He'd seen alphas take beta lovers, but the best those relationships could offer was companionship and a mockery of sexual relief. A beta couldn't take his knot and wouldn't take his heart. So Darre had never given his seed.
His Alennie had been so young when they met. He’d pledged himself to her, said he would wait for her to grow up, for her to choose him. His pledge had been real. He hadn’t even sniffed at other females.
He’d been finishing his duties in the Un, separated from her by a week of day and night travel on the fastest transport, when her first heat had come, and he'd felt it.
He had chosen to endure the discomfort of it, the fiery urgency in his cock and the maddening itch under his skin, thinking it was easier on them both that he couldn't get to her.
When next he returned to the 12 Sectors still trapped in his rut, he discovered his father had thrown another alpha into her nest. She'd accepted the stranger and came out of her heat pregnant.
He’d wanted to kill the other male. Kill his father. Kill everyone.
But with the choice made, and a peacemaker at heart, Alennie had asked him to leave.
His disappointment, his fury left its mark.
There'd been nothing to do after that. Already fixated on her, his rut held strong. No other woman could relieve it—none were close enough to right to even try.
He hoped that when Naya became pregnant, at least his damnable knot would return to normal. But Darre had his doubts. He was messed up.
He was larger than most alphas, had claws, sharper teeth, keener senses, and a highly developed precognitive instinct. Not to mention he had a nasty temper and a big ol' malformed penis.
Whatever beastly genes had been spliced into his ancestors to make them better soldiers had become the dominant controllers of his mind and body. His body bore the brunt of his lost omega.
A little mate like this fine princess might alter his physiology, might give him back some self-control so that he didn't want to shred every living thing all the time.
The monster inside him was content after years of endless raging. Quiet.
Darre purred for Naya and the little female purred back. What an incredible sound. He felt it in his chest, his head, and his soul. He purred until she slept, until his body started to relax and deflate, allowing him to leave the nest.
Padding naked to the door, he rushed down the hall, filled with an unusual urgency. Rushed wasn't his normal style. He did not flutter about like a beta with a list that needed completing.
But now he hated the idea of stepping outside his den and had to hurry and find someone to get food for them so he could get back.
There were always two alphas on duty at the top of the stairwell.
Under renovation to become an administration headquarters when Darre took over the building, not all the fifteen floors of his tower were finished or fully habitable. The top four floors were his alone, but he spent most of his time on the twelfth. It was the most livable, with windows to let the daylight in and several rooms to choose from.
There were escape routes for every level of the building, but guards were stationed in the lobby of every floor. Working in shifts, they were heavily armed with orders only to let those Darre had approved pass by them.
The twelfth-floor guards gave him matching looks of surprise when he appeared naked and smelling of breeder female.
The monster in him stirred, offended that they would try to steal his treasure's scent. No part of him was ready for any of the misbegotten bastards of the tower to see or smell her. He knew he'd take down any male who so much as sniffed in her direction.
"All details will start wearing breathers immediately. Get a setup here before I take off your faces," he snapped. "I need two days' worth of fresh water and half a bloody goat—whatever meat we have that is fresh, seared two minutes each side.
“And have Mac take some men over to Tenbel's place. Clean it out. Bring any of his drones and females here. Put the rest in the hole. Don't let them die; I want to talk to them in a few days. The East Room will need a full cleaning. Get my shit moved over to room three."
"Men at the front are wondering if you had seen that black robe," one of the men, Alreck, answered. He kept his eyes down and was wisely breathing through his mouth. All Darre's alphas knew he had a tricky temper.
"Clear them out. No answers. Leave food and water at the door. Don't knock."
"Mac was gonna give a report, Alpha," Alreck said.
"Yeah. Life goes on. Don't care. None of Mac's reports until tomorrow. He's to handle his shit."
He could send his orders with a data pad, but he only had three functional ones. Not a one of them would be in the kitchen. Alreck would call down the useless elevator shaft to the floors below with Darre's request and a runner would make sure the message got where it needed to go.
Crude as it was, this method of communication was efficient enough that Darre wasn't bothered by hovering servants. It kept his guards at their posts and not running back and forth.
