Reign to Ravage Page 8

  "What did you want to make a condition, Your Majesty,” she managed to get out.

  "As soon as I fix everything,” the king said, lowering his hand to her breast and playing with a nipple, “your eyes, your ears, the tenebris… you come back here to my bedroom… where you belong.”

  Amara tried to ignore the cloudy fog filling her mind, but she couldn't see anything wrong with his proposal. A large part of her agreed that she belonged with him—in his bed, in his arms—what was the use of denying it? She couldn't see any reason to.

  She nodded her agreement, her scalp tight in his grip.

  With a growl of satisfaction, the Alpha climbed back into the bed and she soon forgot all concerns in the orgasmic rush that he brought with him.

  CHAPTER NINE

  MALLORON

  Malloron carried Amara along the corridor of the castle toward the Caradoc rooms.

  His mood lowered with every step he took. Why did he agree to this? It was foolish. Any moment he was separated from her was a torture that became more harrowing the longer he was away. It was clear she felt the same way and yet she had insisted on this total idiocy. He shouldn't have allowed it. And yet… he looked down at her. Seeing her with her sister had changed things. Not only did he envy the comfortable, familiar intimacy they had, it also made him greedy for things he thought he would be fine without—like her acceptance of him as her mate. And her real laugh. And his child in her belly. He wanted it all from her. When Cailyn returned through the portal with Drocco, his arms quickly surrounding her as though it pained him to have her away from him, he had a glimpse of the life he had always dismissed and despised—a life he had mocked Drocco for seeking—and for the first time he wondered if he truly was missing something. It sent him into a strange sense of confusion that he hadn't ever experienced before. But if he was missing something spectacular, why couldn't he have it all? He was king. If he wanted it, he could have it. And the key to having it was in his arms. He glanced down at her. He could tell she was watching him and it settled his riled emotions a little—he preferred her attention on him. Perhaps being on her own would help her to see what he already instinctively knew—they belonged to each other. At least he knew after he fixed everything he would have her, and her gorgeous eyes, back in his bed permanently. But would that be enough? Drocco seemed to think he needed to actually get Amara to trust him, but how could he do that? He had already decided he would do whatever he could to honor the agreement they had just made, but would that be enough for her?

  He came to a stop outside of her rooms and undid the magical lock before striding in and heading straight to her bedroom.

  "Your meals will appear on the table as before,” he said as he placed her down on the bed.

  She nodded and he hesitated with his arms around her, his body half on the bed with her.

  "Are you sure you will be able to navigate the room successfully?” She had explained a little how she saw her surroundings but it wasn't perfect. She could still struggle.

  She nodded again. "I will be fine.”

  He didn't move and after a while, she shifted in his arms. "You can go, Your Majesty.”

  He growled in annoyance but did not release her. Every single part of her body called for him to stay; her hands on his biceps, her scent deepening, her breath quickening. Even without her irises, he could tell when she wanted him. How could she deny it? This was madness.

  "I am staying for a while,” he said gruffly, climbing on top of her.

  Her response was somewhere between a grumble and a sigh, but soon her nipples were hard and thoroughly wet from his mouth, her slick was abundant and drenching his balls as he drove in deep, and she was moaning just the way he loved to hear.

  After an incredible mating, Malloron stretched out on top of her, their sweaty skin sliding together while his knot kept them locked together.

  "Explain to me again how you can see,” he said once their breathing calmed.

  Amara took a breath and then paused as she thought. "I see the magic that exists in everything.”

  "But what does that mean?”

  "You are aware that the magic permeates everything that exists? Well, that is what I can see.”

  Malloron thought for a moment. "But magic is not the same in each variation of its existence. How does it give you the ability to see everything?”

  "It’s hard to explain. At first it was like vibrations,” Amara began. "And then, once I realized it was magic I could sense the different tones within it. The different tones make up the different elements of everything that is visible.”

  Malloron nodded slowly. It must be the tenebris giving her the ability to see. It was certainly giving her the ability to hear and talk to him.

  "There were moments when the magic felt as though it was alive,” Amara murmured. "It was… very unusual.”

  That made sense. The tenebris was pure magical energy that almost seemed as though it was alive itself. Most of the strongest energies felt that way, and it had blended with her so completely that it was logical she would experience it that way.

  "At least, it felt like that before,” she added.

  "What do you mean?”

  "Since I’ve been back here,” she said hesitantly, "I haven't been able to see everything. The magic doesn't show itself everywhere. It’s like there are blank areas where it doesn't exist, even though I know it does.” She hesitated. "For example, I couldn't see the portal that Cailyn went back through at first. Was it there the whole time?”

  "Yes. Her Alpha was standing in front of it the whole time she was in the room. You couldn't see him?”

  "No. I had to force magic into the area so I could see what was there.”

  "It is not flowing through you the way it should be,” Malloron said. "It needs to heal. I need to find a way to heal it quickly.”

  "How does it work, this… thing. What is it and how does it work?”

  Malloron shifted onto his elbow and tucked his hand under her to grab her bottom. He leaned to one side, pressing her against him so she stayed firmly secure on his knot, and looked down at her. "I told you what it was before I put it in you.”

