by Zoey Ellis
His gorgeous brown eyes bore into her face and she stared back, a tingling in her stomach at the implication that they had a future. "I don't hate the idea of it," she said, her voice a whisper as she finally admitted it to herself.
“Then claim me,” he demanded.
Amara hesitated. “You said servants are not friends. Are mates?”
Malloron’s gaze did not falter. “No.”
“Why?”
“Because an Alpha owns and protects his Omega, and an Omega claims her Alpha and submits to him. That is how it works. It is our instinctual nature.”
Amara shook her head, her voice quiet as her eyes lowered. “An Omega will only claim an Alpha she trusts, Malloron. That’s how it works. Of everything we were taught at the compound, we were taught that to be the one thing Omegas have a choice about.”
Malloron’s hand grasp her chin and lifted her head up so she looked back into his eyes. "But you are supposed to trust in the connection we have, Amara. Do you truly think that what you feel between us is not unique? Can you really deny that we have something special between us? It can only be because we are true mates."
"What if it isn't?" Amara said, her gaze steady on him. "What if it is the tenebris?"
From Malloron's expression it was obvious he never considered the possibility.
"What we have between us is not normal," Amara pointed out. "I cannot tell what is supposed to be the Alpha/Omega connection, and what is the tenebris."
"What is between us is not just the tenebris," he growled. "There is nothing in my grandfather’s research about the connection that exists between us. Nothing."
"But you don't know how your mother felt when she had the tenebris," Amara stressed. "You cannot tell me whether she felt this way toward your father or your grandfather or both. You put this thing inside me, but I cannot trust it. I cannot trust the way it makes me feel."
Malloron's face hardened. He turned to look at the room and a long moment passed before he spoke again. "Is that why you don’t nest?"
Amara's breath hitched in her throat. "I don't feel the urge to," she admitted. "When the tenebris was broken inside me, I did feel the urge then, but since it repaired I haven't."
She felt Malloron nod, his chin brushing her head. "Do you know why we had that incredible need to mate every time we were apart when it was broken?"
Amara frowned. She hadn't even realized that the need had greatly lessened since the tenebris had repaired—it was the draw to him was a constant murmur within her now but no desperate need. "Why?"
"Because I needed to be inside you for the tenebris to be restored," he said. "And until you connected with it while we were in that state, it kept drawing us together. I figured it out once you told me you connected with it. I assume you felt the urge to nest during that time because of the same reason."
Amara digested this information for a moment. "So I am right," she said slowly. "The tenebris is making me feel this way toward you."
"No," Malloron said, sharply. "There are some things I don’t understand about how you have the abilities you have, but I do know that the tenebris can only enhance what is already between us."
"How do you know that?"
"I studied my grandfather’s research," Malloron said. "The tenebris cannot create something that isn’t there. He never mentioned anything about feeling this way towards my mother, he mentioned nothing of experiencing a hum like I do with you. That is unique to us."
"But the tenebris also limited my Haze," Amara pointed out. "My Haze should have lasted at least a few days, but as soon as the tenebris entered me, it ended. If I was supposed to be with my Alpha, why would it do that?"
At that, Malloron frowned. He looked over the room again, but it was clear he was not seeing it. "Grandfather did not mention my mother going into her Haze," he murmured, his frown deepening as he thought. An image of a table layered with numerous documents flashed into Amara’s mind. "It could be that the tenebris has an effect on that."
Amara lifted her shoulders. "If it has that much control over my body, I cannot trust anything that I feel for you. Surely you can see that."
"No," he growled. "You are forgetting that your Haze came upon you as soon as your magical blocks failed. You are forgetting how much you enjoyed being dominated by me even before having the tenebris in you." His voice deepened. "You are forgetting that you belong to me. There will be no other mate for you to ever consider anyway."
"So I should just choose you because there is no one else?" Amara snapped.
Malloron looked as though he wanted to bark at her but something stopped him. He glared at her for a long moment before pulling her back into his chest.
Amara pressed her cheek against him as his arms encircled her, absorbing his vibrant purr with a sigh. He could try to argue that they were mates, but he couldn’t truly deny that the tenebris had an effect on her. She slowly lifted her head. "In your memory, the book was on the stand," she said slowly, sitting up. In the center of the room was some kind of altar; two arches that crossed at the top with a stand in the center.
"Yes."
“Show me. Show me the page.”
It took a moment, but soon, the image of the book she had seen bloomed in her mind. The page Malloron had been referring to was in the back of the book.
“It looks the same as your grandfather’s research.”
Malloron straightened in his chair. "How do you know?" he asked, his eyes burning into hers.
"I just saw a memory of you looking at his research," Amara said.
Malloron’s brows rose, his face a picture of disbelief. "I didn't even make the connection."
"How could you not?" Amara almost snorted. "It is the same type of parchment and the same kind of handwriting. Even the ink looks the same."
"I studied that research as a child," Malloron pointed out. "It was one of the many things I studied that I committed to memory and never really looked at again."
