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Over our heads, Scourge snarls, telling my mate to do as she’s told and obey me. Any Omega that receives snarls from her Alpha’s dragon should be whimpering and promising to do whatever he asks. Isavelle merely glowers at Scourge in annoyance and turns back to me with folded arms, inadvertently pushing her breasts up. Her green eyes are sparking with defiance.
“Then you’ll have to lock me up in chains because I’m not going to agree to that.”
She’s so lovely.
Lovely andinfuriating.
I grind my teeth together. How long is this going to take? Where’s my good little Omega who will always do what her Alpha asks of her? Wholovesdoing what her Alpha asks of her? It’s supposed to make her a panting little mess to do what pleases me.
I scrub my hand over my face, smothering a growl. The gods have proclaimed that she’s the mate that I need, and I’m the mate she needs. If this is hard now, it must be for a reason.
I want her to find her family. My mate deserves every happiness, and I’m not afraid that she’ll abandon me when she finds them. Once her designation emerges, she won’t want to leave my side.
I take a tress of her hair and draw it up to my nose, inhaling deeply. I smell frustration. I smell fear. I smell those fucking Brethren who put their hands on her. Last night she seemed to react more when I told hergood girl, and today her scent is richer than usual. Could it be that something is beginning to stir in her at last? Or am I just being hopeful?
“A compromise,” I tell her, keeping her silky hair close to my face and stroking it with my thumb. “You may go out into the city while the sun is up.”
“Thank you,” she says pertly, pulls her hair out of my fingers, and turns to go, her cute little nose in the air.
I catch her gently by the arm and pull her back toward me, my mouth twitching as I try not to smile. Tiny as she is, she has so much spirit. “I haven’t finished yet. You may go out, but you’re taking bodyguards with you. And I’m choosing your bodyguards.”
“People who can spy on me for you?”
I shake my head. “They’re to protect you. Not tell tales to me about you. Think of them as your new heavily armored friends. I’ll choose two soldiers who were under the mountain with me, so you can ask them everything you wish to know about Maledin as it was before.”
Isavelle considers this. “I can still talk to whomever I want and go wherever I want?”
Yes, Alpha, thank you, Alpha. A man can dream. “Within the city, yes. I’m trying to keep you safe, not lock you up. Is that agreeable to you?”
Isavelle nods, but her eyes fill with sadness. “You say I’m not a prisoner, but you don’t seem to be giving me much choice, Zabriel.”
She pulls out of my grip, and I reluctantly let her go. There’s an ache in my chest that she still thinks of herself as my prisoner, and a horrible thought occurs to me. What if she never stops feeling that way? What if she hates being an Omega?
Her designation means she’ll be looked down on by everyone, even as the Flame King’s mate. People will assume that she’s a pretty ornament at the best of times and a scared waif at the worst, and Isavelle has proved to me a thousand times since we met that she’s not either and she would never want to be. Will she feel disgusted with herself that she suddenly craves my touch? Will she hate the breathless, wet, messy Omega instinct to cling to her Alpha and beg for his affection and attention? I want that from her so fucking much, to bond with her and feel how much she trusts me to protect her and care for her. To lavish her with kisses, make her come, protect her from the world, and make her mine, mine,mine.
The ache in my chest grows even fiercer. I don’t know what I’ll do if Isavelle rejects me. I may as well not be the Flame King, and instead step aside for another Alpha who has won the trust of their mate.
I put my hand on Scourge’s flank, sending him my gratitude that he protected her. Scourge makes a low sound in response and takes off in a gust of wind.
I follow Isavelle back up the road to the castle, aware that everyone is staring at Isavelle, the petite girl in the maid’s dress, walking fast, and me, the Flame King, striding after her. We don’t make quite the pretty picture today as we did yesterday when she was in my lap.
At the castle gates, Isavelle hurries through a doorway and disappears inside. With a gusty sigh, I head to the wingrunners barracks, intending to sort out the matter of Isavelle’s bodyguards immediately.
At the sparring grounds, I see two Betas dressed in the black and silver uniforms of the wingrunners. Wyverns are remarkably versatile creatures that are ridden like horses but can also take to the skies and attack from the air. They’re ferocious in battle, and though they’re not as powerful and destructive as dragons, they’re nimbler and more versatile.
This pair, a man and a woman, are sparring with halberds, a pole weapon topped with an axe blade and spike that can be used from wyvernback.
They’re both lightning fast as they train, and they’re laughing and chatting between bouts. It must be nice being a Beta. Someone else will shoulder the worries and responsibilities.
I lift my chin and call out to them, “You two. Come here.”
“Yes,Ma’len,” they say, straightening up and hurrying over to me, and stand to attention with their halberds gripped in their right hands.
“What are your names?”
“Fiala,” the woman says.
“Dusan,” replies the man.
