“I’m sure you can finish from here,” he said and now those terrifying eyes were chill, a wasteland of nothingness as one corner of his mouth quirked along with a single brow, gaze sliding over Aida.
Too stunned, too full of that something that screamed for release from its cage, Aida could only stare back. Quivering with the remaining tension she watched him swagger from the room, entering her bed chamber with an air of supreme dominance.
Sinking into the water with trembling lips and wishing for numbness, she could not fault him for it. He was her new master, and she was his to use as he saw fit. He accomplished what Otaso never had, and she felt far filthier than the scum remaining tangled in her hair for it.
Chapter 5
Er’it
It tookher an age to come out of the crude bathing room. Hair a sodden mess, velvety eyes red rimmed and lower lip trembling, she was somehow more pathetic than the weak creature he’d found in the dungeons. It also took every ounce of his will not to go to her purring like an idiot to soothe away the tight lines around her eyes and mouth.
Either that or fucking her into the wall. Ruining every inch of that innocence with his thundering calls and the thickness of his cock sliding into the wet heat of her. Knotting her until her high screams echoed over the valley and well into the hills.
Not mounting her like a cheap whore in the bath had been far more difficult. Though he hadn’t done so well with that. Er’it still didn’t understand why it had bothered him so. He should have taken her then and there, just as he’d intended. It didn’t matter if she smelled of fresh and clean things to take what he wanted. He was the king of hundreds of thousands and conquered whatever he set his eyes to. Yet the moment the heavy scent of roses had teased his nose, he’d become enraged. Making her wash with his soap, covering her in the bite of cedar and herbs. His scent, and the only one she would wear from now on other than the cold sunshine of her own intoxicating fragrance. He could still smell her on his skin, driving him mad with every breath as he lounged with casual authority in the space so imprinted with her the very stones cried her name.
An Omega. He still had to breathe through the shock of that, the thought tingling through his spine, straight into his cock. Even with the violence of his actions explained, it continued to baffle him. The old tales and stories somehow true, sane men driven to crazed acts over the scent of one. No wonder the Black Mage coveted her so, though it made little sense why he’d offered her to Er’it as he had.
The bitch of a maid waited behind him beside a wardrobe. They’d found her hiding in the ruins of the west wing, the lone remaining servant who had tended his little Omega. His anger at the Beta was only a little less than the rage pointed at himself. A tight cunt, no matter who it belonged to, did not deserve this level of interest from him. This one in particular had her purpose, and while he would use the Omega’s body as he saw fit before all was said and done, he needed to keep a tight rein on these ridiculous outbursts.
It was the sheer novelty of it that entranced him so, nothing more.
Shoving up from the chair, he snapped his fingers at the maid. Directing her to dress his Omega before he threw her onto the bed and began enacting the disturbing thoughts racing through his head. Measured strides carrying him around the room, he ignored the rustle of silks and lace, trying in vain not to imagine all that glorious skin being hidden away. She had her purpose, and he needed to see this through with a clear head for now.
The heavy books and dusty tomes he’d pored over while the delicate beauty recovered said a great many things, all of them contradicting each other. The one thing all those ancient ones could agree upon was that the ripeness of youth, hanging in the most delicate of balances with true womanhood, was the moment of absolute power. When it could be snatched away, taken into another’s hands to control.
They also said the Omega needed to return to her place of power. Something Otaso failed to do, which had somehow caused the destruction of his altar, his own place of power. It was the only explanation for the state the great mage had been in when Er’it stumbled upon him in the ruined wing. One look at the Omega said she was not from Aeslomor. Not with that glorious skin holding the warmth of the sun, the rich russet tones of her curling hair. She lacked the rough, hard features of its people, everything about her soft and rounded. So performing the necessary rite anywhere else was out of the question. If Er’it wanted to find the peace of a worthy victory, he would first have to find where the Omega came from.
Thoughts of the Black Mage, of the Omega, brought the anger back in full force. All of it lying on the narrow shoulders of the bitch haunting his every moment.
She was the one who stole his moment of promised peace. Somehow weakening Otaso to the point he’d drained the dregs of his reserves, she’d left him a dry husk for Er’it to find after two days of rest and several sacrifices. They’d found the bodies stacked like cordwood, each one drained and shriveled, yet even that hadn’t helped. Omegas had no power of their own, even in the children’s stories, so how she accomplished it remained a mystery. Now, no amount of fleecing the castle and conquering its people soothed the rift within his soul at being denied the battle he’d waited so long for. By a slip of a thing, no less. So fragile and weak he could snap her neck without a thought.
Tasting bitter ash on his tongue, the same velvety darkness of her eyes swelling inside of him, he turned to bark an order for this Omega, thisAida, to begin making her reparations to him. To get on her knees and grovel before him as he took these frustrations out on the body that sang for him to use it in any way he wished.
