by Alison Aimes
But even before that, he needed to speak to his omega and tell her he finally understood what she’d been saying—and that he had a way of giving her some of what she’d always wanted.
All he needed was for her to meet him halfway and stay.
Now that he was beginning to really listen to her concerns, she would. He was sure of it.
Then, the pain and sorrow that had become a constant low vibration in his chest would finally lessen.
“Pavel and Axel, make sure no one sits on my fucking throne while I’m gone. I need to speak with my omega.”
He was halfway up the stairs to the fifth floor when he smelled the melted metal.
10
Magnus had never moved so fast in his life. His new army was scrambling to catch up, but he didn’t have time to wait.
He knew exactly what his omega intended.
She planned to deliver herself and kill his uncle before disappearing.
A final goodbye.
But he refused to allow that to happen.
Climbing up and over the heaps of trash and boulders as high as his castle walls, he scaled the blockades that served as the borders of the Forbidden Sector and bled into the areas just outside the Approved Sector.
He couldn’t see them yet, but he could scent his uncle and his men on the wind. He could feel the presence of at least ten guards with him and, most significant of all, his brother, Tarquin. He could hear them too.
Their voices were agitated. They didn’t like that the package was on the ground unguarded. They didn’t understand where the smugglers could be.
Magnus didn’t have much time.
His uncle Septimus might be a liar and a murderer, but he was no fool. He’d order his guards to grab the bag and take it inside the tunnel. Only once he thought himself safe behind the protective barrier of the shields would he order the bag opened so he could confirm what was inside.
But the problem for him was there was no place safe from Amora.
Or for her once she attacked.
Magnus cleared the last of the high blockages and dropped silently to the ground in a crouch.
Up ahead, at least twenty feet from the tunnel known as the fifth entrance, was a cluster of guards, his brother, and his uncle. All of whom were wearing scent masks. All of whom starred down at the makeshift bag at their boots, lasers out.
Magnus’s heart slammed into his throat.
“Back away from that fucking bag and go hide behind your shields before I kill you, uncle.”
Twelve lasers turned in his direction and locked on him.
He breathed a sigh of relief. Amora was still in danger, but at least their weapons were now pointed at him.
“Magnus, your delusions grow even more troubling.” His uncle’s gloating was as irritating as ever. He had the same bushy eyebrows and thick gray beard as before, but he’d added a trimmed mustache to his look and a laughable number of honorary metals to the slash of fabric that crossed his chest. He’d gotten thicker around the middle in the intervening months too, as if the rot inside was pushing its way out.
“The package is mine. The throne is mine.” Septimus’s voice dripped with pretend sympathy. “If you’ve come to atone for your sins and stand trial for your horrific crimes, my guards will stand down. If you’ve come to do more harm, you will be killed here and now.”
“Those who need to atone for their sins, will, of that you can be sure.” Magnus took a slow step closer. “But I couldn’t give a damn about that right now. All I want is for you to move away from the bag and scurry back into your hole. Do that and you’ll get to live a few more rotations.”
For the first time, he let his gaze drift to his brother.
Tarquin had the same face as his, only a little softer around the edges, a little prettier, and absent of the scar their uncle had given Magnus.
But there was nothing gentle about his twin’s expression now. Tarquin’s fangs were out, his laser trained on Magnus, his hold steady and unflinching. But there was something in his gaze—something Magnus might never have noticed if not for his omega: doubt.
It gave Magnus hope.
But there was no time to follow up.
As smart as she was dangerous, Amora had used his arrival as the distraction she needed.
A glittering, candy-coated hand shot from the bag.
Magnus’s uncle just missed being zapped as he stumbled back onto his ass. It pleased Magnus to see the fear and panic enter his uncle’s gaze. Obviously, he’d been expecting a tied-up weapon he could exploit at his will.
He’d gotten something else altogether.
Chaos erupted.
