by Sara Fields
He sidestepped and the two of them circled each other.
Both willing to fight to the death.
I feared that Magnar wouldn’t be the one walking away.
Becoming more desperate, I pulled my hand harder until the agony was too much. I screeched and still the two men clashed.
I watched with wide eyes as they fought. Every time Magnar would land a strike, I would clutch firmly onto hope that he would prevail and when the Acolyte caught him with the knife, those same hopes would be dashed into what felt like a pile of ash swept away by the wind.
I had thought his robes would hinder the Cultist, but they didn’t. His movements were fluid and well-trained. Each time he sidestepped Magnar’s advances, I could see it. It was as if he could anticipate Magnar’s attacks.
That made me even more nervous.
Magnar rushed at the Cultist with unbound fury. He was reacting solely on instinct now. He was quickly becoming more and more reckless with every round and it was beginning to show. His face was writhing with fury and his teeth gnashed together in a tight grimace.
The Acolyte seemed to be prepared for when Magnar would step to the side and lashed his foot out at the last moment. Magnar flew forward and slapped his hands down, catching himself before his face crashed into the stone floor.
The Cultist bounded on top of him, covering his large form with the fabric of the hooded cape. Magnar couldn’t get any leverage to push him off his back and the man took advantage as he swung the blade forward and pressed it against my lover’s throat.
Magnar stilled instantly, but he didn’t hold back the savage roar that spoke to his wrath. The Cultist’s eyes wrinkled with amused arrogance and I desperately pressed against the metal cuff still holding me captive.
I wasn’t getting out. Not without oil or something to ease the way.
I froze.
“Growl for me, Magnar,” I pleaded. “Growl for your omega.”
I begged for him, over and over. I never stopped.
Magnar paused and his angry eyes slipped to me despite that blade digging into his throat.
At once, my alpha roared. His anger, his worry, and every other emotion under the sun slammed into me with such force that I cowered even as my core twisted hard in on itself. My body pitched forward as agony tore through me from the tips of my toes all the way to the very ends of my fingers. I screamed and my core twisted harder, but then a rush of slick dripped down my thighs.
“Again,” I beseeched him.
I didn’t know if he realized what I was doing, but it didn’t really matter.
He growled for me again and even more of my slick soaked my legs. With panicked desperation, I slipped my hand between my thighs, not to pleasure myself but to use my wetness to escape. I coated my free hand and hurriedly spread it across the skin of my trapped one. I did this over and over until my fingers were just as slick as the flesh of my legs.
In a panic, I pulled as I squeezed my fingers together, making my hand as small as possible. My slick allowed my hand to slip a little further. I pulled harder and even when it started to hurt more than I thought possible, I kept pulling. Soon enough, I screamed as my first knuckle slid through and then another.
All at once, my hand was free.
I cried out as a rush of pain jolted up my wrist. With trepidation, I uncurled my fingers and the pain intensified for several terrible moments until it finally began to fade.
Nothing was broken. I was okay.
Magnar’s fury redirected in the Acolyte’s direction. He’d managed to unseat the Cultist by flipping to his side, making the man crash into the floor at the unexpected maneuver. At close range like this, it appeared that Magnar had the upper hand. He was a little bit bigger and he could use that strength against our enemy. They grappled with each other until Magnar managed to get ahold of the knife.
He raised his hand and made a movement to stab downward with the blade when the Acolyte punched his forearm hard enough to derail Magnar’s attempt to kill him. He didn’t stop the blade from cutting him though.
The blade angled and bit deep into his right arm. I heard him roar with pain and I had difficulty finding any mercy for him. The dark stain of fresh blood billowed outward onto the sleeve of his scarlet cape.
He didn’t let that slow him down.
Instead, he bucked hard, grabbing Magnar around the waist and slamming him down on his back. Then he grasped my alpha’s wrist and twisted it hard enough to force the point of the knife toward Magnar’s chest.
There wasn’t enough time for me to stop it.
I hurtled forward, going ice cold as I watched the dagger slip into Magnar’s chest. The bond flared so terribly hot that I stumbled from agony. I forced myself up, putting one foot in front of the other, but I was too late.
The Acolyte put all his weight on the handle, pushing the dagger all the way in before he flew up and rushed to the other side of the room.
I didn’t see him slip out the room. I had eyes only for my alpha.
The door slammed and I knew he was gone.
It didn’t matter.
Crushing fear rattled me.
Magnar wasn’t moving.
Distraught, I reached him and dropped to my knees, not caring that they would probably bruise because tomorrow no longer mattered.
I could feel his pain. I could feel every last agonizing breath.
With extreme trepidation, I pressed my fingers against his chest, hoping against hope that his heart was still beating. The wet warmth of his blood was the most terrifying thing I’d ever felt, but I needed to know.
There it was. The pulse was weak, but it was there.
I cried out, panicked and I only vaguely recognized that my own cheeks were wet with tears.
It didn’t matter.
Only he did.
My terror intensified as he groaned with pain.
