Crave To Conquer

by Zoey Ellis

  Drocco held his eye and kept his stance unchanged while he thought carefully. Although he was fully aware of Malloron’s obvious performance, he couldn’t automatically refuse anything that might help him find the Omegas. “If the Talent can do all that, why haven’t you done it?”

  The king shook his head. “I willingly admit that the Talent cannot do everything,” he said, his voice quieter. “The Talent is used in ways here that would interfere with any kind of use of that scale. Plus there are many accomplished crafters here.” He smiled ruefully. “If my ancestors had been smarter, they wouldn’t have given the knowledge away so freely. But the point is, the Western Lands are not united under one ruler like the Eastern Lands are now. In the Lox Empire, the Talent would catapult you to the greatest ruler history will ever know.”

  Drocco said nothing. Without a deeper understanding of the Talent, he had no idea if that was true or not but he wouldn’t be coerced by empty statements aimed to stroke his ego.

  “All I’m asking for in return is some of your warriors and training practices,” the king continued, observing Drocco.

  “My warriors are with me by choice, Malloron,” Drocco said, dropping the formal title. He noticed Malloron stiffen very slightly—clearly he didn’t like it. “I don’t force them to stay and I will not force them to go.”

  “They stay with you because of your ridiculous vow to give each of them an Omega,” Malloron snapped. “The only way you would even be able to do that is to make use of the Talent.” He glared at Drocco. “All I want is your process of creating such a formidable army. It is an excellent trade considering the multiple uses of the Talent.”

  “Yes, unless you build an army to rival mine and decide to cross the White Ocean,” Drocco shot back. “Then it would be a shit trade, wouldn’t it? I would be handing you the potential knowledge to overthrow me.”

  Malloron’s mouth tightened as he glared at Drocco, both of them remaining locked in a hot gaze.

  “Eventually your army will leave you and you will be vulnerable, Drocco,” Malloron glowered, rising from his seat. “All I need to do is wait until that day. You would be a fool to wait until then also. I’ll give you a month to reconsider.”

  The portal shimmered brighter and then faded into nothing.

  Drocco turned to Torin and watched the Talent-crafters release their hold on each other and begin to discuss. He had never truly considered using the Talent to aid him in ruling his Empire. In fact, the Lox had been ordered to cut down any and all Talent-crafters until Torin had pointed out that he would need them to defend against Malloron’s sneaky intrusions. The most skilled Talent-crafters in the Eastern Lands had been offered the chance to pledge their loyalty to the Lox, which involved offering the life of a family member as a sacrificial gift, but Drocco had no idea how skilled they actually were. According to Malloron, skill was everything.

  After speaking with the crafters, Torin approached him.

  “Did you get what you needed?” Drocco asked.

  “Yes,” he said. “They say they have enough information now to find a way to block the Talent in a specific enclosed area.”

  “How long will it take?”

  “A week or two. Where would you like them to set it up?”

  “The Great Hall.”

  Torin raised an eyebrow. “For the celebration?”

  “Exactly. We will have visitors from all territories. It’s the perfect time to test loyalties. They only have five days to do it.”

  Torin nodded and was silent for a moment. “Do you want to discuss Malloron’s offer?”

  “I need to know more about how the Talent works before I can make any decision.”

  “From what I understand from our Lox crafters, the Talent is the ability to affect and manipulate the magic that surrounds and penetrates everything that exists,” Torin explained. “The magic responds to ‘spells,’ which can be formed using certain words in the Ancient Tongue or certain actions of the hands, but is most powerful when bent by will. The mind has to reach a certain level of thought vibration to affect it by will.”

  “Thought vibration…” Drocco muttered. “This is why most Talent-crafters go insane at a young age.”

  Torin nodded. “The most skilled ones tend to, yes. And it’s why most tend to use word or hand spells.”

  Drocco nodded, deep in thought.

  “Would you like to meet with the Talent-crafters? They can explain it better than I can.”

  “Not right now,” Drocco said, turning away from him. He hadn’t been to see Cailyn that morning and a pressing urge to visit the research room had risen. “Make sure they are working on protecting the Great Hall by the time of the celebration.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CAILYN

  Cailyn was pleased that a plan had been arranged for her to leave Ashens.

  Initially, she had been worried that the Records Keep staff would know that she wasn’t Miss Lefroy, but she should have known that the Mothers would have assistance in every area of the Eastern Lands. An Omega male she knew from a prior job worked at the Keep. Of course, he had blocks too and came across as a Beta in every way. He was one of the ‘dynamic variants’ the head keeper had referred to and, for him, it was just as dangerous to reveal his true dynamic as it was for her.

  Male Omegas were rare, and even more so since their families tended to murder them after discovering their dynamic. When the female Omegas began to disappear, the birth rate of male Omegas seemed to slow, and many had thought they were taken too, but in fact, they were simply being protected by the Mothers until they could protect themselves. Most of them led peaceful lives throughout the Lands assisting the Mothers however they could.

