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Alpha's Corruption

Page 3

by Lillian Sable


  Before she could think of a response, Castor led her into a room was unlike anything she had ever seen before. Practically everything, from the walls to even the ceiling, was gilded. Their heels clicked along the marble floor that was a shiny, white marble with veins of gold running through it. Pictures hung on the walls in golden frames, paintings of impressively adorned men and women who she would probably recognize if she were actually from this place.

  “This is the portrait room,” Castor murmured and even that slight sound was enough to echo off of the high walls.

  “Why are you showing me all of this?”

  Castor hesitated a step, but continued to escort her down the long hall. “Would you prefer that I’d left you in your room for a few more days?”

  “I don’t know.” That seemed to be the trick in all of this. She had spent more hours than she cared to count in that room, feeling his presence with her like a specter and wishing he was there. Now that he stood in front of her, she somehow wanted to be as far away from his as possible.

  It made little sense, but she blamed him for the situation she found herself in, even though he had helped her more than anyone else she had come in contact with since crash landing in the Forbidden Zone. She would be dead if it weren’t for him.

  But that didn’t change the fact that he had tied them together in an unshakeable bond that could not be broken, even in death.

  She forced herself to ignore the tiny voice in her mind that pointed out she had bitten him too, so overcome with emotion at the time that she still couldn’t explain what motivated her. And he had understood what they risked at the time. She had not.

  “You won’t be seeing me as much from this point forward.”

  Her gaze flew to his, surprise and dismay warring for dominance within her. “What do you mean?”

  “I wanted to ensure that you were settled, if just in recompense for what I’ve done. I never should have marked you and I would have never done it if I had been in my right mind. But I promise that I will not touch you again. And I will make reparations for what I have done.”

  I will not touch you again.

  She sat with that proclamation for a moment, trying to decide how she felt about it. It was true that neither of them would have behaved as they had if they’d been in their right minds, but she couldn’t imagine that their connection was completely severed. She could still feel him inside of her and she knew that he felt her as well. How could they possibly proceed like this?

  There was no good response to his words, so Aura stayed silent. Regret was written into every line of his body, infused every word that he spoke, so why bring her here at all? Perhaps it was a sense of obligation, or merely guilt. But it was clear that the passion and possession that had characterized their interactions in the Forbidden Zone had been left in that wild place. All she felt from him now was a restraint so profound that she could sense it through the bond, as if he’d put a thick wall between them. She wondered again why he had not just left her after their rescue.

  But she didn’t really want the answer enough to ask.

  They exited the portrait room into another long hall lined with silent servants. “Does anyone here ever speak to you?”

  He only seemed to notice that they weren’t alone when she pointed it out, as if it were commonplace to be followed by a train of silent people and he no longer consciously processed it was happening. “None of them are mute, as far as I know.”

  But the presence of the servants reminded her that there would be questions about her presence here from anyone she encountered. “So what will you tell people?”

  Castor moved to hold the door open for her as they entered a completely new wing of the palace. This area was done in more neutral colors with more homey touches, as if someone actually intended to live in it. And most welcome all, they appeared to be alone as the door closed on the stone-faced servants waiting in the hall behind them. “What do you mean?”

  Aura was beginning to recognize that the palace was large enough to house practically every denizen of the Citadel and then some. She struggled to understand the purpose of having so much space for so few people.

  “When people ask why you brought me here, what will we say?”

  He hesitated for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. “You’ll see when we arrive.”

  Aura did not appreciate his secret-keeping, particularly after everything that had already happened. She stopped short, resisting the hand on her arm that urged her forward. “At least tell me that you have a plan to make this all right.”

  “I can’t send you back to that space station. It just isn’t possible, you know that.” Castor sighed, but did not force her to follow him. “And when I explain it to you, I’m not sure how you will react.”

  Feeling suddenly obstinate, Aura crossed her arms over her chest and backed up against the closed door. Her body language made it clear that he could tell her what she wanted to know or carry her to their destination, because she had no intention of taking another step without having her question answered.

  “Tell me. Now.”

  A growl escaped his lips as he glared down at her. For all of Castor’s play at civility, the barely leashed Alpha inside him reacted to her imperious tone and urged him to put her in her place. But with an obvious effort, he regained control of himself as the familiar mask descended over his features.

  Control was more important to him than anything else.

  “Omegas are practically a commodity here and in every inhabited sector on the planet. An unmated Omega is practically worth her weight in gold.”

  “But I’m not unmated, am I?” Frantic hands pulled at the collar of her shirt, revealing the angry wound on her shoulder that had not completely healed. “You marked me.”

  “And I will regret it with my dying breath. That never should have happened.” He looked away so that she could not see the emotion that blazed in his eyes. True remorse colored his tone, bordering on self-flagellation. Aura got the impression that he believed he had done more damage than she did. “I can only promise that no further harm will come to you.”

  “Why can’t you just send me back home?”

