by Alison Aimes
But she was not your usual docile, sweet, and retiring omega.
Hurrying to his folded clothes, she exchanged one of his shirts for her dirty, torn gown.
She took the pair of scuffed boots tossed into the corner as well. She felt bad about it, but if things went according to plan, he’d soon be back at home with more than enough footwear from which to choose. Plus, as enormous as his shuttle-sized boots were, they were still better than nothing. She couldn’t just traipse barefoot through the Forbidden Sector. Not that she’d actually be traipsing. It would be more of a furtive creep, but she was well practiced.
Outfit complete, she grabbed some other pieces of clothing and began tying the sleeves with the edges of the blanket. The bag she’d come in had been burned to ash, but Magnus’s uncle would still expect his package to be delivered in some kind of sack.
Yes, she could have just fled and left Magnus to his own devices. It was far less of a risk. But she never would.
He wanted to reclaim his birthright. Avenge his father.
She would do this for him.
His uncle would only order the shields dropped for the weapon, so she was going to deliver herself and give Magnus’s uncle exactly what he wanted: a killing machine.
Except he would be her next target.
It was the first time she’d ever been happy about her curse. The first time she’d ever thought killing was justified.
She’d always tried her hardest to keep from eliminating those around her, but for Magnus, she could become what fate and nature had fashioned her to be from the start.
It would be easy enough to fall against her new owner or lull him into touching her. He’d be dead within a heartbeat, and Magnus could get what he truly wanted.
If she could, she’d disappear in the ensuing chaos that surrounded the uncle’s murder. But there was always the chance that before she could escape, she’d be killed in retaliation. It was a risk she was willing to take.
In some ways, the latter seemed a better end. At least she’d die with the echo of Magnus’s scent on her flesh and the beauty of their connection humming through her. All reminders that she truly had lived after all.
She might not be able to be his fated mate in truth, but she could be his savior.
Finished with creating her makeshift bag, she tiptoed to the door and pressed her ear to it.
Nothing sounded back at her.
Why should it? She’d heard the click of the padlock as her Alpha locked her in.
But, thanks to her curse, she had a few more tricks up her sleeve.
Touching her palm to the door, she concentrated.
Strangely, the reaction wasn’t instantaneous as it usually was.
For a moment, hope sparked in her chest. It was almost as if being with Magnus had somehow siphoned off the worst of her volatility. As if the small current of happiness sparking inside her because of their bond had dampened the worst of the curse.
Could he be right? Could he have somehow cured her?
Maybe she could stay after all and be his mate and—
Flames leapt from her palm. Her curse ignited, and the metal door began to melt, oozing downward as it lost its shape.
She could never allow Magnus to risk such a fate.
Stifling a sob, she hopped out of the way of the liquid metal to escape being burned. She was a fool. The rush of hope only made the disappointment cut deeper.
She could not pretend she was anything but a weapon.
Determined, standing on tiptoes, she pressed her palm to another section of the door.
She’d never known there was an Alpha like Magnus out there in the galaxy. Arrogant, demanding, entitled, and yet also so honorable and caring and strong. He’d tempered his needs for her. Done whatever it took to bring her pleasure. Refused to use her to retaliate against his uncle, determined only to keep her safe.
She could do no less for him now.
Of course, she wished she could stay forever. He was hurting too—the grief over his father’s death mixing with his brother’s mistrust to create scars in her Alpha as deep as the ones on his skin.
But he was strong. He would rise above. He would find his way once more. She had no doubt. He would do extraordinary things once he was back on his rightful throne. There was no question in her mind.
Stepping back, she waited for the hole she’d made to cool.
She wished with everything inside her she could be there to sit by his side. To support him and care for him.
But she could not be so selfish. The pull between them was too great. The bond was already so strong.
He’d forget and try to touch her again. Or, gods help her, do it deliberately to see if another miracle was possible.
He was not meant for the likes of her.
Plus, she had a schedule to keep—and a delivery to make.
Determined, she took her self-fashioned sack and slipped through the hole.
9
Pavel and Axel were arguing—and putting the finishing touches on the replacement bag he’d ordered made—when Magnus entered the great room.
The clang of mallets and the hanging construction cloths muffled their bickering somewhat while the scent of smoke clung to the rafters, but it was the unpleasant itch at the back of Magnus’s neck and ache in his chest that really bothered him.
His omega was upset. He was at fault.
But he would fix it. He would soothe her and prove her fears about them were unfounded. If she didn’t want him to deliberately try to touch her again, he wouldn’t. But they could still be together, and he would do whatever it took to ensure that she was happy as his prime omega and that she felt comfortable in the capital.
“Alpha Lord,” a soldier who couldn’t have been more than seventeen ducked beneath a construction cloth and rushed forward, the single piercings in his eyebrow jingling as he slammed his fist to his chest in a near tail-wagging display of respect and obedience.
Magnus didn’t even blink. He’d gotten used to the informality of the place. Now that he would be leaving it soon, it seemed even more refreshing.
