by Sara Fields
“Why have you taken me hostage?”
“We have our reasons. Some of them you may learn. Most of them you likely won’t. You see, I have my doubts regarding your trustworthiness and loyalty. Do you want to know why?”
“Why?” I snarled.
“I’ve seen you before, Ariana. It took me some time to realize where, but I remember now. You weren’t always a king’s omega. You used to be a scullery maid, didn’t you?” the Prophet began and my blood ran cold.
Did they know who I was? Did they suspect that the Brotherhood had sent me? Did they know my father?
I swallowed every last question and locked them away deep in my soul. I would die here, lost and forgotten if I gave anything away.
I lifted my chin, waiting for him to continue.
“I’ve seen you walking the halls of Valgertha. You used to serve Queen Freya. That bitch of an alpha queen is someone that has been extremely problematic for us, so you can understand my rather immediate suspicion of your appearance in my castle,” he added. I didn’t have to read between the lines. Everything about his body language screamed danger and certain death if I wasn’t careful with what I said next.
On high alert, I leveled my eyes with his. I had years of training for this. I was the daughter of one of the most influential secret organizations in the world. Before I was done with this bastard, I would have him eating out of my hand.
“There’s something else I want to talk about. I looked a bit more into the day you were captured and found it quite interesting that it also happened to be the same day that the city of Ravenrath was sacked by the Brotherhood,” he continued.
I tensed, keeping my lips in my firm line so I gave nothing away.
“You see, that makes me highly suspicious of you in particular,” he said darkly.
I didn’t say anything yet. I wanted to know everything he knew about me first. He would show his hand before I showed him mine.
He reached for me, pushing the neckline of my dress just far enough over my shoulder to reveal Magnar’s mark on my skin. It had long since healed over, just leaving a white scar that sent a very clear message that I belonged to an alpha. He traced a finger over top of it and the mark blazed hot for a long moment before he pulled away.
“When we gave you to Magnar, we expected him to use you just enough to blow off steam. We hadn’t expected him to claim you like this,” he muttered. “Your position complicates things.”
“What’s your point?” I pressed.
“An omega makes an alpha weak. It shifts his loyalty from us to you, and then it can become a problem,” he murmured.
“A slave goes where she is told,” I answered as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
His hand disappeared into his robes for a moment before it reemerged with a horrific-looking dagger. He slipped the sharpened point right beneath my chin. I tensed, lifted my chin and he pressed the blade a bit more firmly against my throat.
It was just on the cusp of cutting my skin. If he pushed any harder, it would slice right through me and I would bleed out onto the floor.
“How did you come to be in both cities, Ariana? It seems like quite the coincidence,” the Prophet asked carefully. His irises locked with mine and I felt that I couldn’t look away. It felt like he was drawing me in.
I cleared my throat. In my time alone, I’d prepared myself for this moment and I recited the story I’d invented during the long walk from Ravenrath to Kingsworth.
“I served an alpha within Valgertha’s army. He captured me in the wilds long ago, tearing me away from my family. He brought me to Ravenrath with him once news of the battle broke and I ran from him only to be captured by the lot of you,” I explained. I never looked away from him. Not even once. My life and the life of so many others depended on it.
“Is that true?” the Prophet asked. His eyes remained on me as he slid the knife down until it settled right at the hollow at the base of my throat. The feeling of the tip of it was sharp and I knew that I had to put on the show of the century if I wanted him to believe me. I had to be perfect.
“Every single word,” I lied flawlessly.
He moved the knife so the edge of the blade slid perpendicular across my throat. All he had to do was jerk his arm just once and my life would end.
“What was your alpha’s name? And why didn’t he mark you for himself?”
I’d expected questions like this. He would want details.
“His name was Czar. And he only stole me because he wanted to. He’d already taken another before me, so I was nothing more than just a servant to him,” I answered.
“Why did he want two omegas?”
The edge scratched against my naked flesh, ever a reminder that I could do nothing to stop him if he decided that he didn’t believe my story. I didn’t back down. I didn’t let the threat of the knife distract me for even a second.
“It makes something of a statement to have two omegas obedient by your side, doesn’t it,” I replied, adding in a snarl for dramatic effect.
“What happened to Czar?” he asked.
I grinned menacingly, mimicking a sense of pride in order to make the next part believable.
“I killed him. I was hiding in the castle when your people captured me,” I responded accusingly.
“How did you kill him?” he pressed.
“We’d breached the walls of Ravenrath, and he’d forced me to come along to fight beside him. It’s something he’d made me do before. I refused once and he hit me enough times to make sure I never did it again. I was sick of it and this time, I saw an opportunity and I took it. He didn’t expect me to turn around and slit his throat with the very sword he’d given me to protect his own back,” I spat.
“If you were free of him, why didn’t you run?”
“The battlefield was dangerous that night. It reeked of blood and death. With the castle abandoned, I’d thought to hide there until I could get out safely. You found me before I could do that,” I answered, allowing a grimace of regret to paint over my features.
My performance had been impeccable.