  “Space travel is outside of my capabilities. And if I hand you back over to the men who brought you here, I can guarantee that they will have no intention of returning you to your space station. You’re stuck here, whether either of us likes it or not.”

  “You didn’t have to bring me here, to your palace. You could have let me go after we were rescued.”

  “And what was my other option? Turn you loose in the streets with no knowledge of this world or even an ability to speak the language? Don’t be ridiculous.”

  Frustration mounted within her. “So you don’t want me, but you won’t let me go. Where does that leave me?’

  “I never said that I didn’t want you,” he snapped, the words spat out before he’d thought them through. “But I have always sworn never to take an Omega for mate. Claiming you publicly would undermine everything that I’ve worked for. The mark on your body makes me a hypocrite.”

  Aura swallowed hard, anger and a strange sympathy swirling through her. “So I’m your dirty little secret? Hide me away to rot, so no one will know what you’ve done?”

  “Enough.” In a flurry of violent movement, Castor hit the wall behind her with his fist, nostrils flaring as he took harsh breaths in and out. He didn’t speak again until he had regained control of his temper, backing away. “I am trying to do what I can to keep you safe. Stop fighting me.”

  She hadn’t shown him anything close to a fight. “Where are you taking me?”

  Resigned, he gestured at the long dress she wore. It was white, decorated at the waist and hem with golden cord, and moved around her legs as she walked. It had been the only garment in the room after she had woken that morning and she had put the thing on without questioning it.

  He touched the golden cord at her waist for a brief moment before pulling hi
s hand away. “This color is designated only for Omegas who are part of the King’s Harem.” His tone seemed almost apologetic, but the steely look in his eyes brooked no argument.

  “Harem?” It wasn’t a word that she would have known prior to arriving in this terrible place, but the translation unit aided her in understanding, even if the concept was unfamiliar. “So I’m not good enough for you, but you have no problem putting me into service for others?”

  “King Rolan is feeble and out of his mind most days. You’ll likely never be in arms reach of him, much less in his bed.”

  “But you won’t be around to know for sure.”

  The low growl that seeped from between his lips was more animal than human. “If any man touches you, I will put him death with my own hands. Even the King.”

  So now she understood why he had taken her on such a long and unnecessary tour of the palace, giving the servants time to prepare her place here. She would not be returning to her old room in the east wing.

  “And if I refuse?”

  His lips thinned. “I’m not giving you a choice.”

  “I could run.”

  “Where?” One eyebrow rose in mockery. “I’d be impressed if you managed to find your way out of the palace, much less any further.”

  It was impossible to ignore the fact that the winding halls of the palace were a veritable maze. She would need hours of wandering just to retrace her steps to the room where she had slept for the last several nights.

  Angry tears burned at the corners of her eyes. “I hate you.”

  “That’s for the best,” he said with a nod. “You will stay here in the harem with my father’s Omega’s. He’s been impotent for years so he’ll be no danger to you. I’ll ensure that you have a room of your own.”

  He turned and started back down the hallway, not bothering to so much as glance back to see if she followed him. Aura had no choice really but to go with him, unless she wanted to stay leaning against the door like a petulant child. She dragged her feet, but eventually caught up with him as he had slowed down to accommodate her.

  “If there is anything that you need, alert a servant and they will pass the message on to me.”

  “How long will I have a stay here?”

  “Until I can think of something better.” Castor hesitated at a large set of doors that were nearly twice as tall as he was. “You won’t be permitted to leave the harem pavilion without an escort, but I’ve arranged for a visitor to come sit with you later for entertainment. She will be familiar with your true history, anyone else should only hear the story that we concocted.”

  Aura didn’t bother to ask who the visitor was because she was beyond caring. There was nothing he could offer her at this point that made this situation any different from what it was. She was a prisoner, and always would be if he got his way.

  When they entered the pavilion, she did not react. Although, the place was not how she’d imagined it. A large pool with crystal blue water sat in the center of a large room, decorated with carpets and large pillows on the floor around its edge. Women lounged in various stages of undress, but most did not so much as lift their heads as they entered. Many smaller doors surrounded the pool, some of which were open, private bedrooms visible within.

  A servant came quickly to Castor’s side, and they spoke in low murmurs.

  “Your room will be this one on the left,” Castor said, barely looking at her as he began to back up towards the main entrance. “I have business to attend to, but I’ll try to make time to check in with you in the next few days.”

  Aura did not look at him as he turned and left the pavilion, footsteps muffled by the carpeted floor. The bond pulled at her chest, sending flashes of pain and longing through her as he left her alone. She wished that she could take a knife and cut his mark out of her skin, as if that would do anything to separate them from each other.

  But even with that, she couldn’t fight off the memory of his hands on her skin and the pleasure that he had wrung from her willing body.

  She wished she had the strength to escape him.

  Chapter Four

  Most of the other women in the pavilion ignored her.