Er’it drew up short when he found her doing just that. Blinked several times to be sure of what he was seeing. Not a simple curtsey as Tor’en advised him these people did in obeisance, she was on her knees with the simple folds of a pale green gown spread out in a sweeping bell around her. Head bowed, the wet strands of her hair black against the fear blanched pallor of her skin, she cowered before him with hands clasped at her waist. The very picture of servitude.
On a volatile wind, dusty and blistering, hatred and arousal coiled through him. Disgust close on its heels, murky and black as it sucked at what remained of his heart, he wasn’t sure if it was for her or himself. He couldn’t deny he liked her there. Liked it very much indeed as he came closer to look down at her with head canted. Inspecting the fragile veneer of her quiet, insidious darkness welling, wondering how far he could push her before she snapped, becoming true terror. If he’d enjoy her screams just as much as the hushed sounds she’d made in the bath.
Tucking her chin in the cup of his fingers, Er’it lifted her face to his. The pout of her lips red from where she’d worried it half raw, she kept her gaze hidden from him. Coy despite the way she’d writhed against him in the water. At his quiet rumble, the long length of her lashes snapped wide, meeting his gaze with a delicate shiver Er’it felt down to his very soul.
“You know who I am,” Er’it asked, craning her neck back. Baring that vulnerable line of her throat. How dare she be this thing that made him want her so? Controlling him with his cock as no woman had ever done.
Not daring to respond, she gave a twitch of denial. The starry blackness of her eyes turning misty, clouding the brightness of her gaze as she glanced away. As if to steel her will against what might come next for not having the knowledge at hand. Er’it had no doubt the one before him chose that path often. Too docile by half, this was a female accustomed to being used. All the more reason for Er’it to do as he wished.
“I am King Ver’it’athi Ina'nal'is,” he said, pulling himself from his thoughts. Hid his smile at the way her brows snapped together at his full name by shoving her chin away and turning to the windows he’d had opened. Airing out the last traces of the Black Mage from the rooms, leaving it fresh and full of the Omega. “You belong to me now. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
A breath of a whisper, he would have missed it had he not been straining for another taste of her voice. There was far more that he wished to taste, but the hour grew late. Darkness descended in these valleys earlier than they did on the endless sands. Muffling his sigh of irritation that he wouldn’t be able to torment his prize a little longer, he turned on a heel and stalked towards the outer door. His snap at her ear as he passed made her flinch, but she rose and hurried after him as if she knew what he expected of her. Er’it found himself wondering how much of this she’d performed for Otaso, trailing behind him with eyes downcast, kneeling upon the floor. Taking his cock against her back…
The thunder of his growl became a tempest, echoing through the murky staircase to pummel against his ears. Mocking him for his jealousy and anger both. Snatching the Omega’s arm, refusing to give her a name in his mind, he hauled her alongside of him. Careless of her tripping skirts and her hushed whimpers as he all but dragged her to the remains of the great hall where his people awaited him. Ready to celebrate their victory and impending departure both. Something he hadn’t yet told the Omega. He would have quit this place long ago if not for her. Yet another layer of filthy mire coating his thoughts of her.
Er’it ignored Endi’s wide eyes and gaping mouth, the craggy lines marring Ath’asho’s familiar face as he pulled the Omega behind him up onto the dais. Shoving her into the seat next to his so hard she started to tumble off the other side before she caught the edge of the table. Crashing into his seat, he watched from the corner of his eye as she dragged herself up with wide eyes flitting around the hall. All the color gone from her soft face, she curled around herself, a tight ball that tried to hide in plain sight as every eye turned towards her. Scrunching her eyes shut, she huddled deeper into the seat, something about the act enraging him all the more.
Disturbed that he wanted to bend her over the table and fuck her for all to see his claim upon her as much as he wanted to hold her and calm these ridiculous fears, he slammed his fist on the table to begin the feast. The sooner it was done with, the sooner he could figure out just what it was he planned to do with her.
“Majesty are you sure this was wise,” Ath’asho murmured at Er’it’s shoulder before taking his seat.
Er’it lifted his lip in response, a snarl he gave voice when the Omega startled, flinching hard from the serving girl who froze in the act of pouring wine. Trembling russet gaze sweeping from Er’it to the Omega, she finished as fast as she could before hurrying down the table. It was no better when the Omega squirmed and mussed the folds of her dress, gaze fixed upon her worrying hands as if they were the whole of existence. Continued to do so even when Er’it pulled the goblet closer to her, knowing a bit of wine would ease her nerves. He’d go insane if he had to watch her do this all night.
