Captive of the Alpha

by Laxmi Hariharan

  I wish I were strong enough to defy him, but every part of my omega core yearns to obey him.

  I may put up a token resistance, perhaps manage to be bratty with him on occasion, but I'll never be able to deny him.

  How am I going to keep him from abandoning me?

  Or worse, from dominating me completely, until my very personality merges with his. The hair on the back of my neck rises. I can't let that happen. Enough subservient omegas have warned me about how it is to give in completely to the alpha. They lose interest in you and hand you over to another...and I... can't let that happen.

  My only hope is to make my captor care for me, enough that he doesn’t destroy me completely. But how?

  He snaps his fingers and I raise my gaze to his face. "Wear your clothes."

  Without waiting for my response he steps into a fresh pair of pants, then shrugs on a T-shirt and a jacket.

  There's something strangely intimate about watching him dress. Yet with every layer of clothing that he pulls on, Kayden disappears. In his place, the alpha who'd kidnapped me knits back together.

  If the alpha senses my perusal, he doesn't show it.

  Sitting on the bed, he slides one foot, then the other, into his boots, and begins to lace them up.

  His movements are brisk.

  Every twist of his wrist, every curl of his fingertips aimed and focused at the task at hand. Exactly how he'd claimed me. With ruthless efficiency. He'd done it without a second thought. As if he'd been sure of it. As if it had meant nothing to him.

  Or perhaps his instincts had guided him and he had followed?

  He had marked me as his. That had to count for something, right? Only he'd never mentioned it, not once. Does he regret that? Maybe it didn't mean anything to him?

  I reach for my clothes and pull on the jeans, the shirt, the hoodie.

  The bedclothes?” I nod toward the sheets.

  “Marcus will wash them.”

  He glides up to his feet.

  Every movement of his is lithe, nuanced. For a cruel man he's almost beautiful. It's all a front for the dark heart he hides inside.

  He swivels his head to glare at me. “What are you waiting for? Need some motivation maybe?" He flexes his fingers and my breathing quickens. My toes curl. The hell? I shouldn't find that arousing, I shouldn't.

  I avert my gaze. Slipping on my sneakers, I tie the shoelaces.

  The silence stretches. A beat. Another.

  “Everything fits.”

  “They belonged to Marcus’ daughter.”

  “You knew her?” I straighten.

  His jaw hardens. "I did." His forehead furrows and the skin around his eyes creases. "She ran away when she turned eighteen." The chords of his throat move as he swallows, and for a second he looks vulnerable.

  "You haven't seen her since?"

  "No." He rubs the nape of his neck. "Marcus and I searched for her but there was not a trace of what had happened to her. Of course, when I asked my father to help, he refused. It was more important for him to keep his team focused on the betterment of his country." He scowls.

  "It's also your country."

  "Is it?" His lips twist; his features harden

  "Isn't it?"

  He glares at me and my throat goes dry. My thighs clench. This man—he can scare me and arouse me at the same time. That commanding look on his face, the arrogance that bleeds from his every pore... every angle of his body screams prime alpha male, and the feminine core of me instantly responds to him. And I hate that I am so aware of him. So ready to do his every bidding. When every part of me wants to resist him, challenge him so he doesn't perceive me as being compliant to his every demand.

  "Maybe she was kidnapped?"

  His face whitens. His left eyelid twitches.

  Don't say it. Don't. "Like you took me?"

  He rises to his feet to tower over me. "Think very carefully about what you say next, Omega."

  A thrill runs down my spine. All of my nerve endings tingle. Holy hell, why do I feel so alive when I go toe to toe with him?

  "Or maybe she doesn't want to be found?"

  A low growl rumbles up his massive chest and I wince. I want to pull back and cower. But I will not. I grind my heels into the ground and stay where I am.

  "Maybe you drove her away?"

