I feel a grudging respect for that, though I shouldn’t.
I know then that I can't stop at seducing her into giving me what I want, and that only turns me on even more.
The hardness of my arousal strains against my pants. Yeah, like her, my body, too, has a mind of its own. Given a choice, I’d drag her to my bed, and then proceed to mate with her over and over again until I’d marked her completely. I’d own her such that she’ll never again refuse me, that she’ll never again be scared of me.
Why is it so important that she comes to me of her own accord? That she wants me as much as I want her? That she accepts the mating bond?
“How long can you resist?” I take a step back.
She stares. Color rushes to her cheeks. She swallows. “You will be surprised. Remember, I was a virgin all these years. I managed to see through many heat cycles on my own, without asking the first alpha to cross my path to take me.”
“And yet you did.” I smirk, my lips pulling up at the sides. I sound like I am gloating, and I am. It is the truth, after all. “You did ask me to take you. The alpha who rescued you from a room full of marauders.”
“And yet, you weren’t careful with me either.” Her hand flies to the shredded, still-healing marks on the side of her neck.
I angle my head and survey my handiwork. Satisfaction curves my lips up in a smile. “No. I mated you.”
“Why?” She shoves back her hair so the strands float around her shoulders. “You could have rutted me through the heat cycle, could have taken all you wanted from me and then let me go.”
“But you see that wasn’t my plan.”
“You didn’t know who I was then, did you?” Her body stills, and she stares at me
“I didn’t,” I agree and lean back on my heels. When did this entire conversation change tack? Why is it that she always refuses to follow my lead?
With my men, I tell them what to do, and they bow and scrape to please me. They follow my command.
Except Ethan who has a mind of his own. Which is why I respect him…which is why my admiration for her ticks up a notch. “You are no ordinary omega, Lucia.”
“Lucy.” She folds her arms over her chest and thrusts out her chin in a gesture I am beginning to recognize.
“You know why I brought you here, Lucy. I intend to keep you here for as long as it takes.”
“As long as what…?” Her lips tremble.
I want to go to her and soothe her, and yet a part of me says if I do that I’ll be lost. That I’ll give her the power if I do so, and then what? Would that be so bad?
I pace.
When I’d mated her, my only thought was that she was mine, that she belonged to me.
What I hadn’t counted on was for the mating bond to go both ways. That I belong to her as much as she does to me.
And I want to tell her that, but something in me refuses.
I can’t.
I am here in this palace for one reason only. To destroy the legacy of the man who had shown my mother no mercy.
Her gaze bores into me.
The tension grows in the room, filling the space, mixed with that edge of sexual need that always seems to be there between us. That will never go away no matter how many times I mate her.
“Answer me,” she says, her voice low but firm.
“I intend to keep you here for as long as it takes for you to acknowledge who I am.”
“Who are you?”
“Your mate.”
29
Lucy
I hear his voice as if from a distance. See his face set in an expression of determination. His jaw firms. A nerve ticks at his temple.
His chest planes ripple under his dark skin, and all I can think of is going to him, dragging my fingernails over his chest and marking him. Then, throwing myself at him and asking him to take me over and over again until I reach that space where all that remains is that bare essence of my soul—a naked need, a burning desire to be part of something.
To be joined to him in a way that I have never been to anyone else and never will be again. And that thought is a shock.
But is it, is it really? When I’d known from the time I’d set foot in this palace that there would be only one logical conclusion. That I was going to be taken and knotted, and not by any alpha, but by the most powerful of all of them. And inside I’d been ready. More than ready. Maybe it was that genetic superiority in me that came from being part of the royal family of Russia that expected to only be united with a bloodline that was different from the norm.
Which was what my father had intended for me, with the alliance he had forged with the leader of the Vikings. I had turned my back on that and run away…straight to a fate that was apparently not very different.
“Why me? Why choose me as your mate?” A shudder of nervousness runs down my spine. The hair on my neck prickles and stands up. It shouldn’t be important to hear his answer. It shouldn’t matter what his reasons were to bond with me. And yet it is. Something primal inside me insists that I force him to admit what I’d already sensed. “Tell me.” I hold his glowing blue gaze.
A myriad of expressions flit across his face. For a second, I sense that vulnerability that I thought I’d touched, that I’d felt when he was deep inside me, when he’d insisted that I say his name.
It is then that I realize that behind that charade he projects to the world he is as lonely as me…and I am sure he is going to finally tell me something that is real, that matters.
Something that will give me a reason to push aside everything else that binds me to the outside world and gives me the space to finally be myself, to accept the bond that tugs and pulls at my gut and is worming its way into my soul.
He straightens his spine.
His shoulders stiffen.
His features form into a mask of indifference. Once more he is the General, the leader of the insurgents, the alpha who killed his own father and took over.
“Because I need a mate by my side, to win the respect of my followers. To show the old guard that I am serious in my claim to being their leader. To cement my position of power.”
“So it is to further your own needs?”