“We have almost finished redoing the destroyed areas,” the kid barely took a breath, his mask strapped tight to his face, “and are ready for inspection. We thought you could take a look before you go.”
Magnus hid his surprise.
The castle had suffered more damage from the firebomb than he’d let on to his omega. She was already feeling guilty enough—and using every little negative to justify her need to leave. He hadn’t wanted to give her any more ammunition.
Still, he hadn’t expected his men to be so quick to get to the repairs. Especially since he’d made no secret of the fact that he and his omega would be leaving soon.
“I would be pleased to do so.” His voice came out rougher than expected. He wondered what the kid had been exiled for, and how long he’d last. His single piercing indicated he hadn’t been in the sector long, and he lacked the hardened exterior of some of the old-timers. “I will speak with my seconds and then make my way to the end of the hall.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, Alpha Lord.” The soldier bowed as he scuffled back, disappearing behind the cloth.
They are good men, looking for a leader who can give them hope for a new life.
Do you think the current peace will continue without a strong leader to keep them from turning on each other again?
His omega’s words hit without warning.
Hells.
“He can judge for himself, now can’t he?” Pavel’s barked words drew Magnus from his thoughts. Thankfully.
“I’m just saying,” Axel snapped back, “if you put on a few more fasteners it will look even more like the original bag.”
Magnus stalked over. He might even miss their asinine arguing at some point. “Add two more fasteners and then stop arguing and shut the hells up. I want to go over the new plan with you one more time.”
With a final glare at each other, both males returned to work
.
He eyed them as they completed the simple task. Both Alphas were strong and smart. Maybe he could tip the scales and leave one as the main leader in his stead? Except both Pavel and Axel had survived in the Forbidden Sector for a while. That meant they were both seasoned fighters, but it also meant they’d chosen sides in the gang wars and made enemies. It was unlikely either would be able to rally all the strongest factions behind them—and he didn’t see them working together without someone around to keep them in line.
Double hells.
“It’s done.” Pavel’s words drew Magnus’s attention. “We redid the fasteners and found a similar lock.”
“Looks good.” It wasn’t an exact replica, but it was close. Fortunately, there was a lot of cast-off fabric to make use of here. Yet another good thing about the Forbidden Sector.
Another? Shit. His omega’s words had really messed with his brain.
“Alpha Lord? The plan?”
He realized the other two Alphas were staring at him.
“Right. You two are no longer coming with me to the drop site. I’ll need you to choose two other Alphas to pretend to be smugglers and accompany me to the package exchange site.”
Silence. Both males were too smart to challenge him directly, but it was clear from the way their lips went flat and tight, they didn’t like it. He suspected they thought he’d just issued them a grave insult.
For some damn reason, he felt compelled to explain. “I have another job I need you two to do for me: guard my omega. There is nothing more important to me than that. No one else I would trust with this task.”
Pavel’s eyes widened. Axel’s constant scowl didn’t disappear, but it definitely lessened.
They might not have fated-mate omegas of their own, but both males still understood the honor he’d bestowed on them. “I don’t give my trust easily. You’ve earned it.” Enough said. “You will accompany us as close as possible to the exchange site and then remain out of sight.”
Both males nodded.
It wasn’t ideal; Magnus would have rather had his omega locked away safely, but he wasn’t leaving her any place he couldn’t reach quickly.
From here on out, it was the two of them against the galaxy.
The idea of coming with you to that place does not make me happy in return.
Her words burned like a hot poker to his chest even now. He wanted her happy. He wanted her to have what she wanted.
And she would. He just needed to figure out a way to make her see he could give her all she desired.
“I will use the element of surprise to take out my uncle and his men, and then I will return for her.” He leveled them with a predatory glare. He knew they’d expect no less. “I have no doubt she will be safe and happy and in the exact same good condition she was in when I left her in your care.”
Pavel shared a look with Axel. “We understand. She will be. We’ll guard her with our lives.”
“I would expect no less.” He moved on. “In the meantime, I promised I’d take a look at the repairs the other Alphas are making. Then I will retrieve my omega and we can head out.” Magnus was already itchy to get back to Amora and get this over with so he could start focusing on what really mattered: discovering ways for them to be together.
A trip to Skolov’s doctor was definitely in order once his affairs in the capital were settled.
Was it going to be easy for him and his omega? Hells no.
But was it worth it? Without question.
Now that he’d found her, no other omega would do.
Even if they could never touch, what he experienced with her was a thousand times more intense and fulfilling than any connection he could ever want.
She was exactly to his taste—not without her challenges, but neither was he. He wasn’t looking for perfect, just perfect for him.
“Sounds good. We’ll come with you to have a look at the construction.” Pavel hooked the bag over his shoulder. “I’m curious to see how it all turned out.”
Magnus was still wondering what his second meant as he batted aside the cloth and got his first look at the new area.
Shock slammed through him.
