Reign To Ruin Page 4

  “Stop!” Brecc called to his bodyguards. “Stop. Retreat back.”

  The men slowed and then retreated. Brecc turned slowly toward Malloron, who maintained the magic at his neck. Around them, the sounds of fucking became wilder and ragged, as it normally did any time violence sparked the chamber.

  “You dare speak to me that way?” Malloron kept his voice smooth and calm, but his anger blazed through him. He stepped toward Brecc, whose flesh trembled as the blade dug deeper. “You dare speak that way to royalty?” Another step closer. “You must be suffering an illness, surely, or some kind of an acute dysfunction from not having your cock in something warm, wet, and screaming.” Malloron stared at him, keeping his expression neutral. “If I choose to destroy the entire Western Lands through war, you and the other rulers will just have to fucking deal with it. You only exist because of me and my family.”

  It was his family, the Visants, who had made it possible for the Western Lands to exist in the way it did now, and not just because his ancestors developed the ability to control magic—the Talent—although that played a great part. Eiros was the origin and hub of considerable culture and history, which extended out and developed in various territories. It was the starting point for much of what existed in the Western Lands. The Visant family line were the ones who encouraged diversity to thrive.

  For the duke to dare speak to him in such a way, it was clear he had forgotten that fact.

  “I apologize, Your Majesty,” Brecc pleaded, blood now pouring down his neck and soaking his tunic. “Of course I respect the royal family. I should not have approached while in the middle of a session… when my mind is not truly focused. Please accept my apologies.”

  Malloron inclined his head. “Of course,” he said smoothly. “I will overlook this slight on me, my family, and my entire territory, but I shall be removing your Talent-crafters’ access to magic in my region. It disturbs me that they were preparing to attack. I’m sure you will execute them for their treason once you return home.”

  A flash of anger entered Brecc’s eyes but quickly faded into resignation. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

  Malloron dipped his head in a sharp nod and, using a hand pattern once again, dispersed the magic that created the blade. Duke Brecc held his throat, but bowed deeply, along with the rest of his staff, before heading back to his private room.

  “That will cost you,” Banon commented from behind him.

  Malloron nodded in agreement. It would certainly not be the end of it. But at least he had good reason to block Brecc’s Talent-crafters from accessing magic in Eiros. It was a privilege agreed and negotiated years ago that he could now restrict. However, there was no telling how Brecc would respond once he was back in his own territory.

  He resumed his journey to discover what had happened to the suspected Omega. The beacon signal stopped nearby in one of the corridors that led to the training dungeons. Malloron examined the area. A portal had been opened there, but the magic used was unfamiliar. It had a strange feel to it he didn’t recognize, but that wasn’t a surprise considering magic should not have been accessible at all. After examining the area for a short time, he discovered it was woven with a time constraint, which meant it would open again soon. He positioned himself opposite and stood against the wall. This definitely needed to be investigated. Omegas coming and going as they pleased could not be allowed; it affected the entire security of the castle. One thought that was even more worrying was the idea this Omega would not return. What if another came back in her place? He caught his wayward thought and discarded it quickly, shocked at himself. It didn’t matter if she didn’t return, as long as any Omega did, he would still be able to carry out his plan.

  Within the hour, the portal opened before him, shimmering in a strange turquoise light he wasn't familiar with. He pushed off the wall, watching it closely, trying to feel and identify the magic or spell being used, but the vibration kept changing and rotating too quickly in a way he didn’t recognize. It was almost as though it went against everything he learned about how magic worked.

  Then the girl stepped through.

  She slowed when she saw him. A flash of shock hit her face, but it was soon replaced by a dark, defensive look. She wasn’t going to try and pretend that she hadn’t just done something incredibly illegal in his castle, or try to cower and pretend that she had no idea what was going on. She was accepting responsibility, and Malloron admired that, in fact, he was excited by it.

  As the portal closed behind her, her eyes locked on to his as she squared her shoulders. The corridor darkened again and all was silent.

  Finally she spoke, her smooth voice sending yet another thrill down his spine. “What do you want?”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  AMARA

  “What do you want?” Amara’s heart pounded in her chest as she looked upon King Malloron of Eiros himself, but she refused to show fear.

  It was a bold question to ask him while dressed as a servant girl, but her cover was already blown; there was no use in pretending. And if she had learned anything in the Western Lands, it was that everything could be negotiated.

  Interestingly, the king did not seem surprised by her question, or her attitude considering her status. He stood opposite her, a large mass of Alpha, high and wide. She could barely see his face in the darkness of the corridor, only the shape of his hefty bulk.

  “What is your name?” His deep voice echoed along the corridor.

  “Jayleen.”

  “If you lie, it will be worse for you,” he said casually. “Do not assume I will be unable to find it out.”

  Amara said nothing. If he found out her name, it didn’t matter. His threats didn’t matter either.

  “How long have you been here?”