  It didn’t take long for Aura to notice that her meager belongings had been moved to her new room in the harem. She couldn’t fight the impression that Castor had left her there to rot. But she could only wonder at the circumstances that had brought these other women here.

  She was alone in her room when the first one approached. Although the door was cracked partially open, which may have invited more attention than Aura would have otherwise preferred.

  “Knock knock.” A beautiful dark-skinned woman with almond eyes and a cheerful smile poked her head in the open doorway. “You’re new.”

  Aura sat up quickly from the bed. “Who are you?”

  If the newcomer was put off by her rude tone, little emotion was revealed on her otherwise expressive face. “My name is Dharia. Everyone is abuzz about you, we rarely see new faces here.”

  “If you say so.” Over the woman’s shoulder, Aura could see a handful of women lounging around the shallow pool. None of them so much as looked in her direction, much less seemed “abuzz” at having her there. “I’m Aura.”

  Dharia swept into the room on a wave of flowing fabric and faint perfume that reminded Aura of the forest of the Forbidden Zone. “Boredom makes them slow, everyone will be along to greet you eventually.”

  “There doesn’t seem to be much to do here.”

  “You get used to it. Occasionally, we’ll be allowed into the library and there are a few game boards in the corner there.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “But if you want a true diversion,” Dharia’s voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. “You have to bribe the guards into giving you a bottle of rotgut liquor they drink. It won’t make the time pass any faster, but it won’t matter to you as much.”

  Being drunk out of her mind was the last thing Aura wanted to contend with. “No, thank you.”

  Dharia’s eyebrows went up, expression sardonic. “You might feel differently when you’re being called to serve. You’ll find no other sort of peace here.”

  “What do you mean serve? I thought the King was no longer capable of performing.”

  “It isn’t the King that you should worry about.” Dharia’s stared off into space for a moment, as if she were picturing something far away or from the recent past. “No one pays much attention to who comes and goes here. Some members of the court have taken advantage of the King’s inattention.”

  A chill worked its way down Aura’s spine. Castor had assured her that she would be safe here and had seemed convinced of it himself. “Why haven’t you told anyone?”

  The other woman scoffed. “Who would we tell? King Rolan can barely remember what happens from one moment to the next. Don’t worry, that sort of thing doesn’t happen often.”

  With each passing moment, Aura fervently wished herself back home on the Citadel. Despite the decay and desperation of surviving on a derelict space station, there had been a form of life for her there. Here, she found herself surrounded by beauty that hid an even more pervasive ugliness underneath.

  “How did you come to be here?” she asked.

  Dharia seemed pleased by the question, as if she rarely got the chance to narrate her own history. “I was born on the mid-levels, but my family struggled after activists bombed their general goods store. My dynamic revealed itself soon after and my father sold me to the Crown so that the rest of my family could survive.”

  “Sold you?”

  “It’s not as if he would give me away for free. It was an honor, really, to be able to support them. My parents will have enough to maintain themselves for the rest of their lives because of me.”

  The thought of it left a sour taste in Aura’s mouth. “You shouldn’t be able to sell people.”

  “The other option was that I starved right along with them, or ended up in th
e slums, selling the same thing for scraps.” Dharia shrugged, as if no other alternatives had ever occurred to her. “You sound like a renegade or one of those Shi’slim priests who preach in the square about the sins of earthly pleasures.”

  There was no response that wouldn’t reveal the extent of her ignorance, so Aura attempted to change the subject. “How many women are there here?”

  “A dozen or so.”

  “Do any of them ever leave?”

  Dharia seemed puzzled by the question. “Where is there for them to go? We have all been claimed by the King.”

  “The King has bonded with all of you?” Aura couldn’t imagine it. The link she now shared with Castor was awful enough, but she wouldn’t be able to stand it if she knew he had done the same thing to a dozen other women. “You feel him, inside?”

  “Sort of, I bear his mark on my skin.” Dharia pulled down the woven strap of her dress to reveal a scar in the shape of teeth that appeared almost dainty when compared to the one that marred Aura’s flesh. “The bond is weaker because of how many of us share it. I think it’s mostly ceremonial at this point, doesn’t really bother me. You’ll find out soon enough.”

  Her own mark still burned at any reminder of its presence. Aura recalled Castor’s insistence that she kept it hidden. How could she, with so many other women here? “When will I get to meet him, the King?”

  “He rarely summons any of us at this point. Word is that he often forgets what a day it is or even what year. For some, the inattention is a blessing.”

  “But other men will come for us?” Aura kept her voice steady, despite the horrified scream going off in her head at the thought. “Isn’t that what you said?”

  “There are worse fates for an Omega in Pandora.” Dharia shrugged it off, as if the entire arrangement were to be expected. “We are fed, clothed and housed in comfort, with only the occasional trifle asked of us. What more can you ask for?”

  Aura didn’t have an answer to that question, but she knew there was one. “Does Castor know about this?”

 

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