Reign to Ravage

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Reign to Ravage Page 16

by Zoey Ellis


  "Every Alpha says that about Omegas," Malloron said sternly. "It does not mean that you are owed one. As I told you before, I only have my Omega, I do not have any others."

  "But you have an alliance with Emperor of the Lox, is that right?" the shinno asked, his turquoise eyes gleaming. "You have the kind of alliance that we are hoping to build. You will use it to get me an Omega."

  "Emperor Drocco will not trade Omegas," Malloron said through gritted teeth. There was no point in even attempting to ask Drocco for what the shinno was asking for. He already knew the answer. "It cannot be any point of discussion or negotiation. He will not do it."

  The shinno lifted his shoulders. "The problem is yours. I want an Omega before I leave here or we have no deal."

  Malloron exhaled harshly, clenching his fists with frustration. "You have not even used the restrained," he said hotly. "Those women you just fucked were members of your tribe. How are we supposed to agree to terms if you do not even sample them?"

  "The Alphas of my tribe have indulged," the shinno said, as though he was bored. "I myself am not keen on bondage. I see no point in a woman being bound and unable to move in the way that is natural when her body is overcome with pleasure."

  "The restrained can be whatever you want them to be," Malloron explained. "The training will allow them to behave in any way you wish."

  "They cannot behave like Omegas," the shinno pointed out.

  "No one can," Malloron bellowed, annoyed. "Even those on Haze recreators do not truly act like Omegas."

  Shinno Kardos rose to his feet. "Yes. And you only know that because you have one," he said, harshly. "If you want to spare your subordinate, then I will accept nothing less than an Omega."

  His tone suggested it was his final word on the matter. Malloron inclined his head, careful to keep his expression neutral, and bid him farewell.

  Annoyance bounded through him, as he swiftly walked through the castle, navigating down to the cell where Banon was being kept. Shinno Kardos’ expectation of an Omega was ridiculous—Emperor Drocco would not simply hand them out. He had to find another way to get him to agree to their exchange. He needed a well-trained army now that things with the rulers were progressing, and he was eager to make the deal and then get the shinno and his people out of Eiros.

  He arrived at Banon’s cell. Emric had kept Banon out of the dungeons and put him in a holding cell used for the prisoners of guests if they were passing through Eiros. It was cleaner and brighter than the cells used for Malloron’s prisoners, but it was still a cell.

  When he entered, Emric was standing close to the bars, holding onto them, while Banon stood on the other side, his large hand closed over Emric’s. They stood staring at each other, and Malloron felt almost certain he was interrupting an important moment, but it could not be helped.

  Neither man noticed he had entered until he was almost at Emric’s shoulder. Emric jumped. "Your Majesty!" He twisted his hand away from underneath Banon’s, with much difficulty, and stepped back. Banon dragged his eyes from Emric and then lowered his head. "Your Majesty."

  "Emric," Malloron said. "Go to your room and wait there for me."

  Emric opened his mouth in surprise. He glanced at Banon and then dipped his head about before hurrying away.

  Malloron moved to face Banon and examined him closely. Even though Banon had always had a wild look about him, he was most certainly in some kind of rut. His body was tense with agitation, his gray eyes had darkened, and his fists squeezed tight against bars that he held onto after Emric pulled his hands away. But Malloron suddenly realized he had seen Banon in this state before… many times before over the years, in fact. He had just thought it was his temperament. Malloron wondered if he had been in a rut the day he had asked him that ludicrous question about his involvement with Emric.

  “Your Majesty," Banon said, with some difficulty. "I do not wish to insult you, but I am very uncomfortable with the thought of you in a room with Emric."

  "Banon—"

  "It’s not just you," Banon interrupted. "Any Alpha near him is a problem for me. I cannot control this feeling or my actions. You have been right to put me in here, but I cannot find a way to distract myself like I usually can." He lifted his head to meet Malloron’s eyes. “I have been consumed with finding a way to tear down the cell to get to him."

