I prowl back and forth in the adjacent room to hers, close enough that I can hear her should she call for me but far enough away to have space to think. To regain control.
Did I misjudge our cycles? Am I still in rut? Is that why I feel so… disordered?
Replaying all our recent conversations in my mind, I work to find the source of my current disquiet. Frankly, it could be any or all of them. Renee has a way of riling me unlike anyone I’ve met before, which is partly why she’s now tied to the bed, writhing with frustration, waiting for me to return and grant her what she so desperately wants. I had to reestablish dominance. She is the pet. I am the Master.
Ulf knows, Plutus gives me no such trouble, and he is by far the deadlier of the two.
After the conversation we had about what she referred to asBDSM, I thought giving her a collar would be a good way to remind her of her place. I wasn’t prepared for the surge of pride I’d feel upon seeing it locked around her pale throat. A symbol of my ownership of her.
My castle is filled with treasures. I’ve always collected things of beauty, or value, or both, since I was young. I’m also insanely possessive. My mother once remarked on that, after she accidentally spilled some juice on one of my scrolls, ruining it. I flew into such a rage that I almost attacked her. She later confided in me that for a brief moment, she’d been afraid for her life as I ranted and raved, destroying the ruined scroll and several others, shredding them and announcing that she would be next if she touched any of my things again.
It wasn’t that she’d ruined the scroll that infuriated me—it was that she’d touched it. “It may be a blessing after all that there are no more Omegas,” she said later, when I had calmed down somewhat and apologized for roaring at her. “If you’re this possessive over a mere scroll, I dread to think how you’d be with a mate when you’re in rut.”
“I have no need of a mate,” I told her, “since I have no desire for offspring, and prefer my own company.” My father would never approve of my refusal to continue his line, but I was old enough to want to defy him.
She gave me a long, assessing look, her unusual eyes searching my face. Then, “You’ll change your mind, my son. When you’re grown, you’ll come to appreciate what a blessing it is to have a companion in life. You are not meant to rule alone. I pray that Ulf in His wisdom blesses you with an Omega, and if not an Omega, another who can rule beside you as a queen.”
Unwilling to argue, I remained silent, but inwardly, I had scoffed. And who was proven right in the end? Who now has an Omega and yet still no inclination to make her his queen? Who uses magic to ensure there will be no offspring?
I do.
I signal to a hoveringjynxto bring me some wine, and resume pacing. My thoughts return to the present. While I have no plans to make Renee my equal, I do not want to share her with anybody. Nor do I want her to leave. After all, who in their right mind would willingly give up their possessions?
But she’s a stubborn little thing, and I have no doubt she will continue to pester me about meeting the other Hoo-man Omegas until I either relent, or am driven insane by her persistent clamoring. I tap my teeth with my talon. There must be a solution.
The servant has returned with my wine. I drain it and am about to return to Renee when thejynxtells me there’s something I should know.
“Well?” I snap when no more is forthcoming. “What is it?”
News of your new pet has reached Altrim. The Wanderer King and his queen are requesting a meeting.
“They can request all they want,” I snarl. “I do not answer to Khan. I do not answer to any of the other kings. Or anyone else!”
Thejynxis about to leave when it hits me: the solution. So easy. So obvious.
“Wait,” I command. “Give them this message: we will convene via the orbs tomorrow as the suns set.”
Thejynxbobs and weaves away. I roll my shoulders, already feeling lighter. By tomorrow, my Omega pet will belong to me as completely as if she were part of my own body. She might still be able to leave, but she will never want to. And I will never have to worry about losing her again.
* * *
Renee
This demon’s going to be the death of me. The buzzing against my clit makes my arousal rise in an all-consuming wave, only for it to die away when the little torture device stops its wicked vibration. I’m burning up. I rock but can’t move far in my bonds. The motion only jostles the butt plug within me, and waves of feverish heat rush through me. I’m drenched, my leaking pussy soaking the sheets.
How long will he leave me like this? I won’t survive it much longer.
“Krav,” I groan as the torture device cuts out, leaving me teetering on the precipice. My arousal intensifies from simply saying his name. Imagining him here is enough to make me pant, overwhelmed with pleasure. His salty, dark chocolate scent surrounds me. “Master.”
“Did you miss me, pet?” He looms over me, huge and fierce with his horns half in shadow. His arms are crossed over his bare chest, but his tail strokes my leg. I shudder at the simple touch.
“Yes. Please. I need you.”
His tail taps the tip of the plug, and my core clenches.
“Fuuuuuck…”
“Oh, I intend to.” The purple bastard is enjoying this. “Just a little longer.”
