Reign To Ruin

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Reign To Ruin

  Western Lands Map

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Reign to Ravage

  Author Note

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2018 by Zoey Ellis

  All rights reserved. Sale of any edition of this book is wholly unauthorized. Except for use in review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part, by any means, is forbidden without written permission from the author/publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  First Edition: July 2018

  For Margarita

  whose kindness, guidance, and generosity protected my muse

  Reign To Ruin

  He will ruin her - until she knows nothing but him

  The Alpha King

  Corruption and sadism plague every corner of his kingdom. He remains in the center of it all; a handsome, charming, master manipulator.

  Furious at the knowledge that rare Omegas hide in his castle, King Malloron uses magic and deception to draw one out.

  Striking a deal with her that he knows he will not honor, they begin an exchange of wits that intrigues him much more than it should.

  He forces her into the depravities of his dark world, determined to destroy her and use her for his own ends, only to find that he may not be the only one with the power to ruin.

  The Omega Diplomat

  Trained to deal with the devious and treacherous people of the kingdom, Amara never anticipated tackling the biggest deceiver of them all.

  Desperate for his secrets, she has to be willing to be corrupted, dominated, and shattered to get to the truth, but is soon horrified to learn that King Malloron’s reign goes deeper than just his kingdom; he rules her instincts too.

  Reign to Ruin is the first book in this couple’s story, but the fourth installment of the Myth of Omega series. This is a dark, erotic, Omegaverse romance. Cliff-hanger included. For fans of charmingly cruel Alpha anti-heroes, sassy Omega heroines, epic fantasy worlds and captive romances. Discover a magical kind of dark...

  Reign to Ruin is an explicit reading experience from sexual scenes to violence and language. Includes disturbing situations and romance of a dark nature. For readers aged 18 and over.

  See a full color map for the Western Lands

  CHAPTER ONE

  MALLORON

  The wet slapping of flesh, vulgar mutterings, and the sour stench of unwashed, sweaty bodies went almost unnoticed by King Malloron. It was the same assault on his senses every time, regardless the variation of people that filled the large, dimly lit space.

  The king strode through his most popular pleasure chamber, barely glancing at the bodies restrained and spread on various shaped benches, being used by the ones who paid for the privilege. He had seen it all before. It was the tenebris that had his attention right now; the powerful magical force inhabited every inch of him, writhing constantly, agitating his irritation as it swirled along his limbs, bursting in little explosions in the corners of his body. His shoulders, elbows, and knees ached from the pressure more than usual. He’d been without his potions for far too long.

  He maneuvered through the large benches and apparatus’ that filled the chamber to the shaved-headed Alpha tasked with overseeing the pleasure chamber and its bookings. Standing in a corner, the Alpha was transfixed, watching a fat, hairy lord desperately clawing the back of a young male as he jerked wildly, emptying his balls into his ass.

  “Any news, Banon?” Malloron asked, as he approached.

  “No, Your Majesty.” Banon dragged his eyes away as the young man groaned. “All is well here.”

  Malloron exhaled, glad for the news, but it was a relief he couldn't enjoy. His territory was in a constant delicate balance of power and his recent absence hadn’t helped. It would certainly catch up with him sooner or later.

  “Your pet hasn’t been down here much though, so it might be worth checking with him about the others,” the Alpha added, tersely.

  “What do you mean he hasn’t been down here?” Malloron frowned.

  “Since you’ve been in the Eastern Lands he hasn’t bothered—”

  Malloron froze, snapping to attention. Someone just used magic nearby.

  He scanned the chamber slowly. Nothing looked out of place, and yet he felt the magical fluctuations.

  Both anger and intrigue built in him. No one should even be able to access magic in his castle, let alone use it. What the fuck was going on? First he was told the enraging news that Omegas hid under his nose using magic, and now someone was illegally using magic within the depths of his dungeons, somehow getting around the spell that had been cast to prevent such activity. His curiosity heightened as a suspicion came to him… what if the person using magic was an Omega?

  “Your Majesty?”

  Malloron brought his attention back to Banon. “What is it?”

  “I was just saying that since you have been in the Eastern Lands, he has hardly been down here more than once.”

  “Who?”

  “Your pet.”

  “He is not my pet,” Malloron said irritably. He didn’t have the patience for the politics between his staff right now. Someone was evading his great great grandfather’s prevention spell, and that was no small feat. As he focused harder on the fluctuations, he realized they were coming from outside the chamber.

  “—administering the chambers if he doesn’t know—”

  “I will speak to him,” Malloron said briskly. He headed to the exit before the Alpha could get another word in.

