I tilt her head to the side, exposing the curve of her neck where her scent gland pulses beneath golden skin. The scent of her is overwhelming here—pure Omega, pure mate—and my Alpha instincts scream at me to bite, to complete the bond permanently, to mark her as mine in a way that can never be undone. My fangs descend, aching to sink into that soft flesh. One bite, and she would be mine forever. One bite, and every Alpha who ever looked at her would know she was claimed.
But then, I sense it—beneath her anger and lingering arousal, there's genuine terror. Not of the pain, not of being taken, but of losing herself completely. Of being permanently bound to me with no hope of escape. The fear is so visceral, so absolute, that it actually gives me pause.
I hover there, fangs extended, breath hot against her scent gland. She's frozen in my arms, waiting for the bite she knows is coming. Her entire body has gone rigid, and I can feel her heart hammering against my palm where it rests over her breast.
"Please," she whispers, so quietly I almost don't hear it. "Please don't."
Something in that broken plea affects me in a way her defiance never could. My fangs retract slightly as I consider the trembling Omega in my arms. I've broken countless enemies, claimed countless conquests, and never once hesitated. So why am I hesitating now?
CHAPTER 9
THE RUT
Makalai
"Well," I say after a moment, injecting dark humor into my voice to cut through the tension, "this is awkward."
She doesn't respond, but I feel her confusion through the bond, some of the terror ebbing away.
"I mean, I had a whole speech prepared," I continue, pressing a kiss to her shoulder that makes her flinch. "Something about eternal bonds and dark magic and how you'd bear my mark forever. Very dramatic. I was quite proud of it."
"You're insane," she breathes, but some of the abject terror has faded from her voice.
"Probably," I agree, nuzzling against her neck right over her scent gland, making her tense again. I inhale deeply, savoring her scent even as I deny myself the bite. "But consider this—if I bite you now, while you're this terrified, it's just going to piss me off every time I feel that fear through our bond. Seems counterproductive."
I shift slightly, making her gasp as my knot pulses within her, another small wave of release spilling into her. "Besides, this way I get to hold it over your head. Every day you'll wonder—is today the day he claims me? The anticipation will be delicious."
"You're a monster," she says, but there's less venom in it now, more exhaustion.
"Oh, absolutely," I agree. "But I'm a monster with excellent strategic thinking."
The bond pulses with her hatred still burning bright, but the paralyzing terror has subsided to something more manageable. Her body slowly relaxes against mine, though I suspect that's more exhaustion than acceptance.
We lie there in silence for a few moments, locked together, her back pressed against my chest. My shadows drift lazily around us, occasionally brushing against her skin and making her shiver. Through the bond, I feel her emotions slowly settling—still turbulent, still furious, but no longer that knife-edge of panic.
"Your father," she says suddenly, her voice hoarse. "Erlik. The Lord of Darkness. What's he like?"
I go still behind her. It's not the question I expected—I thought she'd hurl more insults, more threats, more promises of my eventual demise. Not... curiosity about my father.
"Why do you want to know?" I ask, keeping my voice carefully neutral.
"Because we're apparently going to be stuck like this for a while," she says flatly, "and I'd rather talk than lie here in silence contemplating how much I want to murder you."
Fair enough.
"My father," I muse, absently stroking my thumb across her hip. "Imagine the worst father you can think of. Now add immortality and absolute power. Then multiply by a thousand years of refinement in cruelty."
She's quiet, waiting.
I don't know why I keep talking. Perhaps it's the bond, lowering walls I've spent centuries constructing. Perhaps it's the strange intimacy of being locked inside her, her body still pulsing around my knot. Perhaps I simply want her to understand exactly what kind of monster she's married to—and what made him that way.
"Erlik doesn't have children because he wants heirs," I say, my voice dropping lower. "He has children because he wants weapons. Tools. Extensions of his will. I was the third son—the two before me failed to meet his standards."
"Failed how?"
"They died," I say simply. "During training. Erlik doesn't believe in coddling his offspring. If you can't survive his methods, you're not worth keeping." I trace a pattern on her skin with one finger, watching shadows follow in its wake. "I survived. Sometimes I wonder if that makes me the lucky one or the cursed one."
Through the bond, I feel her hatred shift slightly—not disappearing, not softening, but... complicating. There's something else there now, something that might be understanding.