“Obviously.” He angles his head.
His gaze narrows and he searches my face. Does he expect me to react with surprise? Or perhaps he wants to see some other emotion; one that will set right everything that has happened.
“No.” I gulp. Is all of this a ploy for progeny? My palms fly to my belly, and I want to tear them away and tuck them at my sides; but I don’t.
“Yes.” His voice is soft but firm. “I want to control, command, dominate and use you.”
My nerve endings stretch. My core trembles, and I fight the need to cover myself. To throw myself at him and ask him to follow through on his words.
Then, “I want to touch you, hold you, kiss you, and protect you.” He frowns as if his words puzzle him. “To keep you safe so that someday you may carry my child.” His gaze drops to my stomach and stays there.
His voice cuts through the thoughts skittering in my head. A child. Someone of my own. Someone born of my own flesh and blood. It pulls at that nurturer I’ve hidden deep inside of myself, that I’ve tried to drown out all of these years under the voice of rebelliousness, under the need to be independent.
And I am still all of that.
Only, I am also an omega. A fierce provider, someone who was born to procreate. And the thought doesn’t fill me with horror. Not even the fact that it is this monster…this alpha who could have already impregnated me, and that he’d done it without sharing his intentions with me. That he’d done it in a cold, calculated manner. All of it…he’d planned all of it. I sink against the back of the chair. “You’d been looking for an omega for this reason.”
“Not any omega, but one of superior breeding to ensure my future generations can weather everything that the future is going to bring. Imagine my surprise when you sweep right into my clutches? One sniff o
f your scent and I knew your genes were exemplary. Learning that you came from the royal family of Russia only sweetened the deal further. And, of course, then there is your cunt.” His gaze slides down to the apex of my thighs.
I resist the urge to squeeze my legs shut. Try to pretend that hearing him talk about that part of me is not making my flesh weep with need. That his gaze sweeping over me does not encourage moisture to trickle from my core.
“Your sweet pussy that made it abundantly clear that it ached for me.” He raises his gaze to my face.
Those molten eyes deepen until they seem to be almost clear pools of spring water.
A mirror in which I can see myself reflected.
One that I want to shatter, but which I know is going to tear me apart instead. My stomach twists.
“I don’t want you.” I force myself to keep my features straight, to keep all emotions from showing on my face. To clamp down on the lust that pushes at me and thumps at my temples. “I don’t want you…” I shake my head. “I don’t.”
“So you keep saying.”
His jaw firms, and I am sure he is going to close the distance between us and take me and throw me on the bed and bury himself in me. And I want him, too…with every fiber of my being. I tense my body, grip my forearms so my nails dig into my skin. My toes scrunch into the floor, and I wait…and…he swivels on his heels and stalks to the door.
I watch, not sure what’s happening.
A part of me already aches that he is leaving. While my core throbs with unfulfilled lust and my lower belly pulses with readiness, my mind says this is the right thing, that he did not force himself on me. That he did not seduce me to give in to him. There’s a ball of emotion in my chest that’s growing larger by the second. The breath shudders out of me.
He pauses with his fingers on the door handle.
Every part of me tenses up again.
He turns and fixes that glorious blue gaze on me. “When you face up to the fact that this is not one-sided, that you want me, that you need me to break you, that you revel in it, that more than that, you are but this…an omega who wants every depraved thing that only me, only your alpha, can give you. That only I, Zeus, can fulfill you. When you finally accept that and ask me to rut you…only then will I mate you again.” He shoves open the door, which slams shut behind him.
30
Zeus
I’d walked out of there and that was not what I had intended. I’d wanted to try to be civil, to stay with her, make sure she was okay after the last few days. And that thought itself is so unnatural. What does it matter how she feels? She is my hostage. The daughter of an enemy who’d walked into my palace with the express need to hurt me. Why did she agree to do that?
I’d never bothered to ask her of her intentions.
I didn’t need to.
The look on her face when I had called her out on her own identity was proof enough. Besides, I am judge, jury, and executioner. I don't need to explain my decisions to anyone, and certainly not to an omega.
And yet that part of me that seems to come alive when I’m around her, insists that I give her the benefit of the doubt.
Why is it that the sight of her green eyes, wide and with tears shimmering in them, haunts me? That scent of hers, that familiar, honeyed, sugary essence clings to my every pore, tugging at my nerves, while the mating cord in my chest thrums with discomfort.
A feeling of sadness seeps through the bond. She is hurt and lonely, my omega.
Well, she deserves it. Doesn’t she? She’d known what she was getting into when she’d flounced into my lair. Surely, she hadn’t thought I’d go easy on her. She couldn’t have possibly known that I’d spare her…and yet something inside me insists I should have treated her with care.