"You know the Ancient Tongue?" Amara asked, still examining the memory.
"Of course."
"It isn’t something we learn in the compound. I only know one Omega who specialized in it, but she was always getting the words wrong. I think she gave up in the end and focused on the written form."
Malloron frowned. "Yes, of course," he murmured almost himself. "The written form of the Ancient Tongue has slight variations."
As Amara nodded, a plethora of memories revolved in Malloron's mind. From the book on the stand, to his grandfather’s research on the table, to an enormous document he spent time writing on painstakingly slow, to pronunciation lessons with an older man, back to his father's research, and finally back to the last page of the book on the stand.
Malloron cursed so suddenly and harshly that Amara jumped. "He got it wrong," he bit out. "How could I have not seen it!"
"What do you mean?"
"Quiet," he ordered. Amara narrowed her eyes at him, but stopped when she realized the seriousness of his expression. Leaning forward, he tilted her back so she rested on his forearms. He was quiet for a long time, his eyes roaming over her face as he thought deeply and, although a number of memories flashed through her mind, they were too quick for her to examine. So she simply waited, enjoying the sight of him over her.
Closing his eyes, he took a breath and began to recite a string of words in the Ancient Tongue.
The air around them began to change and the entire room seemed to pulse and quiver with every syllable he uttered. Slowly, the constant tremble of the vibrations solidified and the color of the magic in her surroundings transformed into more muted colors with different textures. Suddenly she was staring at Malloron in the flesh, just like before the tenebris, and she gasped as the strange silence of the air in the room rushed through her ears.
“Malloron?” She was almost shocked at the sound of her actual voice. “What happened?”
He said nothing, his gaze locked onto her eyes as so many powerful emotions bolted through the
awareness within her. She stared back at him, frowning as she took in the scars that tracked across his face. They hadn’t been visible when he was made up of magic, but it was clear some had been deep. Lifting a hand, she traced them with her fingers, annoyed at herself for damaging such a handsome beauty.
Drawing on magic, she wove together a healing energy and directed it to her fingertips. She ran her fingers over his whole face, treating every single scar and wound she had caused. By the time she finished, the shallow scars were fading while the others were turning a deep red as they healed.
She smiled, pleased with herself as she looked over him, and he let out a groan, tightening his grip on her and bringing her lips to his.
***
She stared into his eyes for the next two hours. He wanted them on him when he brought her to orgasm with his mouth, he wanted them on him when he was inside her, he wanted them on him when she fought against the restraint of his weight and the binding of her wrists, he wanted them on him all the time. Even after they were spent, lying on the floor of the room they were supposed to be looking for the book in, he wanted her eyes tilted up to him. And through the awareness, she was almost drunk on the strength of his pure delight.
"How did you do it?" she whispered, as she blinked lazily at him.
"The spell was wrong," he murmured. "Grandfather wrote the spell down incorrectly on that particular page, but he corrected it later in his research. I didn't realize that page had come directly from his tenebris research, otherwise I may have remembered that certain words were wrong. The Beta woman couldn’t hold the tenebris, and that is why she died, but her blindness and deafness were because the spell was incorrect."
"Where else could it have come from?"
"The Visant family have all added to the spell books over the years," Malloron said. "None of them put their name on the spells they added, it is supposed to be a sharing of knowledge between the bloodline, so any spell that is added to any book is supposed to be tested and proven and guaranteed to work. All of the family abide by that one rule when it comes to the spell books."
"But if that is true, how did the spell get in there?"
Malloron shrugged. "I can only assume that the page was separated for a reason."
Amara nodded, her eyes closing. "Maybe someone did not want anyone experimenting with it."
Malloron growled and gripped her head. "Open your eyes."
She huffed, frowning, but when her eyes opened, her annoyance was softened by the sight of his dimple and the relief bounding through the cloud within her. She cuddled closer to him, angling her face into his neck. "Let me lie here for a moment," she murmured.
Malloron encircled his arms around her and pressed her against him. “You healed me.”
Amara smiled. “I did.”
"So you only manipulate the Talent using your will?" Malloron asked. "And you don't go insane?"
"No," Amara said. "For some reason, Omegas do not suffer the same fate as others who use their will extensively."
Malloron released a growly hum. "That is interesting. Do you know why?"
Amara shrugged. "We were always taught that we were special, and that we were being trained for a worthwhile cause. It didn't seem strange that we could do things that nobody else could do or that we were not affected by some of the things others were. But now that you have talked about the research that your grandfather conducted, I’m wondering if it has to do with the ways in which Omegas interact with magic."
"Yes, that is what I’m thinking too," he murmured. He lowered and placed his forehead on hers. “Amara, I am going to try and draw from the tenebris.”
Amara lifted her head, a sudden apprehension bubbling in her stomach. “Do you need to?”
“Yes. It has been a long while.”
Amara nodded, her mood dropping as she suddenly realized that this was her main purpose to him. “All right… how is it done?”
“Just relax,” he said. “And look at me.”