  He takes a step forward. Anger leaps off of him in waves. The sheer dominance of his personality seems to amplify in that space and I almost cry out. All of the pores of my skin pop. My belly quivers, slick pools in my core, and his nostrils flare. Damn him for instantly picking up when I am turned on. And I am, and I don't understand why. I should run away from him, hide under the bed or something. Instead I raise my chin, "Maybe she is happy where she is?"

  "As you will be?" He peels back his lips and his teeth sparkle against his tanned skin. He lowers his head, closer, closer, until his eyelashes tangle with mine. Holy hell, is he going to kiss me? Do I want him to kiss me?

  I flick out my tongue to lick my lips.

  His gaze drops to my mouth.

  His shoulders flex; those massive biceps bulge. He is going to wrap those powerful arms around me and yank me close. My eyelids flutter down.

  "I never kiss my prey." He pats me on the head. "It's more fun to play with them."

  Cool air glides over my skin.

  I snap my eyelids open to see him sauntering toward the door.

  Jerk. My throat closes. Tears prick at my eyeballs. Clearly, he felt something for Marcus' daughter. Was he in love with her? Did he care for her? The band around my chest tightens. Why am I trying to engage him in conversation? Trying to reconcile the cruel alpha with the empathetic man I’d glimpsed when he'd taken care of me in the bathtub? That had been so he could take care of his property, as he’d mentioned.

  To think, I had actually considered he might have a kernel of empathy somewhere inside of him. I was so wrong. He knows how to manipulate, how to use my feelings against me. I should hold back, rein in this crazy attraction I feel for him. I raise my chin and head to the exit, “I find you repulsive.”

  He glances at me over his shoulder, “I’ll remind you of that when you are screaming to have my cock inside of you again." His amber eyes gleam, "And I won't stop until you are begging for your release over and over again, and even then, I won't let you come. Not until I have fucked your every hole, and every pore in your body is leaking my cum."

  My breath stutters.

  The picture he paints. Those horrible, filthy words.

  My thighs clench. My scalp tingles.

  Why do they turn me on so?

  He crooks a finger at me. "Come."

  My belly flip-flops, my pulse thuds, and my mouth goes dry.

  He cants his head and the force of his dominance reaches out to me.

  The very air seems to be saturated with testosterone. This man…his will is a living, breathing thing that clings to my skin, sinking into my blood, making me want to accept my base nature and ask him to take me, to put me out of my misery.

  Exactly what he wants.

  His lip curls.

  Fuck him, but he knows exactly how his words affect me.

  He saunters to the door and shoulders it open, “After you.”

  I keep my head straight, brush past him and to the staircase. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I quicken my steps toward the front door.

  “This way.” Marcus beckons to me from the opposite side of the room. “The back door. Best to go the other way.”

  “Right.” I cross the floor toward him and jam my hands into the pocket of my hoodie. “Th…thanks for the clothes.” I shuffle my feet.

  “You’re welcome.” Marcus’ features soften.

  I shiver, and he frowns.

  “You okay--?"

  No.

  Of course not.

  I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

  “Take care of yourself, little one.”

  I swallow, then stand up on tiptoes and hug him on impul
se. Marcus pats my shoulders.

  There’s a growl behind me, and I stiffen.

  Marcus ruffles my hair, then steps back. “Your mate is possessive of you.”

  I raise my head. “Not my mate,” I sneer, frowning up at him.

  His lips curve. “Don’t lose that spirit.” He bends down and peers into my eyes. “Never give up on what you hold most precious.”

  I frown. What does he mean? What’s the most precious thing to me? My parents? Myself... Kayden?

  My thoughts whirl. I walk around him toward the back door.

  When my next estrus takes ahold of me, nothing can stop the cycle. No drugs. Not the dominant commands of an alpha. l have Kayden to rut me…unless…unless he asks one of his men to do that.

  Nope…he’s too possessive for that.

  I am counting on the fact that he won’t trust anyone else to do what is needed. He won’t risk his merchandise, his bargaining chip, as he calls me. I am what he needs. Only he doesn’t know it yet.

  I am going to crack that alpha-hole façade of his, and he won’t realize what hit him. I am a breeder. I am conforming to my nature.