Magnus dropped and spun as a few lasers shot in his direction. Still, he never took his eyes off the bag as he surged forward.
Especially as his omega emerged from the sack to stand upright, a bewitching siren of innocence, beauty, and deadly vengeance. Her hair was a wild tangle of black curls, her expression ferocious, and she was wearing his shirt and too-big boots.
His dick went hard. His inner Alpha happy to know that even surrounded by those other Alpha fucks, his scent clung to her.
But, of course, that wasn’t enough to deter the guards. Enthralled by her sudden appearance, their aggression shifted from the urge to kill to the impulse to fuck.
Thankfully, they were all wearing the scent masks. Otherwise, they’d already have been on her. Still, Magnus could see blood-red bleeding into a few of their gazes.
He picked up his pace, his claws punching against his skin. He’d fucking take them all down. Rip their throats out . . . once his omega was safe.
Even his uncle wasn’t immune to her impact.
Septimus had hidden behind his guards the instant her arm shot out and tried to grab him. Unlike the rest, he seemed to have a better handle on how dangerous the weapon he’d purchased could be. But even that knowledge was not enough as her scent reached him. Nostrils flaring, Septimus stutter-stepped out from his hiding place as if compelled against his will to go to her.
She knew it too.
Hand outstretched, finger crooking, she beckoned the male to her.
“Amora, no! Stand down!”
Magnus’s command, as intended, stilled her in place.
She whirled around, her gaze beseeching. “Let me do this for you.”
“I don’t give a damn right now whether he lives or dies. What I care about is you.”
Her pain continued to beat at him through their bond, but there was a flare of hope too.
He kept talking as he closed the distance. “I don’t need some kind of final legacy to remember you by. All I need is you.” He took another step. “I finally heard what you said—and what you didn’t. You may think reclaiming my birthright and avenging my father is still my most important priority, but it’s not. Not anymore. Now, my priority is you.”
“Magnus.” The wonderment inside her blazed brighter.
His uncle, however, was not similarly moved.
Freed from her gaze, he’d found a bit of control—and used it to attempt to resume command. “This is all very touching, but irrelevant. The omega belongs to me and you, Magnus, are a traitor who needs to pay for what you did to my beloved brother.” He snapped his fingers. “Guards, subdue the omega and force her back into the bag.” His gaze flickered to Tarquin. “You know what must be done with your twin. We have no choice. Your father must be avenged.”
Magnus didn’t even bother appealing to his uncle. Instead, he locked gazes with his brother. “I’m sorry. I believed his falsehood that you conspired with him to kill our sire. I was crazed with grief. Just as I suspect you were to believe his lies about me. But I realize now you were never my enemy.” He paused. “But you will be if you do nothing to help me protect my fated mate.”
His twin’s eyes went wide. “Fated mate?”
Magnus nodded. His gaze shifted to Amora. “She is my everything.”
“He’s trying to distract you.” His uncle’s shouts had grown t
inged with panic. “Kill him.”
The guards aimed their lasers.
“Wait.” His brother’s command echoed even louder.
Uncertain, the guards hesitated.
“How dare you countermand my order. I’m in charge.” His uncle sounded close to frantic.
“Not anymore.” Tarquin pinned their uncle with a fierce glare. “I let you assume command because I trusted you and because the idea of taking my father’s place sickened me, but my regret has been growing for some time. Now, I see I let my grief blind me. I stewed too long. I won’t delay anymore.”
“No,” protested his uncle. “We are a team. He’s confusing you. Magnus needs to die.”
“Guards,” snarled his twin, “obey Septimus, and I will kill you all myself.”
As one, the guards lowered their weapons.
His brother had come into his own. Magnus was oddly proud.
“How dare you?” Desperate, his uncle’s mask slipped and like a beast who only knows one trick, he tried to use the same tactics he’d once used on Magnus. “Tarquin is clearly a traitor too. He must have been in league with Magnus all along. Guards, seize them both!”