Unlike the rest of the castle, the walls in this section no longer had any holes. Hells, it looked almost respectable, the patchwork of cast-off parts the men had found and installed somehow working together to give the whole room a fierce, wild feel that spoke to his soul.
He liked it a lot more than the polished, stylized ornate golden moldings and gilded plasterwork that decorated his father’s homes at the capital.
This was . . . nice. This was . . . him.
But what really floored him was what now stood at the far end of the room on a raised dais that was also new.
They’d redone his throne, swapping out the rusted heap for a massive, gleaming metal chair with jagged ore edges and swirling designs. It was a seat of power worthy of a king. Carved at the top were the words Forged in Exile. He liked the sound of that.
Even more surprising, his men had made a smaller, matching version of his throne to stand at its side. Carved at the top of this one were the words Forged in Fire.
He suspected his omega would like the sound of that as well.
What I have wanted all my life was the chance to stop being a freak. To finally fit in and find a place I could call home.
His omega’s words echoed through his head in a way they hadn’t before.
Here they had built her a throne.
In the capital, he had no doubt he could ensure she was treated with respect, but they would never welcome her like this.
Here, they were all aberrations in some way. Pavel with his broken horn. Axel with his piercings and his brusque manner.
Hells, Magnus was too. He’d been labeled his father’s murderer and no matter what he did to avenge his sire, that cloud of suspicion would always follow him.
A mate who could turn someone to ash with a simple touch might be terrifying, but it also had to be appealing to those who understood what it was to be seen as different.
Those in the Forbidden Sector knew how hard life was. They faced danger every rotation. They appreciated strength, power, and honed survival skills. To them, his omega was exactly the kind of strong female who might last in a place like this.
What would be viewed as a detraction in the capital was seen here as an advantage.
Her words finally penetrated his thick skull.
Here he could give her some of what she’d wanted all her life.
It would mean giving up his plans and reclaiming his birthright, but wasn’t there more honor in nourishing her soul and making her happy than any other legacy could provide?
When it came down to it, the decision was easy.
He cleared his throat. “I am honored. My omega will be too. Thank you.”
Pavel looked pleased. Axel simply nodded. The enthusiastic kid soldier’s eyes crinkled as if he was actually smiling.
Pavel stepped forward to serve as spokesman once more. “We know you can’t stay, but you’ve given us hope. You’ve made us think maybe we can turn the Forbidden Sector into something besides a graveyard, so we wanted to give you this as a going away gift. A tribute of sorts that will stand even after you’ve moved on.”
Why had he ever thought he wanted a return to what he’d had before? The very idea of it made him feel stifled and claustrophobic. He’d respected his father, but the archaic formalities imposed by his sire irked the shit out of him.
He liked the way Pavel and Axel argued. He liked the lack of formality in this place and the rough and ready aggression of those in his command. He liked knowing he’d earned their respect by being the top predator, and not because of who his father was.
Mostly, he liked the fact that he suspected his omega could be happy here.
“Actually, you won’t be getting rid of me or my omega that easily.”
Total silence blanketed the room.
Magnus stifled the urge to laugh. I
t was the first time he’d had such an urge in a long time.
Just another sign of how twisted he really was and why he was such a good fit for this place.
“I’ll take the gift and homage.” He strode forward to pat the back of his new throne. “But I won’t be moving on. This is exactly where my omega and I were meant to be.”
He’d always admired his father’s legacy and the way he’d built it from next to nothing. Part of what had hurt Magnus so much was believing he’d allowed his uncle to wreck that.
But what if the best way to preserve his father’s legacy was not to reclaim the Approved Sector, but to use his father’s example of ingenuity and grit and forge his own path? What if a better use of all his fury and grief was to turn the Forbidden Sector into something he and his father could be proud of? Make his own mark. In his own style. With Amora at his side.
Staying here wouldn’t solve all their problems, but it might give his female the kind of place she’d been searching for all along. Him, too, if he was being honest.
He’d been so focused on getting back to the Approved Sector and reclaiming all he’d lost, he’d almost missed all he’d gained.
He might have been the Avitus’s golden boy at one time, but that label no longer fit him. Fate had altered his course. Exile had reshaped him. He was done trying to return to what he’d once been. He was ready to embrace what he’d become: an exiled king of fellow outcasts and the luckiest bastard around, thanks to his extraordinary mate.
“I do need to take out the traitor that betrayed my sire and tried to kill me,” he told his men, “but I won’t be returning to that shithole they call the Approved Sector. I like it here. So you’re stuck with me. Anyone who doesn’t like that can come forward and challenge me.”
Utter silence, then a cheer so loud it actually rattled his eardrums. He frowned so as not to give in to his lips’ urge to lift upward. He didn’t want his new crew getting too comfortable. Not when there was still a lot to do to bring the Forbidden Sector up to snuff.
But they’d get there. Of that he had no doubt.
First though, he had a package to deliver and a murderer to take out.