  We are geared to be attracted to the alphas with the strongest genes, the ones who’ll give our progeny the best chance at survival.

  Who better than the Chief of Scotland to father my children? I am only sticking to the plan nature laid out for me. Survival of the fittest, the fastest, the canniest. The pure bloodlines of my Russian royal family, and Kayden’s pedigree, yeah, can’t get better than that.

  He took my virginity, and I am going to make him give me the whole lot in return. Children, the position of an omega who belongs to one of the most powerful alphas in this region.

  Insane. Insane plan.

  This is the only future for me. For him to accept me. I can’t go back to Zeus. There’s nothing there for me, other than Lucy, but she’s my sister and an omega. She’ll understand what it means to want to find an alpha and a home of my own. I can’t go back to Russia; the Berserkers have taken over that country. No, this is the only course of action. To stand up to the alpha, to make sure he sees me as a challenge, enough to come after me, rut me…impregnate me…? The breath rushes out of me.

  Maybe once I am with child he’ll change?

  Surely, he’ll not want to let go of me then?

  Kayden prowls past me, out the door, then glares at me over his shoulder. “Get in the car.”

  Assuming I manage to survive long enough with him.

  13

  Kayden

  An alpha's thirst for power is only surpassed by his hunger for omega pussy. Fact.

  It has to be the explanation for how I lose control around her.

  I look over at the sleeping woman curled up against the car door. Her lips are parted. Her skin is flushed.

  Her eyelashes lie in a sooty fan against her soft cheeks. She’d walked to the car and seated herself without waiting for me. By the time I’d said goodbye to Marcus and started the vehicle, she'd shut her eyes.

  There had been a moment earlier when I'd wanted to kiss her. I bet she tastes sweet. Bet the mere feel of her lips against mine would turn me on more than having those lips around my cock. And isn't that a surprise?

  A hint of her and I'd be a goner.

  I'd never be able to tear myself away from her.

  I'd keep going back for more. Until I'd sampled every inch of her body, until I'd sucked on those nipples, kissed my way down to the folds between her legs. Until I'd bitten her right there and thrummed her clit and slid my tongue into her hot sweet pussy.

  I'd suck her juices, drink my fill of her slick, until her cum smears my mouth, drips from my chin, coats my skin and bleeds out of my pores. The way I want mine to drip from hers.

  My fingers tighten on the steering wheel.

  I'll eat her out until she whimpers and her breathing gets harder. Until she wraps those sleek thighs around my head, holding me in place; then I'll thrust my finger into her back hole and her entire body will stiffen. She'll scream and come all over my face; and I'll lick up every drop of her cum, right before I tear my face from her core and bury my dick inside of her.

  I've wanted to fuck omegas. But make love to them? Pleasure them? It's the first time I've wanted that.

  I want her to be aroused and throbbing for me until she is a dripping mess.

  Then I'll mark her all over, rub my seed into her skin until she smells of me...until my breath fuses with hers, my skin melds with hers. Warmth heats my chest, my dick throbs, my balls harden and I have to part my legs to accommodate myself. The fuck? I grit my teeth so hard that pain tears up my jaw.

  The woman's right next to me and I am arousing myself.

  I'm jizzing myself thinking of taking her again.

  She is dangerous. I need to get her out of my head. I need to find a way to break her hold on me. I thought I had kidnapped her? It's she who has taken me ransom.

  Good thing I’d procured a rope from Marcus and tied her to the door handle. Not that it makes her less of a threat. I snort under my breath. Being in the same space as her makes my dick twitch. My chest hurts, and what the fuck is up with that?

  She mutters under her breath, then sighs. My vision narrows, my biceps twitch. I glance at her from the corner of my eyes. I could reach for her, loosen her restraints enough to pull her across my lap. Massage that tempting backside, hold her down until her pussy makes contact with my aching dick. Only when the vehicle swerves do I realize that I have snaked out my arm toward her. Bloody hell. She's messing with my control. I return my hand to the wheel and right the vehicle.