Except, the power of the accusation had lost its sting this second time. The guards’ weapons remained by their sides.
Magnus advanced. “He does not want you to hear the truth, brother. He’s the one who killed Father.”
“Lies.” Septimus’s gaze darted to the side as if he was already searching for an escape. He’d thought today would bring him a weapon that would consolidate his power. Instead, it was all slipping away. “You are all traitors.”
“Seize his weapon,” growled Tarquin. “And shut him up.”
For Magnus, it was a pleasure to watch his uncle struggle as he was forcibly stripped of his weapon and surrounded by the very guards he’d once used to run Magnus from his family home while he’d been drugged, near-dying, and unable to fight back.
“Septimus said you were the murderer.” Confident the guards would do his bidding, Tarquin continued the conversation they should have had long before. “That you were driven by jealousy and the desire to be head and that you intended to take me out next to ensure you had no potential competitors.”
“I was always ambitious.” Magnus shrugged and thought of his omega’s earlier words. “Also, maybe stubborn, hard-headed, and entitled. I made no secret either of the way I was beginning to chafe at Father’s commands. I was out to prove my own worth, but I should have realized how easily I was playing into our uncle’s hands. I would never have raised a claw against our sire or you, but I am sorry for whatever actions I took that made you doubt me.”
His brother looked almost shell-shocked. “You have changed.”
“Enough to know I have no interest in returning to the Approved Sector.”
Tarquin startled. He wasn’t the only one. Amora’s eyes went wide, her spine snapping straight.
Magnus was pleased to finally have her full attention.
“What is it then that you want, brother?”
“Nothing you can give me.” His gaze locked with his omega’s. “A certain female recently told me what she wanted, and I didn’t hear her at the time, but I am listening now—and I hope she’ll do the same.”
Wary amethyst eyes sparked with reverence. “She will.”
He paused, his heart slamming against his ribs. “All I want, Amora, is for you to come home with me.”
“Home?”
“Yes. Home. Nothing matters to me more than having you with me. The revenge, my birthright, even fucking running water—none of that means anything if you’re not there with me. I honestly don’t give a fuck where we are, as long as I am with you.”
Her lips trembled and sadness flooded their bond. “But that’s just it. We can’t be. We’ll never be able to be. Even in the Forbidden Sector.”
“You’d be surprised what’s possible in such a wild, unpredictable place beyond the civilized borders. An unexpected package can become the gift of a lifetime. A stubborn, short-sighted, arrogant Alpha fool can turn into a wise man and fall claws over heels in love.”
She stilled. “Love?”
“Can’t you feel it pulsing along the bond?” He took a few more steps her way. “I realized after you left that in all the demands and commands, in all the words I threw at you to convince you to stay, I never told you that. I love you, Amora, and that is the most important consideration of all. We may not be able to touch skin to skin, but our hearts are connected. I know you feel it too.”
She pressed a palm to her chest. “I do. I love you too. More than I could imagine was possible, my exiled king.”
Behind him, he heard cheers and realized his army had arrived. He had some serious work to do to improve their speed and timing, but the fact that they’d emerged in force behind him to support his omega and their future queen pleased him immensely.
Their resolve was unquestionable. The rest would fall into place. Just like it would with his omega. Because with love, anything was possible.
“It’s early still,” he told her, “but just imagine what our bond will be ten minutes from now, tomorrow, in five years, or when we are old and gray. It will only deepen as we grow to trust each other, a force more powerful than gravity, more all-encompassing than scent or sight or touch. There is nothing stronger than a soul’s touch, and that is what we have.”
He kept coming until he stood less than an arm’s length away.
He was close enough now to his uncle, too, that he could have easily launched forward and, with one claw, ended the bastard’s miserable existence—but when required to choose between carrying out his revenge and tending to his mate, he’d make the same choice every time.
“I don’t need your hand on my skin,” he told her, “to feel you on my lips, my flesh, or my cock. I feel you fucking everywhere.”