  Her Omega contact at the Keep had been awaiting her arrival and had already put in place a plan to assist her cover. He had been sure he could arrange an exit strategy for her and had been in the middle of explaining it when Drocco had stormed over like the savage he was.

  His need for control was stifling, as was his distrust of anyone who was not Lox. He watched her in the research room for hours every day, his imposing presence making her acutely aware of him. And then, when he wasn’t there, the room had an imposing absence that she didn’t like either. The day after the visit to the Records Keep he hadn’t been in the room much and the wide, heavy chair in the corner he normally sat in remained empty. More than once, Cailyn caught herself standing in the room with files in her hands staring at it and… thinking about him.

  Although her body hadn’t physically reacted, it wasn’t a good sign. Her blocks were still firmly in place and to be having an instinctual reaction to him when he wasn’t even in the room was highly worrying. All she could do was hope that the Mothers had an answer. She couldn’t continue to be an effective spy if her blocks were compromised.

  In truth, he still terrified and disgusted her, but there was something else about him—something in his dark eyes, his confident manner, his steadfast conviction. She couldn’t pinpoint it and wasn’t sure if she even wanted to. Every moment she wasted thinking about him was a moment lost. All she had to do was remember what they had discovered at the Records Keep to remind herself of that.

  She had always known about the Omegas’ suffering but never had she imagined that it had caused a death rate to such an extreme. It was horrific. That knowledge alone kept her pushing herself to focus. She had been covertly copying relevant files, even with the Emperor in the room. Since he wanted her to make comments on his files, it became a good cover to make her own copies.

  Two days after the visit, the communication she had been waiting for arrived. In her stack of fresh blank parchment, one sheet had a very slight sheen, glistening more than the others. Watching the closed door, she headed over to the desk in the far corner and sat on the floor, obscuring herself out of sight in case the Emperor entered.

  She placed the parchment flat on the floor and focused her mind. Searching the tightly woven layers of magic threaded into the sheet of parchme
nt, she identified the extremely subtle indicators that showed the correct order to unravel it. As she did so, the message appeared:

  Exit strategy not possible. You have his attention.

  Routine will impede escape.

  When distraction is achieved, create signal.

  Cailyn closed her eyes immediately for a short moment and then opened them and read the message again. As her eyes reached the end, it faded and the ink began to flake away. She got up and brushed the parchment until it was clean. She stood for a moment, dismay thudding through her as she thought about the implication of the message. She wouldn’t be getting out of there while everything in the Palace ran routinely. Only a distraction would allow her to slip away unnoticed and signal for help. She sighed, throwing down the parchment. She had told her contact at the Keep that the Emperor watched her constantly and he seemed to think it would still be fine. Why was having his attention suddenly a problem?

  She thought for a long while, before realizing she was staring at his damn chair again. She cursed and busied herself copying the last of the important files she needed while trying to think up a plan. She needed to create some kind of distraction, but how? She would never be able to get out of the research room and create it without being noticed. She had studied plans of the Palace but she hadn’t ever explored it, and it was huge. One wrong turn and she could end up anywhere.

  Her mood sunk lower and by the afternoon she became angry with herself that she hadn’t thought of anything. This kind of task was similar to the training exercises she used to thrive on. And now she couldn’t think up one single escape distraction.

  When Emperor Drocco entered, she actually scowled at him, agitated by the disturbance of her thinking time and annoyed that he had taken so long to come to her today.

  He slowed to a stop at the sight of her expression, his eyes narrowing. “Is there something you wish to say?” It wasn’t so much a question as a demand.

  “No.” She forced herself to answer in a mild manner when she really wanted to scream at him. “No, Emperor,” she added, politely, before going back to her work.

  He remained still and silent for a long while as she moved back and forth to the tables, then she heard him lowering into his chair.

  ***

  A couple of days later, Cailyn stood in her living room by the glass wall, staring out over the city as the burnt orange sun lowered behind the smooth, jagged, uneven skyline. Ashens had been one of the more prettier cities in the Eastern Lands before the war between King Thororm of Ashens and the Lox began. There seemed to be no reason for its destruction. Many theories circled around the Emperor’s dispute with the late king, but nothing had been confirmed by either party. Now it was a city of contrasts; the broken next to the beauty, the loyal among the traitors, the truth in plain sight among those that had been conditioned not to see.

  Cailyn sighed and sipped her water while she returned her thoughts to the options for the distraction she needed. She hadn’t come up with any strong ideas, only mediocre ones. She shouldn’t really take a chance when dealing with Emperor Drocco, but she really wanted to get out of the Palace. She had hardly seen Drocco lately and without his presence, she had sped up the copying of the files and sent everything to the Mothers with a note of her own. It was time to go.

  A heavy knock fell on the door, startling her out of her thoughts. She made her way over to collect her dinner and found herself looking at an empty-handed young man.

  “You have been summoned by Emperor Drocco, Miss Lefroy.”

  Cailyn’s brows rose. “Why?”