  Her eyelids remained low as she lifted her head, her body tensing. "If it allows you to use the Talent without going crazy, why didn't you keep it inside you? Why do you need to put it in me?”

  Malloron sunk his fingers into her thick hair and began to stroke his fingers over her scalp. Instantly the tension in her body fled. "The tenebris is extremely powerful. It causes a lot of stress on natural, physical matter. It eventually causes the body to deteriorate to such a degree it cannot move. Eventually, it would have left me immobile.” He continued to stroke her hair and watched her closely. "The tenebris works differently inside Omegas. You can carry it without pain and without damage.”

  "Without damage?” Amara said sharply.

  "Without the same kind of damage that I would incur,” Malloron corrected. "From the research that I read, it said that Omegas were well-suited to hold the tenebris—something to do with the way you connect with magic.”

  "You said you did this before,” Amara said, the accusation in her tone clear. "How could you not know this would happen?”

  "When I did it before, it was not with an Omega.”

  Amara jerked away from him, even though his hand on her ass kept her firmly attached to his knot. "You mean you experimented on me?”

  "No,” Malloron said. "It had been tried before with an Omega. I was following the instructions of a well-honed spell. My grandfather had been successful.”

  "And the Omega survived?”

  "Yes,” Malloron said.

  Amara tilted her head, her milky white eyeballs taking him in. "And what happened?”

  "It is not important.”

  "It is important to me,” she said sharply. "You told me this had been done before, but you failed to say you had not done it before. What happened to the woman you did it to?”

  Malloron scowled.
"It is not important.”

  "You can't decide what is important and what isn't. I want to know!”

  "It will not reassure you,” he warned.

  “You told me you would tell me everything.”

  "And I also said I will not have you upset. That is more important than your questions.”

  "Oh yes,” she said, her eyes narrowing. "We wouldn't want to upset the tenebris, would we?”

  Malloron’s fingers dug into her scalp as he gripped her head and pushed her face into his neck. She tried to fight him, but he began to purr and she soon calmed.

  He closed his eyes and felt for the tenebris within her. It was still stiff and unyielding and did not seem to have made much progress in healing. He kept purring and monitored it for an hour while Amara dozed, but if any progress was made, he couldn't detect it.

  He carefully untangled himself from her, fixed her bedding all around her, and left the room quietly.

  Back in the temple, Emric had returned the room to at least a half decent state, much to Malloron’s surprise. The cabinets and shelves were righted and the glass had been swept away. Even the potions were cleaned from the floors, although stains remained from some of the more powerful and dangerous substances. Enormous stacks of books covered most of the floor and ingredients and potions were kept together. So even though things weren't completely tidy, it was easy to find where everything should be.

  Just as he was about to start looking through the books, a knock sounded on the door.

  "Emric," he greeted. "I was just about to call you."

  "Your Majesty," Emric bowed. "I hope you are satisfied with the temple?"

  "I’m pleased you have organized it so well, yes," Malloron responded. "I need you to tell me where a specific book is. It’s called the Visant Family Spell Book of Magical Energies Number Eighty-Four. I need it urgently."

  Emric inclined his head. "I will look for you straightaway. I’m here to tell you that the rulers of the Western Lands have arrived unannounced, Your Majesty."

  Malloron clenched his jaw. "What?"

  "They are all at the entrance to the castle," Emric said. "They are demanding to see you. They have drawn quite a crowd."

  Malloron exhaled. "I do not have time to deal with them," he growled.

  "I know, Your Majesty," Emric said tentatively. "However, this is their third attempt to speak to you. I have kept them from disturbing you so far; however, I fear that our Southern Lands guest will soon become aware if the crowd grows any larger."

  Malloron turned away and cursed, clenching his fists at the frustration of this dogged behavior by Brecc and his accomplices. He needed to teach the rulers a lesson once and for all. He turned back to Emric. "Have them shown into the throne room. I will see them there. Then I need you to look for this book urgently, Emric."

  Emric nodded and immediately headed down the corridor. On impulse, Malloron returned to Amara’s room. He let himself in and headed to the bed to check on her.

  She was thrashing little in her sleep, pushing away the pillows and bedding he had surrounded her with and mumbling under her breath.

  He knelt by the bed and began to stroke her head.

  Immediately she calmed and sighed at his touch. "I couldn't smell you," she breathed, speaking with her mouth while her eyes were still closed.

  A beam of satisfaction burned through him so strongly he immediately undressed and climbed into the bed with her. She wanted him. Well… she wanted his scent, but it was still him. "I was only gone for a short time, chameleon,” he murmured through his mind, hooking his arm around her and pulling her against him.

  "This bedding,” she said sleepily, switching to speak through her mind effortlessly. "I couldn't smell you.”