As her eyes rose to meet his, the cloud of his awareness spread throughout her entire body until it seemed as though he had imprinted throughout her insides. The tenebris slowed to a drifting wave of energy that blended completely with him and then his awareness faded back to what it had been.
“Did it work?” she asked hesitantly.
Malloron slowly got to his feet. “Yes. Tell me how it felt.”
As she explained, he lifted her and left the room, carrying her back down the corridor as they spoke.
Amara never thought she would feel so relieved to return back to her rooms, but upon entering she was glad to be back among their combined scent and the familiar environment. She found she actually looked forward to being in Malloron’s arms, underneath him, and having him inside her, knotting her—there was an element of that experience that made her feel secure and safe.
When he took her again, she reveled in the experience of seeing him properly, hearing him fully and didn’t hold back as he roughly seized her body and mind in every way she loved. He even threw her over her favorite bench and strapped her in, pulling her hair so she was forced to look back at him as he rammed into her deep and savage, his cloud within her telling her how much he loved her gaze.
As they lay together afterward, she could sense that something was different. She paid attention to how his hand was moving over her body. He squeezed and pinched the sides of her stomach and ran his hands down the backs of her legs. He was distracted and she found she did not like that.
She turned, shifting her body until she was facing into his chest and lay her cheek on him. He let her settle and then continued to caress her and stroke her body. But he was still distracted.
She pressed her nose against his skin, and then lifted her head, seeking his neck. When nothing changed, she located the spot on his neck that drew her attention the most, the one most saturated with his scent, and began to lick it.
A shiver ran through his body and he stilled for a moment. Then, in a swift motion, his hand ran up her back, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and pulled her head back. He peered down at her but said nothing.
She squirmed in his grip and then gave up. “What are you thinking about?”
His dimple appeared. “You.”
“It doesn't feel like you’re thinking about me.”
He growled. “I am always thinking about you.”
Ignoring the tingling swoop in her stomach, Amara lifted her shoulders and a shrug. "It feels like you are still thinking about not being able to find the book."
Malloron hesitated. "I think I know where it is."
Amara’s brows rose. "So you will be able to find it?"
"I need to investigate but I’m fairly certain I know."
Amara peered at him. "It doesn't seem like you are happy that you know where it is."
"I’m not. If it’s where I think it is, it will be a great disappointment."
Amara didn't know what to say. "Is there anything I can do while I am here?"
"No. I need to go and speak to Emric, and then I may need to leave the castle for a short while."
The disappointment that dropped like lead in her stomach surprised her more than anything else. She inwardly chided herself for being silly. "But when you come back, you will have it?"
"Yes," Malloron said firmly.
Amara tried not to fidget. “Will you tell me about the children before you go?”
Malloron stilled. “No.”
Amara’s steadied herself, holding tight onto the disappointment that threatened. “So you’ll tell me when you get back?”
Malloron was quiet for a long moment. "I will. But it would require trust, Amara." His gaze on her never wavered. He rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him. She straddled him, and leaned forward, pressing her breasts against his hard chest. He inched up to kiss her, long and hard and then pulled back to look at her. “Will you give it to me? Full trust?”
“I will try, Malloron,” she said. “I will try.”
/> CHAPTER FOURTEEN
MALLORON
Malloron strode down the corridor, trying to order the thoughts crowding his mind.
Although his mood soared that Amara’s gorgeous blue eyes had reappeared—his elation had been tempered by the fact she had not yet claimed him and did not trust him, and he would no longer be happy until both of those things changed. He would never be satisfied with having just her body, and he would never be satisfied with only being able to elicit the reactions caused by her instincts. He wanted everything she was and he wanted her to give that to him. He wanted her at his side as his true queen and true mate. He wanted her to bear his children. He wanted every single thing that was possible—more than anything Drocco had. It was his right. And the only thing he had to do was tell her what she wanted to know—the one thing she had been willing to make another agreement about. As soon as he returned, he would do it and then she would have to make a decision. If she made the wrong one she would be forced to be at his side anyway until she admitted that she wanted and needed him. It could not be denied, regardless of what she thought of him.
Sharing that memory with Amara had been a risk. He had hoped she would not see him as weak and incapable, but instead she seemed to analyze his behavior and outlook. He wasn't sure if that was a good or bad outcome, but what he did know was that he loved talking and debating with her honestly and with no deception or charm or any other persona he usually communicated with. They were just talking openly and by attempting to understand him she was opening up to the idea of being with him. Of course, it was unnecessary for her to do that. All she had to do was admit that they were mates, and everything else would be easy from there.
The most enlightening thing that happened was that she had been emotional about that event in his childhood. She had cried for him and he did not expect that nor had any idea that he would feel so amazed by it. No one had ever cried for him or been mournful about his experiences. He didn't see his past as being sad or unavoidable, otherwise he would not be where he was today. If he didn't know what it was like to be helpless and unable to move, he wouldn't have helped Emric—and he wouldn't have had him in his employment.