I pressed my forehead to his shoulder and sobbed harder. His breath was starting to slow down and become more irregular with every passing second.
“Ariana,” he breathed and the rattle in his voice sent me into a cold panic.
“My omega,” he murmured.
“Shhh, don’t speak,” I cried out, my eyes bleary through my tears.
“That’s not all you are,” he groaned.
“Please, don’t,” I sobbed even harder.
“You’re my sigma, Ariana. I need you,” he whispered.
I froze.
“You know what you need to do, sigma. Do it,” he commanded and everything in me rose to answer.
I grasped the handle of the knife and pulled hard. It came out with a sickening wet sound, but I did my best to ignore it. Without thinking, I cut into my wrist and held it over him, allowing my blood to drip down into his open wound.
I expected it to hurt, but I felt nothing. The only thing I wanted was to save my alpha. He needed me and I was going to give him everything.
The Cult had discovered that I was not just an omega. I was a sigma and that came with a certain set of abilities that I hadn’t known I possessed. My blood could heal a wound. It could make someone live longer or even make them stronger.
I had to save Magnar. It was the only thing that mattered now.
I sobbed as my terror consumed me. At first, I thought the Cult had just made up the fact that I was a sigma. Maybe they’d just mixed up the samples and I wasn’t what they thought I was. Maybe I was broken. Maybe this wouldn’t work and all the things about sigmas were just myths that perpetuated throughout history.
Maybe they’d been wrong.
His breathing was ragged.
His blood was pooling beneath him.
My fear raged on. Sobs racked me from within and the painful tearing of the bond as he slipped away from me was too much to handle.
I wailed. I squeezed my fingers tighter. I gave him more blood.
A brilliant white light began to glow and for a long moment, I thought I was going to die along with him. Had the Acolyte retur
ned? Had he killed me too?
Magnar coughed.
The bond billowed outward with warmth.
His breathing deepened, each one wet and ragged and terrible. The light brightened and I pressed my head against his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat weakening.
My sorrow was too much.
The weight of the world crashed down on my shoulders and I bowed under its terrible force. My grief made me cower, it was so painful.
Maybe I would die from the severing of the bond. Maybe that’s how it was all going to end.
His heart slowed until…
Until it stopped.
The seconds wore on, each one a horrifying eternity that crushed me from within. I felt my love wither into excruciating agony.
I hadn’t been enough.
I sobbed so hard it was hard to breathe. My tears blinded me, and a screaming sound surrounded me.
It hardly registered that the wailing was coming from my own mouth.
I collapsed against him, not caring that his blood was stark against the paleness of my skin.
It was over.
He stopped breathing with a soul-crushing wheeze.
This couldn’t be happening.
I couldn’t take it. I’d just found him and now I’d lost him. Together, we had failed, and the Cult had won. Maybe we’d been destined to fail from the start?
It hurt so much.
My mind stopped, unable to string together any words aside from cries of pain.
This was loss.
I could only drown in it.
It was all I could feel.
I sobbed.
My alpha was gone and all I knew was screeching pain. I screamed through my agony and then the impossible happened.
His heart started to beat once more.
One.
Then two.
And then for a third time.
I swallowed air. My own heart pounded at a frantic pace.
His chest rose. He sucked in a breath and I froze. I pushed against his chest, needing to see. His hard eyes met mine, full of warmth and love and everything I’d ever wanted. With one breath after another, the paleness in his face receded. His heartbeat strengthened with each passing second, as did my hope.
I blinked through my tears and pushed back, tearing my gaze to the open wound that the Cultist had inflicted.
Only…
It wasn’t there anymore.
In its place was a single narrow scar, pale white against the tanned skin of his chest. Almost in disbelief, I reached out to touch it, not believing it was real and praying that it was. His clothing was still soaked with his blood, but he was whole.
My alpha was whole.
My alpha was alive.
My sobs turned from grief to stark relief. His arms curled around me and with a soft whimper I crawled closer to him. His chest pressed against mine. He held me and I clutched at him, terrified that if I let him go, he would disappear as if he was a figment of my imagination.
I could have laid there with him for hours and maybe I did. The blue sky turned dark outside, and I didn’t care. He was alive.
We’d made it. Together.
Chapter 14
Ariana
It took time to convince myself that I hadn’t dreamed the whole thing. The longer I lay there with him, the more convinced I was that his breathing was steady and that he was still mine.
It wasn’t until the light of the moon shone through the window that he took my hand in his and beckoned me to follow.
The two of us finally slipped out of the tower room in the middle of the night. I refused to let go of his hand because I was afraid that I might lose him. His fingers curled around mine as if he felt the same. We escaped to the safety of his chambers and he didn’t put me in my room. Instead, he brought me to his bed.
“You will sleep with me tonight, my little sigma,” he murmured, and I shuddered hard.
“Yes, Alpha,” I breathed softly, and he picked me up. Gently, he deposited me on the mattress and I slid underneath the covers. He followed and I curled into his strong form.
I was still naked with his drying blood on my skin, but that didn’t matter. I clutched onto him with everything left in me.
