Far below, on the training grounds, Aurus lets out a growl. It’s one rich sound in a cacophony of others, but my body responds like he tripped my trigger. There’s a deep, intense thump in my clit and slick gushes from my pussy, sliding down my thighs.
Shit.
The Alpha guards face me again. Their eyes are black slits. Their nostrils flare.
My feet feel unsteady on the railing. “I’ll jump,” I warn them. “I mean it.”
The guards are too far gone into madness to listen. They lunge, arms outstretched, to grab me.
With a cry, I turn, and hurl myself into the air.
* * *
Aurus
The thick perfume is coming from above. Shouts rise from the gallery. A warning growl vibrates from my chest.
“Your Majesty!” A slim Beta servant runs up, his robes flapping around his skinny legs. Thank Ulf someone with a brain is here—my warriors are behaving like Alphas about to enter the rut. “What is happening?”
“Get them out,” I snarl. “The Omega is here.”
The Beta’s nostrils flare. “The Omega?” he squeaks. “Where?”
I answer with an echoing growl.
Another wave of scent hits the training grounds. As one, we turn—I, and every other Alpha in the place.
There’s a small, short cry and Kim appears, flying from the long balcony. Her legs and arms windmill, then somehow she grabs onto the curtain. She has a weapon in her hand, it pierces the fabric and slows her descent. With a loud rip, the curtain parts, and she grabs a hunk of it and swings down to the sand. I lurch forward, but she’s already landed. Safely.
“Fuck yeah,” she shouts. Now I can see she’s holding some sort of knife. Her hair looks shorter, sticking out on all sides like she’s been struck by lightning.
The Alphas beside me are motionless, staring.
I have to go to her, but the Beta is blocking my way. “Your Majesty—what do I do?” He wrings his hands.
“Get the Elite Forces,” I snap, and shove him towards the exit. “Helmets. Shock sticks. Protect her!” I shout over my shoulder as I start to run.
The Beta scuttles off, robes flapping. He’ll get the Elite Forces to clear the arena of rut-mad Alphas. But it might be too late.
I’m on the far side of the arena, opposite Kim. I dash over the raised platform, past the gong. Sand flies in my wake.
Kim’s kicking at her transparent gown, trying to squirm out of the panels. The long knife flashes as she slices the fabric. Ulf, now her garment barely reaches the tops of her slender thighs.
When she’s done, what’s left of the gown is a gossamer, translucent tunic that conceals nothing. Her pert, pointy little tits, her leeberry nipples, her brightly colored tattoo—every inch of her is on display not just to me, but to every other Ulfdamn soldier currently in the arena with me.
And there are dozens of them.
All Alphas. Every single one’s gaze is locked on her peach and gold form.
“Leave the arena,” I bellow. “That’s an order!”
Some Alphas break out of the spell and move to obey. But a few, the ones closest to Kim, don’t seem to hear. Two or three make a break for her. The biggest of them pushes the others out of the way, and moves in for the prize.
* * *
Kim
I must have been a stunt devil in my past life, or some sort of gymnast. Or a martial arts enthusiast, or all of the above. Because I am badass. I sliced that curtain and swung on the torn sashes like fucking Tarzan.