For a long while, he just continued to study me, and I was left wondering if he was going to kill me, just leave me here to die, or allow me to live to see another day. I could read nothing into those beguiling irises and the longer he stared at me, the more I had to remind myself not to tremble under his ire. I stayed strong and refused to give in, and when he finally turned away and pulled the dagger away from my throat, I had to swallow a sigh of relief for fear it would give me away.
The Acolyte stepped forward next. The Recruiter just watched, not saying anything at all.
The three of them felt powerful, but there was no question that both men answered to the Prophet. He was the one in charge here. The Acolyte cleared his throat.
“I have been informed that you asked to be set free into the wilds in exchange for your assistance,” he began.
“Yes. I just want to be released from captivity. First Czar and now Magnar, there is nothing more important to me than my freedom. I want out,” I whispered vehemently.
“I think I’m going to have you be the one to slip the poison into his cup,” he murmured, and I lifted my chin at the challenge.
“Will it make him suffer?” I asked.
He chuckled and cocked his head. He knew I meant the king. We both did.
“Would you back out if he did?” the Acolyte asked.
“Not even in the slightest. If it did, I might be even more willing to offer my services,” I smirked, and he tittered with amusement.
“That’s the kind of passion I like to hear,” he answered. Even though his face was hidden behind the mask, I could tell he was smiling by the way the corners of his eyes crinkled harshly.
“I am satisfied with her answers. The Recruiter and I will take our leave. Do what you will to make sure that she’s telling the truth, Acolyte,” the Prophet declared.
My panicked heartbeat quickened just a tiny
bit.
“What will you have me do?” I asked the three of them. The Acolyte was still just staring at me and it was making me incredibly uneasy. He didn’t notice the way my muscles were tensing. For a long moment, my mark seared red-hot and I had to grit my teeth in order to bear it.
“When the time comes, we will tell you,” the Prophet answered for the others. He didn’t say anything more as he turned and left the room, effectively ending the conversation before I was ready for him to.
The Acolyte moved in front of me and I stiffened, seeing those brown eyes zero in entirely on me. They were chilling in their intensity.
I really didn’t like that.
“I still think you’re hiding something and I’m going to be the one to pull it out of you,” he muttered dangerously and that’s what I noticed that the Prophet’s dagger had exchanged hands. The Acolyte angled it so that the edge began to tear through my dress, and I braced myself for what came next.
He had the knife now and we were all alone.
I had a feeling this was about to go really poorly for me.
Pinned to the wall, I couldn’t do much else other than stand on my toes to relieve the terrible ache in my wrists. I couldn’t arch away as he sliced through my clothing. I trembled as he pushed the fabric aside, revealing my naked belly and then my breasts. I didn’t like the way he stared at me like a piece of meat after that.
I started to feel nauseous.
My nipples hardened in the gentle breeze.
He slid the dagger in between my breasts, leaving a small welt behind. It wasn’t enough to cut me, but it still hurt all the same. With one hand, he reached for me and I pressed my back against the wall, trying to arch away from him as much as I could.
“I’ve got nothing to hide,” I snarled.
“So you say. I still don’t know if I believe you,” he answered. Unexpectedly, he reached for my right wrist and slid the key into the lock. It opened with a clank and as one side of me was freed, I yelped as the muscles in my right arm roared back to life. The blood rushed to my fingers and my arm tingled before it began to prickle with hard flashes of pain. I shook it out as much as I could and looked at him through narrowed eyes. He didn’t reach for my left wrist. Instead, he just watched me as I teetered back and forth, off balance and unsure of what terrible dangers were to come.
He made quick work of the remains of my dress, tossing it to the floor in tatters when he was through. He pulled the knife away from my skin and I visibly relaxed.
But not for long.
He growled.
I doubled over and cried out, searing agony cutting through my core.
His sound simply incited pain. It did not invoke desire like it did with Magnar. This was different. This was cruelty.
“You see, Ariana, I don’t need to slice open your flesh to hurt you. You’re an omega. I’m an alpha. You are bound by nature to answer to me,” he snarled.
“But I am marked by another,” I retorted.
“That only makes it worse for you. All I need to do is make a single sound over and over to torment you. This is what happens when an omega is separated from her alpha and finds herself in the captivity of another,” he said, his voice gruff and incredibly arrogant.
“I’ve done nothing to deserve this,” I snarled.
I needed to defend myself. I tried to curl my left hand inward, making it as small as possible so that I might slip it out through the metal cuff. I was able to slide it out just a little bit, but I couldn’t get it all the way. I needed leverage and I couldn’t do it with him watching me like this.
The Acolyte growled again, and I groaned with the piercing ache that sprang to life inside my belly. I keeled over and a fierce streak of panic rattled through me before I forced myself to look back up at him.
There was a certain amount of unhinged derangement in his eyes as he towered over me, as if he just wanted to cause me pain until I gave him what he was looking for. That wasn’t all I saw either. It soon became very clear that he was enjoying this. If anything, he was probably getting off on it and a jolt of terror made my blood run cold.
Without the others here, he might just kill me.