Exhausted, we slept until late in the morning. The servants brought us breakfast, and neither of us wanted to let go of the other in order to get up and eat it. Eventually though, my stomach growled angrily, and he chuckled with amusement. I whined when he unfurled his arms from mine, but when he climbed out of bed, I was rewarded with a view of the hard muscles of his backside. I watched him as he put together a plate for me to eat and brought it back to me, picking up a piece of cheese and pressing it to my lips.
“You will eat,” he commanded.
I opened my mouth immediately and bit into the cheese. I chewed and swallowed the small bite, before he fed me another.
“Magnar,” I breathed.
“Shhh, my beautiful angel. You took care of me and now I am going to take care of you,” he said firmly.
I didn’t argue.
“I just wanted to say that I love you, Alpha,” I whispered, and his finger traced my cheek.
“I know, beautiful. I love you too, Ariana. More than you’ll ever know,” he answered, and my heart swelled. “Now be a good girl and open your mouth so your alpha can finish feeding you breakfast.”
He fed me every last bite off that plate. I ate it all. To be honest, I wasn’t sure when I had eaten last and I was starving. When I finished off the meats and cheese, he fed me some deliciously ripe berries one by one. After I was through, I gently grasped his wrist and brought his fingers to my lips. I licked them hesitantly at first and he smirked knowingly before I started to suck them clean.
He groaned.
“Ariana,” he warned. “Careful. Keep teasing me and I’m going to have to put you over my knee,” he added with a purr.
I smirked, making a popping noise with my lips as I pulled back and released his finger from my mouth. He chuckled and plucked me out of the bed, squeezing me a bit tighter than usual. He carried me in his arms into the bathroom and prepared a hot bath for me, slowly lowering me down into the warm water when he was ready. I knew that he wouldn’t take no for an answer and I didn’t even try to fight him as he began to wash me himself. In an effort to make it easier for him, I reached for the shampoo and he gently batted my hands away.
“I’m going to give you a bath, my sweet sigma. You will be obedient and let me wash every inch of you without a fuss, do you understand me?”
“Yes, Alpha,” I whimpered, feeling a rush of desire and bliss settle deep in my core. I knew what would happen if I didn’t. I chewed my lip imagining it, but the feeling of his hands running along my skin was too intoxicating to ignore.
His hands massaged my scalp and I moaned, feeling the warmth of his touch deep in my soul. It was as if his fingers had been made for me and I sighed with happiness. My alpha was alive and once again, the world felt right. In that moment, I found myself at peace. I slipped away from the worries of the Cult and what might happen in the future. I lived in this single moment, my body encompassed by warm water and my alpha’s fingers on my skin.
His lips pressed softly against the top of my head and a fuzzy warmth floated through me. There was truly nothing better than this.
“You’re a very special little thing,” he murmured.
I blushed, not knowing what to say.
“Thank you, Ariana,” he added softly. I turned my head and gazed back into his loving eyes.
“I didn’t want to lose you,” I whispered, unable to hide the shake of emotion from my voice as I thought about what could have happened. Almost by force, I focused on the fact that I hadn’t lost him, that he was right here in front of me and the two of us were whole once more.
He traced his forefinger along my cheek until he cupped it just beneath my chin. Slowly, he drew me closer until his lips pressed against mine in a tender kiss that made my toes cu
rl. In its gentleness, it was incredibly possessive, and I was surrounded in its warmth. When he eventually pulled away, I found myself breathless and wanting. I didn’t push him to go any further though. He was in control, not me right now and that was comforting in its own way.
Without pause, he lifted me out of the bathtub, dried me in a fluffy towel, and brought me into our closet. He dressed me, choosing my gown and a pair of sandals with leather straps that went all the way up to my knees.
He gazed back at me with a certain consuming hunger and just as he was reaching for me, a knock sounded loudly at the door. With a reluctant sigh, he turned toward it and with several large strides, he opened it to reveal a male servant. The man looked nervous and it was clear to me that he hadn’t wanted to interrupt the two of us. It was likely that he hadn’t had a choice though.
“What is it?” he asked. There was a very slight hint of annoyance in Magnar’s tone as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. I didn’t know what he had planned for me, but it appeared it likely wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
“My king, the visiting ruler Erik seeks an audience with you,” the man said.
“I thought he’d left yesterday,” Magnar grumbled.
“The hand of the king invited him to stay a few days longer. I was not informed as to the reasoning, Your Majesty,” he answered.
“I expect that Neegan has planned out the next few days’ full itinerary,” Magnar groaned. He dragged his palm over his face, sighing quietly with frustration.
“I’m not sure, my king,” the servant replied anxiously and Magnar shook his head.
“I know. Thank you for informing me. I will be right down,” he answered. The look of relief on the servant’s face was more than apparent. He bowed his head and Magnar closed the door.
With several large steps, he strode back to me. He swept me up in his arms and captured me in another kiss that made my heart race and my core ache with need. My clit throbbed and I pouted petulantly knowing that there would be no time for the two of us to spend together for some time to come.