  "Banon," Malloron said firmly, raising a palm. "This is not your fault you feel this way. I’m trying to find a solution for you, but I need to know if you spoke to Emric."

  Banon breathed heavy and shook his head slightly as if to clear it. "It has been easier to speak to him since I’ve been in here," Banon said. "But he is not convinced by anything I say. He seemed to have softened at one point, but he is not able to trust me." His hands tightened further on the bars until they began to turn white, his face contorting. "Not like he trusts you."

  Malloron turned and left the cell without saying anything further. He couldn't envisage the conversation going any more constructively than what Banon had already told him. He made his way to Emric’s room. It was tucked away at the end of a winding corridor in a part of the castle that was pretty quiet. When he entered, Emric was pacing in the center of his main living area, which was neat and furnished with sophistication.

  "Did you see how sick he was, Your Majesty?" Emric said, almost breathlessly. "He could barely keep to any conversation."

  Malloron closed the door behind him. "What were you discussing with him?"

  "I was trying to explain to him why his behavior was wrong," Emric explained. "There are some instances where the tribes will accept an apology provided they are able to give a non-lethal punishment as well."

  Malloron strode into the center of the space. "And did Banon understand that his behavior was wrong?"

  "No." Emric wringed his hands in desperation. "He didn't really listen to anything I said. He just wants to keep… explaining things to me."

  "Like what?"

  Emric lowered his eyes. "Your Majesty," he said quietly. "It is not for your ears. I think he might be delusional."

  "If he has been saying the same thing for years upon years, it cannot be argued that he is delusional, Emric."

  Emric’s eyes snapped to Malloron’s. He dropped his hands and then sat down on the couch. "What he’s saying is not true," he said uncomfortably. "He cannot be my mate. He just wants to use me because it is easy to manipulate me."

  "How so?"

  "It is difficult for me to… reject him most of the time, Your Majesty." Emric said miserably.

  Malloron nodded. "Then why do you not believe him? Has he done something to earn your distrust?"

  “I have learned not to trust at all," Emric said. "It is safer for me. I’m sure you understand. Your Majesty, you are the same. You trust no one. It is the most useful thing I have learned from you."

  Malloron regarded him for a long moment. Before Amara he would have agreed, but now… "I found out more about Gammas, Emric."

  Emric froze. He opened his mouth but nothing came out, and then closed it again.

  "Gammas do have Hazes," Malloron said. "But only their mates can detect it, which means Banon is your true mate. Your Haze has sent him into a rut to protect you. That is his priority right now. He doesn't care about trying to explain himself or if what he did may have offended the tribe, he just wants you close to him and he wants you safe."

  Emric stared at Malloron in disbelief.

  "It is hardwired into him to do so, Emric. He is the one you must trust the most. There is no other bond that is more trustworthy than the bond between mates." This is what he needed Amara to understand. She didn't trust what she was feeling, regardless of how many times he tried to show her it was real. "What I came here to find out was whether you felt anything for him, because it seems to me that you have been rejecting him this whole time, and I don't wish to enforce him upon you if that’s not what you want. You are both two of my most treasured servants. You have both been loyal and worked for me
for decades without wavering once. But Banon can be replaced—you cannot. So I need you to be honest."

  Emric exhaled out a long breath. “He hurt me,” he said quietly. “He hurt me in the past… in a deep way. I cannot trust someone who has done that.”

  Malloron almost growled. “So you will never trust him? Even if he regrets it?”

  “Does he?”

  Malloron blinked, taken aback by the question, suddenly realizing he had been talking about himself. He looked around the room, frustrated. “So you will never forgive him or trust him? Even if he is your mate?”

  Emric turned his attention away as he thought, his hands dropping to his sides and a heavy sigh releasing from his chest. After a long moment, he turned to Malloron. “Would you, Your Majesty?”

  Malloron tensed. “Would I what?”