He reached between my legs. He cursed when he didn’t find what he was looking for. He growled even more fiercely than before and I cried out with my suffering, but unlike with Magnar, my slick didn’t pour down my legs. There was no arousal pumping through my body. Only pain and fear.
Nothing else.
This hurt so much.
The Acolyte didn’t know that I was willing to die in order to keep what I knew secret. So many lives depended on my silence, Magnar’s included.
Magnar.
My bond pulsed hard and I could feel him on the other side. My breath caught in my throat at the intensity of his emotions. There was terror and anger and panic all in that single pulse and it caught me off guard.
Our connection vibrated several times between us, and I grasped onto it with a desperate hope. I could feel that Magnar was closing in on me and I held onto that with everything in me. I called out to him, hoping that he could feel my need and that he would come when I called for him. I needed him to find me.
It was only a matter of time now. I could feel it.
My heart started to pound. His emotion poured over me like a warm rain and then I heard him.
The door slammed open and Magnar seethed just inside of it. If he had been focused on me, I would have been afraid, but his gaze was leveled on the insane Cultist at my side.
I watched him take a deep breath before he opened his mouth and began to speak.
“You took my omega without my permission,” he snarled. The Acolyte moved to my side and once again the hard edge of a blade pressed against my skin. I was his hostage now and he wanted Magnar to know it.
“We believed she was hiding something, and you were too soft to see it,” the Acolyte answered, a certain amount of vitriol apparent in his tone. “I’m still not convinced she isn’t.”
“Acolyte, you and I both know that I carry more power than you within the Cult. I don’t need to be hooded and masked for you to know that,” Magnar warned and the Cultist stiffened beside me. The knife pinched my skin a little bit deeper and I had to keep still with every last bit of strength left inside me.
“I took matters into my own hands because you’ve grown soft with her. With her, you’re weak. You’ve grown too attached. Someone else needed to intervene,” the Acolyte spat.
“I see. So, you thought ignoring your superior and your king was a wiser choice than just coming to me with your concerns?” Magnar pushed.
“The Prophet and the Recruiter share my sentiments,” the Acolyte scoffed.
“And what lies did you make up to get them to believe you?” Magnar spat.
I got the distinct feeling that these two had a long history of vying against each other. The harsh contempt on Magnar’s face said it all.
“I’ve always had a bad feeling about you, Acolyte. Always worrying about your own power when you should be focusing on furthering the Cult’s,” Magnar glared.
“I will never understand why they chose an outsider like you to take the crown. Only someone Kingsworth-born should have the right to be king,” the Cultist snarled.
“If you were king, the city would have been sacked by the Brotherhood already,” Magnar said stiffly.
“Fuck you,” the Acolyte snapped.
“All those years ago, I should have just left you to rot. The Serpent thought you were a liability, and I should have listened, but I thought you would prove more useful to the Cult alive. I know now that I was very wrong,” Magnar replied.
The Cultist snarled with fury. The knife’s edge faltered against my skin.
Who the fuck was the Serpent?
The energy in the room was thick. As an alpha, Magnar was physiologically programmed to protect me from another. I was in danger and that would invoke very deep primal instincts within him. Dangerous instincts that would pu
t the both of us in peril.
“I didn’t fucking need you. I would have saved myself,” the Acolyte muttered viciously.
“The fates would have taken you if I hadn’t helped you that day. You would have died in the castle’s underbelly, all alone and entirely forsaken, you fool,” Magnar answered just as savagely.
The Acolyte seethed before he pulled the blade away from me and stepped toward Magnar. He paced back and forth, never taking his eyes off my alpha in the process.
Things were escalating. Fast. And I was still held prisoner in chains. I had to get out.
I turned and used my right hand to push against the hard metal cuff. It was tight enough that I still couldn’t pull my left hand out. Even when I curled up my fingers as small as they could go, my knuckles wouldn’t slip through. I pulled hard anyway and had to stop when it hurt too much. Any more pressure and I feared that I might break a number of bones in my hand.
Magnar and the Acolyte had begun to circle one another. Almost as if the Cultist could sense that I was trying to escape, he growled so loudly that I couldn’t bite back my scream of agony. I lost my balance as my belly cramped so fiercely that I wasn’t sure whether or not a knife had actually scoured into my flesh. As I struggled to breathe through it, Magnar answered with a savage roar of his own.
I lifted my head only to see Magnar flying straight for the Acolyte. He didn’t have a weapon. He didn’t have anything but his fists. The Acolyte snarled and whipped the long dagger out in front of him. Magnar just narrowly jumped out of the way of the sharpened edge before he rushed forward once again.
His elbow lashed out, knocking the Acolyte’s cheek so firmly that his head snapped backwards. The man stepped back and recovered far too quickly for my liking.
With a quick pivot, he lurched forward in Magnar’s direction. He swung the knife with a cold swiftness, catching my alpha off guard. The blade slid across his cheek and a thin line of blood followed in its wake. He roared and arched backwards, ensuring that the dagger didn’t cut too deeply.