  He navigated through the darkened underground corridors of Eiros Castle, following the trail of the fluctuations. The increased discomfort of the tenebris made it difficult for him to differentiate the fluctuations. By now, the tenebris felt as though it was ripping through every muscle in his body. He needed to get to his potions soon; he’d never been without them for so long before and every moment that passed could cause his entire body to seize. But there was a criminal in his midst, and he had sworn he would never cow to the tenebris, so he pressed on, cursing under his breath that he’d been forced into this situation by the Emperor of the Eastern Lands.

  Malloron had run out of his potions while assisting Emperor Drocco with his ridiculous pursuit of his Omega—the man was utterly obsessed. It was a terrible position to be in—she would forever be his weakness. But at least he had her. Of all the people he would have wagered on to discover a rare Omega, he never would have guessed Drocco.

  Omegas had mysteriously disappeared from the known Lands over a century ago, and young female children were still disappearing regularly, regardless of attempts to protect them. Malloron never understood why some Alphas were so concerned. Omegas made Alphas weak and foolish, and nothing he’d witnessed yet disproved this fact. The lengths Emperor Drocco, a strong and fearless warrior in his own right, had gone through to secure his Omega was fucking ludicrous. In fact, the city around Malloron’s castle was still suffering the effects of his actions. The only thing that made it worthwhile was the vital piece of information he’d learned while there.

  Appare
ntly, Omegas walked freely in his castle, and not only that, but they were capable of hiding their dynamic through use of the Talent—the ability to manipulate magic. Malloron had been searching for an Omega for his needs for years and yet, if he were to believe Emperor Drocco, they had been in his castle the whole time. The idea almost sent him into a blinding rage when he was first told. He prided himself on being the most accomplished Talent-crafter in the known Lands—his family were the ones that created the Talent for fuck’s sake. No one should be able to hide from him with it. No one.

  The fluctuations led him to the entrance of one of his training dungeons. These were the most sensitive areas of his entire operation. The restrained—his pleasure slaves—not only had to be trained to be able to deal with surviving their time with clients, but also to remain loyal to the royal family. There were many who would love to be able to poach his slaves, and many had tried, but the specific training they received kept every one of them in place. The training dungeons tended to be more unpredictable than the pleasure chambers. Sometimes it was completely wild, slaves hysterical and fighting or orgasming while being beaten or tortured, or they were quiet and subdued.

  Malloron’s curiosity soared at the idea of magic being used in a training dungeon. Of all places.

  He entered, hoping the dungeon wouldn’t be too wild to locate the culprit. The large open main area was filled with various equipment, makeshift beds, and medical supplies. Archways and doors led off from the main space to more specific training rooms used when needed. Luckily, it was a subdued day. Most of the slaves were sitting or lying on their makeshift beds, while their trainers stalked among them.

  “Good to see you here today, Your Majesty,” greeted Dilys, the head trainer. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

  “Is there anyone new here?” Malloron asked, scanning the main room.

  “Last shipment of slaves was a week ago, Your Majesty. No one is newer than that.”

  He noticed the magic use wasn’t happening in the main area. “And no one has been any trouble.”

  “Oh they are always trouble.” She grinned cruelly with a flourishing bow. “But no more than usual.”

  Malloron did not respond. Dilys took great pleasure in training the slaves. She ensured she followed the required method, but always thrived more when slaves were disobedient. Malloron didn’t care as long as she got the job done.

  As Malloron strolled further into the space, an explosion of pain ripped through his whole body. He froze, trying not to make it obvious, and took a long moment before he began walking again, battling against the onslaught of agony. Without his potions, all he could do was try to calm the tenebris by pulling magic into himself, but he didn’t like having to use magic that way, particularly in public. Whenever magic was manipulated, it became visible and he didn’t need anyone knowing he could feed magic directly into his body. The tenebris had remained a secret in his family for hundreds of years and he was not going to be the one that revealed that to anyone.

  Malloron took a deep breath as the raw pain rolled through him. Closing his eyes and focusing his mind, he sought out the magical fluctuations.

  He followed the trail down one of the corridors and into one of the smaller healing rooms. Most of the training slaves lay on beds, bloody and swollen, while servants trained in basic healing tended to them.

  Malloron moved slowly across the room and pinpointed the fluctuations coming from one of the beds. He strode to a corner where he could see the bed more clearly.

  A young man lay on it groaning, while a servant hunched over him dabbed his wounds and checked his breathing. They didn’t seem to be doing anything that could cause fluctuations, and yet he continued to feel them coming from that direction. Malloron watched them closely trying to figure out how magic was being used.

  Once the man was cleaned up the servant moved on to another bed, and the fluctuations moved with her. Malloron suddenly understood. The fluctuation of magic was coming from within the servant.

  An excitement built in his chest. The servant had to be an Omega. There was no other way that magic could be fluctuating inside her unless she was a Talent-crafter who had woven some kind of unusual spell or charm around herself. And if she was, what was she doing down in his dungeons working as a servant? Talent-crafters could secure plenty of jobs in the Western Lands. Her position as a servant in the dungeons did not make sense.