  Amara stood with her weight evenly between two feet. They were in the middle of the corridor, both ends at equal distance. No matter which way she ran, he would catch her—he was bigger than her, and a skilled Talent-crafter. There was no way she was going to escape without somehow conversing with him or without being escorted out of the corridor. “Two years.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m from DarRojan,” Amara said. “I’ve been working with experimental medicines over there and I bring stock into the castle city and sell it. It has been popular. I can offer you a cut—”

  King Malloron suddenly took three steps forward and loomed over her. “I told you not to lie to me,” he said, his voice deceptively soft.

  Amara tensed in surprise and almost shrank back. She forced herself not to drop her head and stared straight at him. He was too close and so big he seemed to completely surround her, but she needed to stay alert for any possible opportunity to escape. “I’m not lyi—”

  “I know what you are,” King Malloron said, the low rumble of his voice still powerful enough to vibrate through her.

  Amara remained unmoved. Of course he knew she was a Talent-crafter; she had just emerged from a portal. “Are you planning to have me hanged?”

  He smiled, his eyes glistening in the shadows. “No, Omega. There are many better uses I can find for you.”

  The world suddenly twisted around her. She held still, willing herself not to react.

  “I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” She feigned confusion. “Did you just call me Omega? My name is Jayleen.”

  "Your secret is no longer safe. I suggest you consider making arrangements with me."

  “Your Majesty,” she said slowly. “I’m not sure what you mean. There must be some mistake.”

  “There is no point in wasting my time with pretense,” the king said, a slight agitation in his tone. “I know you are an Omega. There is no mistake or confusion.” There was a pause, and though Amara couldn’t see his whole face, she could see his smile. And it was cruel. “I know all about the Omegas that roam this castle. I know all about your Omega village and your elders—the Mothers—and the use of the Talent to hide your dynamic."

  All words left A
mara’s mind. The disbelief that stung her resounded through her entire body, making her numb. There was no way he could have guessed all of that. How the fuck did he know?

  The Alpha’s head tilted. “What are you doing in my castle?”

  Amara struggled to pull herself together. Of all the training she’d undertaken to infiltrate the Western Lands as a spy, of all the scenarios she’d prepared for and all the fail-safes she’d put in place, never once did she imagine she would be standing in front of the King of Eiros himself while he accused her of being an Omega.

  This was the worst possible scenario—King Malloron discovering the existence of Omegas in his castle. He was a disgusting man, the worst Alpha she had ever known. His reputation and practices in the Lands since he began ruling Eiros set him far above all the other depraved and sadistic bastards that ruled the different territories of the Western Lands.

  “I will ask you once more.” King Malloron, inched closer to her, but she stood her ground. “What are you doing here? What are your interests in Eiros Castle, Omega.”

  Amara didn’t trust herself to speak. She clenched her hands into fists, digging her nails into her palms to try to calm her trembling. An urge to run gripped her, to scramble away from him no matter the risk, and not stop running until she was out of Eiros, but she took a deep breath and wrangled it into submission. There was no way he was going to ever let her escape. It wasn’t even possible to use the Talent in the whole of Eiros. She needed to kill herself as soon as possible. Her team would figure it out when she didn’t return and hopefully they would be more careful.

  “Fine.” The king spun on his heel, his cloak swirling around his large form, and he marched down the corridor. Amara suddenly floated up off the ground and drifted along the corridor behind him. She yelped in surprise, but her mouth wouldn’t open. In fact, she couldn’t move anything, she was completely immobilized. Her panic grew and she tried to keep her breathing calm. She couldn’t even feel the magic that carried her; that was how powerful this man was. His use of the Talent was well established as superior in all the known Lands—he could have had her encased with magic the entire time he was speaking to her. Fuck.

  The king threaded through the labyrinth of the underground corridors until he reached back to the upper ground part of the castle. He navigated to a much nicer region that Amara did not frequently visit. She couldn’t even turn her head to look around, but she could see directly in front of her and knew he was leading her through sections that consisted of royal rooms and guest accommodation, which was a relief. At least they weren’t headed to his pleasure chambers.

  They traveled in the semidarkness, down dim corridors and up dark stairwells, until Amara lost all sense of where she was in the castle. It was unfortunate that it was night and there was no one else around. If others had seen her drifting along after the king, word would have gotten back to the Omegas so at least they would know what happened to her.

  As she watched the king’s broad back, her mind whirled, trying to find some kind of logical reason as to how he discovered her. She had been careful. She hadn’t done anything risky apart from using that portal, and that had been overseen and approved by Zanya and Lisara. Zanya had even advised her to take more precautions—which she’d done—since the king seemed to be more visible in the castle lately, but somehow he was waiting for her return. The trip had gone exactly as expected; she used a ruby gem to store a copy of the layout of the castle, so they finally had full information about accessing the dungeon. Luckily, Zanya had insisted that the portal be set up to transport the gem to the Omega’s safe in a different part of the castle when Amara came back through. So at least the Omegas would still have that knowledge even though she had been captured. The problem was, they wouldn’t know about King Malloron.

  The king suddenly stopped outside a set of double doors. Placing a palm on them, he stilled for a moment. Amara felt the whisperings of magic moving within them—a sophisticated use of magic.