That I should have asked her first, given her a chance to defend herself. Right… Next, I’ll be asking her permission before I mate her. I have already done that…in a sense. I’d told her I was going to wait until she came to me. That until she really wants me, I won’t take her again. Fuck this! I am losing my mind and all over a timid omega, over a pair of green eyes that haunt my soul, over a sweet cunt that grasps my shaft and milks it as if it has been designed for me. Whose womb throbs in readiness, and I know that she is the one who is meant to birth my offspring. Did I just think that? Am I am waxing poetic about her…? Do I still have my balls? No fucking way am I letting a female get the better of me.
Striding out of the palace into the courtyard, I stop at where my troops are practicing.
“So our mighty leader arrives,” the hulking alpha lurking in the corner of the courtyard drawls. “I take it you found the omega satisfactory? Given we haven’t seen you here for a few days. Most unlike you, mighty Zeus, the Bastard of the East End.”
I swerve toward him.
Jerome sniggers, then the fool saunters out into the center of the court to stop in front of me. “Yet by the glowering darkness on your face it seems perhaps she is not to your satisfaction? Care to pass her over perhaps? Maybe what she needs is a real male to satisfy her.”
Blood thunders in my temples, and red sparks flash in front of my eyes. My fingers twitch, and the next second, I find myself hauling Jerome up in the air, his legs suspended off the ground. A fight is exactly what I need, and this…this sniveling excuse for a man will do quite nicely for getting his head pounded into the wall.
I stalk toward the wall, carrying him along with me, then slam his head against the hard surface, again and again.
Blood sprays out, and bits of his flesh fall to the ground.
There is the sickening sound of his skull cracking, but I don’t stop. All I can think of is no one dares talk about her like that in front of me. No one dare look at her again. “She is mine,” I roar. “Mine.” I slam the man’s head into the wall with such force that it flattens all the way down to his neck. His body grows limp, and I throw the irritating burden to the side. Turning, I pound my chest. “Anyone else?”
The soldiers have formed a wide circle around me. On their faces I see fear, desperation, also resignation. What’s missing is respect. What I’ve craved from the beginning.
The need to redeem myself in front of the people who’ve made me their leader.
I’ve wanted this, craved this power since I was five and had caught a glimpse of my father sparring with his troops right here in this courtyard. And yet every time I’d tried to live up to his expectations, tried to live up to my own dreams, I have failed. The only thing left for me is to destroy this town and show them once and for all who is the most powerful alpha.
No one meets my gaze, except Solomon who stands there, eyes narrowed, a look of understanding on his face. I glance away.
Ethan steps forward. “Want to take on someone your own size, Alpha?”
“You have a death wish, Second?” I crack my neck from side to side. Truth is, that’s exactly what I need. A chance to pit my skills against someone who can hold his own, who will challenge me, push me, take my mind off the annoying, beautiful, alluring woman whose thoughts send a pulse of desire shooting to my groin. Yet who I’ve sworn not to touch, not until she asks for me to take her.
Ethan’s lips pull up in the semblance of a smile. He has his armor on already. He holds up his sword and takes position.
My gaze falls to it. “Barehanded. No weapons.”
The color slides from his face. A nerve ticks at his temple.
He is unsure of how he’ll fare against me without his favorite weapon. Good. When I was running wild on the streets of the East End, I had no access to fine weapons. All I had were my wits and my bare fists. Fighting freehand is what I still excel at. No one has defeated me, ever. Many have tried and been hurt.
The same thoughts must have run through Ethan’s mind, for he nods and hands his sword to Solomon.
He shrugs off his armor and lets it fall to the ground.
I take off my vest and fling it aside.
We walk to the center of the courtyard an
d face each other.
The heat of the morning sun pours over us. People begin to stream onto the balconies above us.
I bend my knees, raise my fists, and am about to charge forward, when a soldier runs into the courtyard.
“The omega. She’s gone.”
31
Lucy
The shirt I wear, his shirt, whips around my thighs. Reaching the other end of the building, I hear the shouts as soldiers pursue me.
I still can’t believe he’d left the suite without locking it behind him, that there had been no guard on duty. Zeus was crude and an alpha-hole, but he wasn’t sloppy. Had he done this deliberately?
Yet, this is too good an opportunity, and I have to take it, even if it means being caught and punished. I have nothing to lose.
The sound of footsteps racing in pursuit thunders, and blood thuds at my temples; my pulse beats so fast that I feel dizzy, yet I keep going.
I run through the gardens, to where the scent of the river floats to me. A cry breaks out behind me, and I pick up my pace.
My feet skid on the stones, and pain rips up my legs. I bite my lip to hold back my groans. Stumbling over the uneven ground I reach the parapet wall and peer over the side. The water of the Thames churns below.
My heart pounds. A chuckle rips out. I thought I was so clever to escape. Thought I would be brave enough to jump and leave the alpha behind.
The mating bond in my chest throbs and a shudder of desire races down my spine. My throat closes. No. No. This is not happening. I cannot be bonded so closely to him that he can anticipate my fears, my uncertainty, even predict what I am going to do next. Once more I glance over the parapet at the river.
Fated Mates: Paranormal Romance Series Starters Boxset Page 47