  He watched her as she moved from bed to bed. Her jet black hair was tied back into a round ball and her hands were pale, but other than that he could not tell much about her. She wore the black tunic of a dungeon servant, only permitted to those who worked in the dungeons. She kept her head down as she methodically treated the slaves, not even seeming to notice his presence in the corner of the room. That was not unusual, most servants were trained to focus on completing their duties in silence and to be practically non-existent in the presence of royalty or important guests, especially in the dungeons. None of the other healing servants in the room paid him any attention either.

  Suddenly she stood upright and looked slowly around the room at the beds. Malloron was shocked to discover that she was much younger than he first thought. And not only that, but she was actually very good-looking, even in her servant’s wear. It wasn’t unusual for a servant to be pretty, but she seemed to be in a league of her own. And that raised more questions; someone who looked like her could get a much better job working in Eiros. Why was she here in the bloody and reeking training dungeons? From where he stood, he was unable to see the color of her eyes, but her snowy complexion and dark hair was striking enough.

  She walked slowly around the room, gazing at the slaves on their beds and the fluctuations became wilder. As she turned and looked over the room as a whole, her eyes drifted to his. A thrill of excitement, desire, and intrigue shot through him. Her long-lashed eyes were deep blue, dark like the deepest depths of the White Ocean. Utterly stunning when contrasted with her black hair and fair complexion. She wasn’t good-looking, she was beautiful.

  In the weightless moment their gazes held onto each other, she didn’t smile or bow her head or even break eye contact with him, as servants were supposed to do. Her eyes seemed to harden on his and a sense of resistance radiated from her. Then she turned away, and the moment was gone.

  Malloron inhaled as an intense curiosity and longing enveloped him. This woman had to be the most interesting thing he had come across for a long time, and all of his senses told him she would be a compelling challenge.

  Drawing on a sliver of magic from around him, Malloron wove together a small orb. He shaved off a tiny flake and embedded it into the palm of his right hand, then drifted the rest toward the servant. Carefully, he attached it to her hair as she bent over a bed, holding it in place so it could seep in until it penetrated every strand. Once secure, the center of his right palm pulsed with the signal. He would now be able to tell where she went, giving him time to figure out what the hell she was. Of course, he could just take her and force her into telling him whatever he wanted, but where was the fun in that? Besides, for his purposes, he needed an Omega who was willing, even if reluctantly.

  Although the crippling pain still bounded through him, an excitement began to build. If he had indeed found an Omega, he just made a giant leap closer to his ultimate goal. He continued to watch her covertly, appreciating how her black tunic moved around her small, shapely body.

  If she truly was an Omega, he would find a way to entrap her. And if she wasn’t, he may just have fun with her anyway.

  CHAPTER TWO

  AMARA

  “I’m telling you, he used magic in the dungeon.”

  Helenka crossed her arms and glared at Zanya. “That’s not funny. It was strange enough him being there in the first place—don’t jest about it.”

  Lisara chuckled from the opposite bed. “When have you known Zanya to jest around when it comes to work?”

  Helenka uncrossed her arms slowly, her frown deepening
as she stared at Zanya. “You’re being serious? The king used magic?”

  “Don’t jump to any conclusions,” Amara said firmly, folding the last black tunic and placing it in a neat pile on her bed. After a long shift in the dungeons, her mood was low. Two of the slaves she was trying to heal in the training dungeon did not survive. The young man suffered internal bleeding, while the woman had been refusing to eat and drink until she suffered a seizure and died in a pool of her own blood and waste. Amara simply wasn’t in the mood to listen to the other Omegas arguing over something as pointless and enraging as the king.

  His dominating presence in the dungeons did not help those who were suffering. It wasn’t as though the man could shrink quietly into a corner—he was an Alpha and was said to be the biggest in the Western Lands because of his royal lineage. Amara didn’t give a shit who he was. His total arrogance was clear when he stood over that room of dying, suffering slaves and leered at her.

  “Maybe he did use magic, maybe he didn’t,” she said, shrugging. “But since we can’t access magic here, we won’t know unless something comes of it. If he was using magic in the training dungeons, it could have been for any reason.”

  Lisara and Zanya nodded thoughtfully as they folded their own tunics, but Helenka frowned. “True, but it was unusual that he was in one of the healing rooms. I don’t recall him ever entering one before.”

  “He’s just come back from a trip away,” Lisara pointed out. “So he could have come to the healing room for any number of reasons.”

  “Can you think of one?” Helenka asked pointedly.

  In the moment of silence that followed, the door to the large communal servants’ quarters opened and another nine Omegas entered. They threaded through the rows of beds to the far corner where Amara and the others were, carrying folded tunics of their own.