Which means I have to pull myself together and do this for him.

I steal a deep breath, my nose curling at the stench of cleaning supplies.

You can do this, Tali.

I force my eyes open and take a step inside the small room.

You can do this.

My wooden legs move with a stiffness I feel through every inch of my being.

Just a little more.

I reach the examination bed and note the paper dress waiting for me on top of the white sheet.

“Strip and put on the gown,” a gruff voice says from behind me. “Doctor Taylor will be with you momentarily.”

The door slams behind me with a finality that leaves me shaking in the too-quiet room, the sound of a lock twisting into place solidifying my fate.

There’s nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. My days as a free Omega have officially come to an end. And the evaluation is about to begin.