  The man widened his eyes at her question and instantly she realized he wouldn’t know. Of course, no one questioned the Emperor.

  “Is he expecting me right now?”

  “Yes, Miss Lefroy.”

  Cailyn sighed. Taking a moment to ensure she was presentable, she followed the servant through a number of corridors and stopped outside an intricately engraved set of double doors.

  “You may enter, Miss Lefroy,” the man said, gesturing to the door.

  Cailyn took a moment to compose herself before entering.

  She stepped into a large room with heavy multi-colored rugs, cream walls and windows along the back wall letting in the last of the evening sun. A mahogany dining table sat on one side of the room and the Emperor sat at the head, watching her as she entered.

  “How may I help you, Emperor,” Cailyn asked, lowering her head.

  “You are to dine with me,” he said, his cold gaze taking her in. “Take a seat.”

  Cailyn glanced up, confused. He planned to have dinner with her? “Excuse me for being bold, Emperor,” she began, “but I have a lot of work to do—”

  “You are done for the day,” the Emperor stated, as though bored. He began pouring red liquid from a glass jug into two glasses.

  “Emperor,” Cailyn said, trying again. “I really need to be spending all my time working if I’m to meet the dead—”

  “So you were working in your quarters?” He served her a glare, placing the jug down. “With files I told you not to remove from the research room?”

  “No, Emperor.”

  “Then you are available,” he said. “And from what I understand, you were awaiting your dinner.”

  Cailyn mumbled confirmation that she had been and then pressed her lips together to avoid saying anything more. She moved to the other end of the table, only to discover that the only other chair at the table, apart from the Emperor’s, was positioned on the corner right next to him. She hesitated. Normally a visitor of equal standing would sit opposite the host, while a visitor of lesser standing or an employee might sit a few seats down along one side. They were certainly not seated next to the host like their confidant, lover, or mate. He was making a statement by removing all the chairs.

  “You will sit here,” Emperor Drocco said, gesturing to the other chair after she hesitated too long.

  She glanced around the room for any other chairs, but the rest of the furniture consisted of plush, teal couches, end tables, and short bookcases.

  “Sit,” ordered the Alpha.

  “Are there no other chairs?” she asked. She couldn’t be so close to him again.

  “They are not needed,” he said, his voice deepening. “You will sit here.”

  Annoyed with his demand, and frustrated with her lack of choice, a retort slipped out of her before she had time to even think about it. “If you’re having a problem securing furniture, I could arrange help for you, Emperor. There’s no need to live like a foolish market trader.”

  The man’s entire body tensed and his eyes slipped into a darkness she hadn’t seen before. Instantly, she reined in her scowl and hurried toward the chair. As she sat down he grabbed her jaw and yanked her face close to his.

  “That is the last fucking time you will speak to me in that way, kitten,” he rumbled. “I have been extremely lenient with your attitude, as I’m sure you recognize, but it is becoming tiresome. Am I clear?”

  She stared at his face looming in front of her and nodded, unable to speak with her jaw tight in his grip.

  “Good.” He slowly let go of her but kept his face close. As his eyes flitted over her face, the look in them changed, and there it was—that feeling again.

  Cailyn leaned back, away from him, and took a breath, resisting the urge to rub her jaw. She turned her attention to the table. A number of jugs filled with water and other colored liquids had been placed among empty plates and bowls.

  The Emperor clapped his hands and a line of servants entered bringing with them steaming bowls and plates of food.

  Cailyn’s mouth watered as the delicious spicy aromas filled the room. She stared at the numerous plates and bowls being placed down on the table; cold and hot slices of spiced meat, curried and baked potatoes, fragrant stews of all colors, buttered greens, crusty charcoaled bread, mashed roots, and even delicacies like peppered cow tongue, jellied purple eggs, and cracked claw.

  “Do you e
at like this all the time?” she asked the Emperor, in wonder.

  “Not really,” he said. “I wasn’t sure what you ate. Pick what you’d like.”

  Cailyn selected a small range of dishes to try and began to eat cautiously.

  “What progress have you made so far?” The Emperor asked, spooning meat stew into his mouth.

  Cailyn kept her eyes down. “I found reference to information about the Alpha/Omega connection.”

  “Yes.” The Emperor hesitated. “Is that of importance?”

  “I’m not sure,” Cailyn said. “It could be. No current living Alpha has ever been with an Omega, have they?”

  Emperor Drocco let out a growl that caused her to glance up at him. “No. What has this got to do with the investigation?”

  “I was thinking that maybe an Alpha that had bonded with an Omega could be used to locate her.”

  “No, that theory has already been disproved,” he said. “Wherever the Omegas go, it isn’t possible for their mates to locate them.”

  “Hmm…” Cailyn said, feigning thoughtfulness.

  “What?”

  “Well, that in itself is interesting. There are very few places where the connection cannot be felt.”

  “I never said the connection could not be felt,” the Emperor said. “The connection can indeed be felt, very deeply. I’m willing to guess that the bonded Omegas who were taken suffered greatly.”