She shivered with need and hope, but a few shadows still darkened her gorgeous eyes. “I’m scared lust and love won’t be enough.”
“How can it not? It’s everything.” He traced his palm along the curve of her face, just above, following the contours. “We’ll find a way. Believe in me. In us.”
She trembled. Nodded. “I am sorry I left.”
He took another step. “All I care about is that you come back to me. Those people back there need a fearsome, fiery queen. But even more than that, I need a wise and compassionate sugar-coated female by my side. To guide me. Argue with me. Keep me on my toes. Drive me wild with lust and love.”
She didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”
Pleased, he sent pleasure stroking along the bond like he would her clit, rewarding her. “Good omega.”
Her nipples went hard, poking against his shirt.
He was getting pretty good at this. With some practice, he was thinking he might be able to direct his thoughts along the bond and make her come from his thoughts alone.
He was ready to get started practicing right away.
“Hells, who are you, and what have you done with Magnus Avitus?” His brother’s amused voice intruded on Magnus’s pleasant imaginings.
Still, his twin sounded like his old self, like the close sibling who used to give him shit and expect it in return. It was something Magnus had not expected to hear again, and it was all thanks to his omega.
“I’m still me, brother.” He leveled Tarquin with a hard stare because he was still the older brother by two significant minutes. “I’m still a ruthless bastard. I can still kick your ass and everyone’s here without breaking a sweat.” He paused, and gave his brother a genuine, smug smile. “But I’ve got something now that matters to me a hells of a lot more than any of that, and right now all I want is to return to the Forbidden Sector with my mate.”
His brother looked skeptical. “Nothing else?”
The male knew him well. Magnus’s grin widened. “Perhaps some trade. My female needs certain necessities, as do my subjects.”
“Your subjects?” Clearly, Tarquin
wanted it spelled out.
“Yes.” Magnus issued a bow as polished as any given in the capital and made it official. “Meet the new king of the Forbidden Sector. It turns out, it’s the right spot for me all along.”
His brother nodded. He looked relieved. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” Magnus accepted the homage as his due. “Oh, and since I’m assuming you’ll be taking over as head of the Approved Sector, I’ll be in touch soon enough about fees for safe cargo transport. Since you’re family, I won’t gouge you too bad.”
“Fees? Safe transport? Gouge me?” His brother sounded confused and irritated.
Magnus grinned wider and shot Amora a wink before returning to the negotiations his poor brother had already lost. “Absolutely. The Forbidden Sector rings the Approved Sector. Not just on the land, but in the skies. There’s no way to get supplies and deliveries to the capital from the outer planets without passing through my territory. I’m assuming you’re more than willing to pay for that privilege. Or maybe you’d rather just tell your new subjects you’ve decided to cut off their precious comforts altogether?”
His brother looked annoyed, then he laughed. “It really is you. Same ruthless bastard.”
“We don’t want to keep you from your luxuries. All we want is a cut so we can obtain some of our own.”
His brother nodded. “Fair enough. Looks like the Forbidden Sector got lucky in their leader.” He held out his hand.
Magnus clasped his brother’s wrist in the Romealon Alpha show of respect and affection. “I know we’ll both make our sire proud.”
Beside him, Amora was smiling wide. “This is so beautiful. I knew you two could work this out.”
Now she’d decided on optimism? He sent a sharp blast through their bond, the equivalent of a tap to her bottom. She moaned, her eyes flashing to gold. He had so many plans . . .
“This is not happening.” His uncle’s shout cut through Magnus’s pleasure. “I’m the one in charge. Kill him. Kill them all.”
But the guards’ gazes remained on Tarquin, their weapons down by their sides.
“No!” His uncle’s shouts turned shrill. “I won’t let it all slip away from me now.” Throwing himself at the guard next to him, he grabbed the soldier’s weapon, pointing it at Magnus. “This is your fault. Die!”