  Once the doors opened, Amara drifted into a spacious, extravagant room. It was clearly reserved for special guests, ones the king held in high regard, because she had been in normal guest rooms and none of them contain such beautiful furniture. Enormous candle lamps sat in each corner of the room providing light, colorful paintings and tapestries decorated the walls, and strangely shaped sculptures dotted the space. She didn’t expect the king to take her to a room like this.

  As she hovered in the center of the room, next to a solid wooden table, she heard the doors shut and lock behind her, and her heart began to pound.

  The swish of his cloak came close behind her and she was rotated in the air until she faced him.

  Amara had only ever seen the king from a distance. And even then she tried not to let her eyes wander to him whenever he was nearby. None of the other real servants looked at him directly, and she had always copied their behavior and posture as much as possible to try to blend in. But now that she had the chance to scrutinize him up-close, it was like finally putting a face to the horrible mental depiction she had of the king for so long.

  Unfortunately, he was extremely good-looking. It was said that most of the Visant family were, but she’d never seen him close enough to realize just how good-looking he was.

  His eyes were a deep brown, as was his hair, and both complemented his tan brown skin, but the defining thing about him was his size. The man was enormous, even in the spacious room they were in. Perhaps because he was always well-dressed and surrounded by men of a similar size, he had never seemed quite so big from a distance. His chiseled features and refined appearance suited the room they were in, yet didn’t seem to match his threatening appearance in the corridor, but she knew better than to take anything at face value with him. It was said the king’s expressions were practiced, like he wore a mask that never revealed his true thoughts and therefore he was able to fool many.

  While she examined him, the Alpha stared at her, his eyes taking in everything about her. He then stepped back and began his assessment over her body, rotating her with the magic that held her to look over all areas of her, front and back. Anger trickled into Amara as he surveyed her. It was obvious he was sizing her up for his slave service, which infuriated her. If he thought she was going to allow herself to be the first Omega in over a century to be prostituted out to his dukes, lords, and noblemen, he had no idea who he was dealing with. There was plenty she had already seen in this room that could be used to enact the suicide protocol, and as soon as she had the chance she would be following procedure. He was welcome to give her corpse to those depraved bastards—they would probably still use it anyway.

  When he turned her back to face him, he observed for a long moment, an amusement growing among the curiosity in his eyes.

  “Your anger is intriguing,” he murmured, lifting a hand to her face. A rough finger trailed from the corner of her eye down her cheek. “I have to wonder what you could possibly be angry about since you are the one conducting illegal activities in my castle.”

  Amara held her eyes on him, even more annoyed she could not escape his touch. It sent a shiver down her, sparking a fear of strange men touching her while she was incapable of escaping.

  “Admit it,” he said, tilting his head to watch her. “Admit your true purpose here. There is no point in continuing with this denial when I have you so tightly in my grasp.” His hand lowered down her neck to her chest. “I will not allow you any freedoms or any pleasures unless you are completely honest with me.”

  “As soon as you’ve finished with me you will enter me into your service anyway, regardless of whether I am an Omega or not,” Amara said harshly, before she could even think. Shocked at her own outburst, she immediately bit her tongue. He had released his hold of the magic around her head without her realizing it and then taunted her so she would react. She had to be more careful.

  “I assure you that is not true,” the king replied, brushing her breast as he removed his hand. His face turned emotionle
ss. “But if you cannot be honest and open with me, I cannot make any promises about your Omega friends.”

  Her stomach dropped. She eyed him, wondering exactly how much he knew. There was no point in her denial if he already had evidence of the other Omegas. “Omega friends? I have no friends here, Omega or otherwise.”

  “I have been watching you for a while, little chameleon,” the king said. “I have seen your Eridemont friend and your blonde, green-eyed friend, and the boy you spend time with. I am impressed with your ability to blend in with my servants.” He paused, studying her closely. “I have an idea how many of you there are, and from my understanding, there are many more of you out in the Western Lands. Imagine how much the other rulers would rejoice once they discover that Omegas are here, already populating their territories? It may even be the one thing that unites them all—a common cause for them all to benefit from. Finding the Omegas.”

  Amara’s fear spiked. “Even if that were true, they would be unsuccessful.”

  “I found you, didn’t I?” He chuckled. “How do you suppose I did that? The other rulers are not foolish. They have Talent-crafters to assist them, and the rumors of your existence will not stay contained.”

  Rumors? What was he talking about? Amara kept her face as expressionless as possible as she tried to piece together what he was saying.

  “Once the other rulers hear that Omegas populate the Lands using the Talent, they will go through every effort to find you themselves. If they cannot, they will come to me, knowing that my ability and skill is their best chance.”

  “And you will sell that to them like you sell everything else, won’t you?” Amara sneered. She swallowed her next words of blatant insult, forcing herself to stop speaking. It was well known that King Malloron held an expectation that others conduct themselves respectfully and with proper manners when in his presence. There was no use in aggravating him until she was sure she could either escape or enact the suicide protocol this situation required. But now, she wasn’t sure if either of those options were viable, not with her team exposed.