  “Would you trust Queen Amara completely if you were vulnerable to her, knowing she is your true mate?”

  Malloron scowled, a sudden rush of the most uncomfortable feeling embracing him. “This is not about me.”

  Emric nodded, his gaze lowering. “It is easy to expect to be trusted when you are the one who is strong. When you are the weak dynamic it is harder.”

  Malloron exhaled heavily, turning away annoyed at his words. A servant should not be saying that to him. He suddenly stopped, noticing something in the adjoining room. Stepping to the doorway, his face slackened at what he saw.

  “Your Majesty,” Emric almost squealed, rushing to him. “Please don't go in there!”

  Malloron turned to him with a growl. “You are nesting?”

  Emric stilled, a bewildered expression on his face. “Is that what it’s called?”

  Malloron pointed to the ball of sheets and blankets that had been stripped off the bed and arranged on the floor. “What would you call it?”

  Emric began to splutter but it was clear he had no idea what to say. Malloron simply stared at him in disbelief. The Gamma would rather nest alone because he was so afraid of trusting his Alpha? Is that how far Amara would take it? Would she never accept him, regardless of their obvious attraction and connection?

  Malloron made a decision. He strode to the door. “Release Banon and have him with you tonight.”

  “What?” Emric gasped.

  Malloron turned to him. “I want you to give Banon a chance. Have him with you in your nest tonight and tell him your concerns. Then you tell me tomorrow your decision.”

  “But—”

  “That is an order, Emric!”

  Emric froze and then bowed low, but when he rose, his eyes glistened.

  “How far did you get searching for the book?” Malloron asked, ignoring his tears.

  "I haven't found it yet," Emric responded. "I began my search on the far left and started making my way around the room. I have marked the piles I have already searched. I will get back to it as soon as possible, Your Majesty."

  "No," Malloron said thoughtfully. "I will look for it myself. You prepare for tonight."

  Emric nodded glumly as Malloron left.

  Malloron made his way back to Amara in deep thought. It disturbed him that Emric was prepared to discard an Alpha that could only be his and no one else’s, even after he was told it was the case. Drocco had also advised that trust played a big part in an Omega’s acceptance of her Alpha, and based on Emric this had not been underestimated. But how would he get Amara to trust him? He had tried to be as honest as he could with her since he had bought her back to the castle, but he did not know how much she believed him. Based on her attempted manipulation, he had doubts she had any trust in him at all. This was new ground for him in every way. He wanted—needed—to dominate her completely, but each time he thought he would be satisfied with one thing, he realized that there was more he needed—like her heart, and now her trust. Using the tricks of manipulation and the method of agreements he had always relied on the Western Lands had backfired with her. And using force had only worked to a certain extent. Now he was at a loss as to how to get her the way he wanted her. He had never had to get anyone to trust him before—he was king. He didn't need or rely on anyone’s trust.

  He entered back into her room quietly. Although he was eager to see her, the consuming desire to get back to her had not risen. Perhaps it was because her hum vibrated in him constantly, telling him where she was and that she was still sleeping. That reassurance settled some of his need to be with her, although the only thing that truly mellowed it was seeing her and touching her.

  He watched her as she slept, curled around a pillow. While it was true that she would soften to him over time, he wanted that to happen now. Immediately. He wanted her to be proud to claim him, but without her acceptance it would never happen. He sunk his fingers over her scalp and pulled them through her long hair. One thing was clear, he had to get more information about how the tenebris was affecting her—affecting them both. Although he had been mating and knotting Amara constantly for over five full weeks, she was not yet with child and she was not even nesting properly. Something about that was strange. Emperor Drocco said that Omegas go into their Haze irregularly if they have been blocking their Omega signals, but usually the first exposure they have to their Alpha will induce one. Amara had gone into her Haze as soon as the tenebris began to enter her, which was as soon as her magical blocks were destroyed, so that was consistent with what he said, but Malloron would have still expected her to be pregnant with the amount of his seed she had taken. And even if it took a while for another Haze to come upon her, she should at least be nesting.

