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She opened her eyes, meeting the beast’s stare.
"This invasion is going to happen," he said. "You have the choice of how it happens."
There was truth to that statement. Dead, she was useless to her family and her people. Alive, they had a chance.
Her best option was misdirection.
How would he know if she was lying or omitting information? He’d done his research about the empire but if he knew everything, he wouldn’t have needed her.
Suddenly the scattered thoughts knitted together.
She had leverage. He was keeping her alive for a reason, she just didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was to use her capture to demoralize her people, but he could more effectively use her death to do that. Something didn’t make sense. He wanted something from her, and he was willing to keep her alive to get it.
She could use that.
Lifting her eyes, she was surprised to see he’d stepped even closer to her. She sucked in a deep breath, dragging air into her lungs which ricocheted pain around her body. “Do you intend to keep me chained to this wall if I help you?”
“You will be treated in accordance with your dynamic.”
Terror flicked to life. Was he intending to breed her? To sexually abuse her the way Omegas were used historically in the past? “What does that mean?”
His eyes searched hers. “You will be treated like an unwilling guest. A guest forced to be in my city and obey my laws.”
Her terror mellowed. It sounded like she might have a small amount of freedom to figure out how to escape and repel his attack.
"I will do it," she said, her voice quiet and hard. “Provided I am not touched by you or any of your men.”
He stepped closer, towering over her, and she lifted her head up, forcing herself to meet his eyes. The intensity in his eyes remained the same; it spread goosebumps up her arms, even though she was barely able to think properly.
In her haze-filled mind, her instincts told her that this man was the epitome of an Alpha; demanding, ruthless, clever, and physically capable. He was like the opposite to Papa—an anti-emperor—but with similar skills. The one who wouldn’t win, but would make a damn good effort. If Naya hadn’t been taken, Papa probably would’ve enjoyed the challenge, but now this man would have to die. And she would enjoy it.
The beast approached and his scent engulfed her, seeping into her nostrils, and drowning out all the other unpleasant odors in the air. Earthy and deep, it burrowed into her, developing into a heady richness, animalistic, complex musk. Unmistakably Alpha.
Her body responded. Nipples hardening, the tingle of her slick gathering between her legs made them tense, and the twist of arousal in her stomach sent a surge of horror through her.
The beast stared down at her, his brows inching toward each other as he studied her expression.
Naya’s breath shortened. No. It can't be. He cannot be!
“Your culture considers its word to mean something—to have honor,” he said. “I hold you to that standard. So you lie or mislead me, you will suffer. There are things worse than death. Do you understand this?”
Naya barely heard the words rumbling out of him. She watched his lips, fascinated by the sensuality of them—full, firm, and needing her teeth to bite down on them. Her nipples hardened the closer he got, and a hot flood of arousal so intense dulled the pain that had held her in its grip for so long.
With the relief from the pain came a sliver of clarity.
Her blocks had been removed. When did that happen? She hadn’t even considered her blocks wouldn’t work in a place where magic behaved so differently. They had to be disabled or gone, otherwise she wouldn’t have scented him. Not like this.
She stared up at him in disbelief. There was no denying who the beast was.
After years of searching for her true mate—the one who would help restore her ability to rule and care for her people. The mate who would continue the peaceful reign of her parents. The mate that Gramma said would protect and care for…. It was him. The beast intent on destroying everything and everyone she loved, even if he destroyed her in the process.
Naya sputtered, opening her mouth to say something—but everything in her told her to claim him, to lean her nose into his neck and breath deeper, to tell him he was beautiful and strong and… hers.
Naya swallowed the words, furious at how strong the compulsion was. By the time she glanced back up, the beast’s nose had flared wide. He could scent her. Even beyond the stench of her grime and sores and soiled body, he had to be able to tell who she was to him.
Buried within the striking intensity of his dark eyes an understanding beamed through, tinged with contempt, curiosity, and a gleam of something she couldn’t read. He snorted and turned away.
Naya watched him exit the tent, horror turning her pained breath cold. He hadn’t reacted to her the way her Alpha should. But he knew.