  Malloron smiled and stroked her until she fell back to sleep. Then he pulled back on his clothes, quietly left the room and sprinted back to his bedroom. Collecting every pillow and blanket, he stripped his bed of every scrap of fabric and carried it back to her. He replaced her bedding with his, carefully shifting her as she slept. It reeked of their combined fluids and scent, but once settled, she seemed to sink into a deeper sleep. He watched her, stroking his fingers over her skin, his mood lightened with relief and pleasure at seeing her contented by something that he could so easily give her. Of course, if she had just stayed where she was, she would have had what she wanted. But Amara had to be difficult. Lowering, he kissed gently along her neck, loving the way it made her shiver.

  Everything she made him feel stripped away all of the reserved control he used to present himself as a king and royal. He didn’t bother to even try anymore, not with her, but if he could ensure she was truly always his, it would settle the wild animal that she seemed to invoke. Drocco had told him that the only way to ensure Amara stayed with him was to soul-bond with her, but that the Omega had to be the one to initiate it with the claiming bite. If the Alpha bit first, he would go crazy—forced to deal with the Omega’s emotions weighing on him too heavily—but Malloron knew there was no way Amara would tie herself to him willingly. He had considered if there were any potions or spells that could defend against the effect. Drocco insisted that it was such an internal experience, it wasn't possible to use magic, but Drocco had never been fond of magic and never even used it, how would he know? Malloron ran his nose down Amara’s neck and located a spot where her scent was the strongest. It had to be there. He kissed it, wondering if he should bite her anyway.

  A knock at the door disrupted his contemplation.

  He forced himself to stand and dress fully, watching Amara the whole time. She wasn't going anywhere—he could think about it later. Right now he had to deal with the matter of the rulers.

  His mood hardened at the idea of facing them. They tried to fuck with him and failed, and now they were going to cry about it to him? Typical. He had spent too long pandering to the rulers, making them feel like their voices were important when they weren't. The only reason he had done it was because he needed time to take over the entire Western Lands by force. Once he had the tenebris truly at his disposal, and an enormous, fearless, skilled army, it wouldn't matter how he treated them, they would obey or die. But he had to wait until he made progress with the tenebris and in the meantime he had to be cordial. After all, these rulers were used to decades of cordial behavior from the previous kings—they had set the standard of what the rulers could expect from the royal family and Malloron had to maintain it to avoid them moving against him too strongly. Unfortunately, he still didn't have the tenebris the way he wanted it—in fact he was in a worse position than before because it was damaged. Still, the rulers had attacked him. That action alone broke the treaty between the territories and they had to answer to that.

  He brushed his lips over Amara’s forehead and stroked her cheek, staring at her for a long moment before sweeping out of the room. The rulers’ settlement offer had better be worth the time they were taking him away from his Omega.

  Emric had summoned a number of his warrior Talent-crafters to meet him on his way to the throne room. They flanked him and fell in line with his stride. One of them handed him his indigo throne room cloak, while another gave him his golden staff. Emric was clearly paying attention—all of these things would give the right impression. He had to remember to speak to Emric about what he had learned from Drocco about Gammas.

  The throne room was one of the most impressive rooms in the castle. It was included in the tour for almost all important visitors. Large and imposing, the room boasted of the Visant wealth and successes over the centuries. Portraits, gem-encrusted statutes, and thick, luxury drapes decorated the large room, which was really a small hall. At one end, his wide and impressive golden throne sat, raised on its own platform. The throne had been traditionally designed and every time Malloron sat on it, he was reminded of the many Alphas who had reigned before him.

  The rulers all stood silently, watching him as he took his seat. All of the fourteen rulers were in attendance, which was a bad sign in it
self. The smaller territories usually didn’t involve themselves in squabbles among the larger territories unless they had to. Clearly Brecc had roused them enough to feel the need to get involved. Another bad sign was that they all wore the traditional robes of their territory, suggesting their appearance here was Western Lands business as a whole rather than a dispute between a few countries. They were attempting to make this a formal event. He was once again grateful that Emric saw to it he wore his royal robe and had his staff.

  King Malloron climbed the three steps to the throne and sat down, eyeing the rulers before him with a steely gaze as his warriors surrounded the throne and filtered down both sides of the room.

  He had chosen to see them in the throne room because there was no furniture of any kind, and Emric hadn't provided them with seats. Good. Let them feel like the paupers they were. This throne room was the space where Eiros citizens came to plead for relief or royal favor, and where they offered him gifts—not a space for anyone who could be considered his equal, and these rulers certainly were not. None of them had entered with any of their servants or Talent-crafters, which was likely at Emric’s insistence.

  “What do you want?” Malloron barked, his voice echoing off of the walls. He didn't need to fake his irritation.

  “We want answers!” Duke Brecc’s voice rang out just as loud as Malloron’s and for a moment Malloron was stunned at the man’s brazen audacity. "You have monopolized your influence on this Land, forcing the rest of us to concede to you on many occasions, to the result that some of our territories have weakened considerably." Brecc’s face was twisted with anger. "But you have gone too far this time. Most of my family is dead because of this magical being—this woman—you have been hiding from us. We demand transparency. Now."

  Malloron held himself still, forcing the anger battering through him to calm. They came here to question his rule and demand things of him instead of begging for his forgiveness? They must be crazed. He glared at each of them, his hard eyes taking in their expressions.