  Why am I so tuned into her?

  Why do I want to own her?

  This need to possess her and ruin her? It's different. This is not what I want. I can't afford this distraction. Best to get back to my clan in Scotland and then? I'll hand her off.

  I'll turn my back on her and make sure never to see her again.

  I need to rut another omega as soon as I get there. A cold feeling coils in my chest. I don't want anyone else. It's her innocence I seek. It's the melting cradle of her pussy that I need. The warmth of her mouth around my cock is what I crave. Those little moans as she comes, that's what I want to hear. And those archaic insults she insists on flinging at me? I'd miss them.

  The smile fades from my lips. Why am I chuckling to myself? Why am I still thinking about her? She's softening me up, messing with my head. And it makes me uneasy. I run my finger inside the collar of my T-shirt, pulling it away from my neck.

  Enough messing around.

  I need to get back to my clan, as soon as possible. Get on with the original plan of trading her in with Zeus. I step on the accelerator and the vehicle leaps forward.

  For the next few hours I focus on driving. The countryside flashes by and dawn lights the skies. Not far now, we are almost at the border to Scotland. Silence fills the car.

  I turn to glance at her. She's so still hasn’t moved at all since we left. My shoulders bunch. Is she breathing? I lean across and hold a finger under her nose.

  Her warm breath flutters over my skin, and my muscles relax.

  Ridiculous. When was the last time I had felt so many conflicting emotions and all at the same time?

  I straighten and rub the back of my neck.

  I'd loved my mother and Marcus' daughter had been like another sibling to me. I hadn't been able to save either of them. When Adelina had disappeared, I'd helped Marcus search for her, but we'd never found her. I'd been a child when my mother had been murdered in front of me. Golan had taken me...had whipped me for days. Then he'd turned me over to his alphas to make me a man. I'd been too soft, he'd said. Too spoiled. I was a bastard and I had to be treated as such.

  Those alphas had not been easy on me. They'd beaten me and buggered me.

  I'd have died if my adoptive father hadn’t rescued me. Another reason I owe him. I must stay true to his legacy.

  I step on the accelerator, and the SUV speeds around a cu
rve. A screech from the tires slices through the thoughts in my head. I slow down, glance at my omega’s sleeping profile.

  The regal curve of her neck, the parted lips, the sooty fan of her eyelashes against the flushed skin of her cheek... I blink. The way she wears Adelina's clothes, they could be cut from the finest fabrics. There's a sophistication to her, an almost royal bearing. I frown. The sheath she'd been wearing when I had first spotted her... it was made of fine-spun linen.

  And she'd been a virgin.

  I turn back to the road.

  A virgin omega is something unheard of. Most omegas come into their heat cycles when they reach puberty; many whore themselves out to survive. Those who hold out lurch from one cycle to the next, growing slightly more desperate with each one—no access to suppressants, which have been outlawed, their supplies all but vanishing from black markets, too.

  Very few omegas reach adulthood without giving in to being rutted by an alpha.

  You have to be a princess, or belong to royal blood, or have extremely rich parents who can source suppressants for you. Unless—nah! I shoot her a sideways glance.

  That rich silk of her hair, the softness of her skin, the delicate features, that regal bearing when she walks. Hell, when she’d dropped to her knees and given me a blow job—even then, there had been a delicacy to the way she had eaten my cock. Clearly, she is used to a privileged lifestyle. I drum my fingers on the wheel.

  I’d called her a princess, and she’d turned up her pert nose and said she was, before she’d retracted it.

  Hang on a second.

  I slam on the brakes right there in the center of a deserted road.

  I take in a breath, and that pheromone-laced essence of hers teases my nostrils. The one thing I can count on is my instincts.

  It is that which had prompted me to send Lucy to Zeus. And Lucy didn’t have a sister, did she? The omegas who had appealed to me for shelter…well, I hadn’t seen all their faces. I hadn’t bothered with them, really. Lucy had been the one who’d been of use to me. So…who is this omega?