  "Amara," Malloron said, running his hand over her velvety skin.

  She stirred, turning toward him and rubbing her eyes. "You’re back?"

  "Yes. Put your clothes on, we’re going to find the book."

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  AMARA

  Of course, Malloron did indeed insist on carrying her when they left the room. Although she rolled her eyes as he lifted her up, she couldn't help but enjoy being against his chest as he strode along the corridors. There was something that happened when he carried her—when he was so adamant to have her in his arms and protect her with his body. She… liked it. Though she had trouble admitting it to herself.

  They seem to navigate the corridor for ages and Amara noticed he entered yet another part of the castle she had never seen before. Eiros Castle was much bigger than it looked. She wondered if parts of it were manipulated or hidden by magic—it wouldn't be unusual for the royal family to hide their most important areas of the castle.

  The king slowed to a stop outside of a wide door guarded by numerous, fierce-looking Alphas. He entered and carefully made his way across the space.

  The large room was in complete disarray; it was like one of the old-fashioned potion rooms that Mother Orlee had once told her about. Potion masters would be completely protective over their ingredients, recipes, and methods to make potions, and so would store them in hidden rooms where they could experiment in peace. This room had all the shelves and cabinets to hold ingredients and potion bottles, and even a mixing desk where potions would be mixed and brewed. But for some reason, the room was in poor condition. Some of the furniture was broken and it didn't look very well stocked. How could this be a treasured room for the Visant family?

  Malloron placed her down in a wide, deep armchair. "Stay here for a moment, let me make sure it is safe."

  "Why wouldn't it be safe?"

  "There was smashed glass on the floor," Malloron said gesturing to an area of the room. "I want to make sure none has lingered." With a gesture of his hand, a gust of magic swept through the room. He glanced back at Amara and nodded, signifying it was okay for her to get out of the chair.

  Within the hour, they had allocated themselves to a pile and began looking through. Amara sat cross-legged on the floor while Malloron pulled up a chair and leaned over to look at each book. According to him, the book they were looking for was very specific, and yet the title of it was not on the cover but on the fifth pa
ge inside, which meant they had to look in every single book.

  "I can't believe Emric did all those on his own," Amara said gesturing to the two piles Emric had separated and left a note on. "It must have taken him ages."

  Malloron grunted his response. "He does good work."

  Amara glanced at him. "Is he your friend?"

  "No. He is my servant."

  Amara shrugged. "Why can't he be a friend too?"

  "Servants cannot be friends."

  "That sounds like your father’s words," Amara commented.

  Parchment rustled as Malloron flicked through pages. "My father was right about many things he taught me."

  Amara made a face. "He taught you not to have friends and separated you from your siblings. That leads to a lonely life."

  Malloron shrugged as he threw the book onto a new pile. "Maybe it seems lonely to you, but friends come with risks and betrayal. As king, it is not worth it."

  Amara picked up a new book. "But what about your family? Surely your siblings understand your position. It is possible to be friends with your brothers and sisters. Why didn't you make the effort after your father died?"

  "The only effort with them I made was to send all of my sisters into sexual slavery and force nearly all my brothers to work in the mines owned by merchants I have business dealings with. I refuse to be weak for them. I do not care about their lives."

  Amara’s head shot up, horror descending on her. "Why?" she gasped. "How could you do that to them. They are your brothers and sisters!"

  Malloron did not answer. He kept lifting books from the pile, flipping into the fifth page and placing them on the new pile. But Amara couldn't let it go. She put her book down and made her way to him, prepared to argue with him once again about his treatment of others. He could not expect her to feel comfortable being with someone who dealt with people in such a way—this was his actual family he was talking about. His own blood. How could he treat them so badly? But when she placed a hand on his shoulder, he looked up at her, and his eyes were so fiercely dark that all thought went out of her head.

 

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