Too stunned, too full of that something that screamed for release from its cage, Aida could only stare back. Quivering with the remaining tension she watched him swagger from the room, entering her bed chamber with an air of supreme dominance.
Sinking into the water with trembling lips and wishing for numbness, she could not fault him for it. He was her new master, and she was his to use as he saw fit. He accomplished what Otaso never had, and she felt far filthier than the scum remaining tangled in her hair for it.
Chapter 5 Er’it
It took her an age to come out of the crude bathing room. Hair a sodden mess, velvety eyes red rimmed and lower lip trembling, she was somehow more pathetic than the weak creature he’d found in the dungeons. It also took every ounce of his will not to go to her purring like an idiot to soothe away the tight lines around her eyes and mouth.
Either that or fucking her into the wall. Ruining every inch of that innocence with his thundering calls and the thickness of his cock sliding into the wet heat of her. Knotting her until her high screams echoed over the valley and well into the hills.
Not mounting her like a cheap whore in the bath had been far more difficult. Though he hadn’t done so well with that. Er’it still didn’t understand why it had bothered him so. He should have taken her then and there, just as he’d intended. It didn’t matter if she smelled of fresh and clean things to take what he wanted. He was the king of hundreds of thousands and conquered whatever he set his eyes to. Yet the moment the heavy scent of roses had teased his nose, he’d become enraged. Making her wash with his soap, covering her in the bite of cedar and herbs. His scent, and the only one she would wear from now on other than the cold sunshine of her own intoxicating fragrance. He could still smell her on his skin, driving him mad with every breath as he lounged with casual authority in the space so imprinted with her the very stones cried her name.
An Omega. He still had to breathe through the shock of that, the thought tingling through his spine, straight into his cock. Even with the violence of his actions explained, it continued to baffle him. The old tales and stories somehow true, sane men driven to crazed acts over the scent of one. No wonder the Black Mage coveted her so, though it made little sense why he’d offered her to Er’it as he had.
The bitch of a maid waited behind him beside a wardrobe. They’d found her hiding in the ruins of the west wing, the lone remaining servant who had tended his little Omega. His anger at the Beta was only a little less than the rage pointed at himself. A tight cunt, no matter who it belonged to, did not deserve this level of interest from him. This one in particular had her purpose, and while he would use the Omega’s body as he saw fit before all was said and done, he needed to keep a tight rein on these ridiculous outbursts.
It was the sheer novelty of it that entranced him so, nothing more.
Shoving up from the chair, he snapped his fingers at the maid. Directing her to dress his Omega before he threw her onto the bed and began enacting the disturbing thoughts racing through his head. Measured strides carrying him around the room, he ignored the rustle of silks and lace, trying in vain not to imagine all that glorious skin being hidden away. She had her purpose, and he needed to see this through with a clear head for now.
The heavy books and dusty tomes he’d pored over while the delicate beauty recovered said a great many things, all of them contradicting each other. The one thing all those ancient ones could agree upon was that the ripeness of youth, hanging in the most delicate of balances with true womanhood, was the moment of absolute power. When it could be snatched away, taken into another’s hands to control.
They also said the Omega needed to return to her place of power. Something Otaso failed to do, which had somehow caused the destruction of his altar, his own place of power. It was the only explanation for the state the great mage had been in when Er’it stumbled upon him in the ruined wing. One look at the Omega said she was not from Aeslomor. Not with that glorious skin holding the warmth of the sun, the rich russet tones of her curling hair. She lacked the rough, hard features of its people, everything about her soft and rounded. So performing the necessary rite anywhere else was out of the question. If Er’it wanted to find the peace of a worthy victory, he would first have to find where the Omega came from.
Thoughts of the Black Mage, of the Omega, brought the anger back in full force. All of it lying on the narrow shoulders of the bitch haunting his every moment.
She was the one who stole his moment of promised peace. Somehow weakening Otaso to the point he’d drained the dregs of his reserves, she’d left him a dry husk for Er’it to find after two days of rest and several sacrifices. They’d found the bodies stacked like cordwood, each one drained and shriveled, yet even that hadn’t helped. Omegas had no power of their own, even in the children’s stories, so how she accomplished it remained a mystery. Now, no amount of fleecing the castle and conquering its people soothed the rift within his soul at being denied the battle he’d waited so long for. By a slip of a thing, no less. So fragile and weak he could snap her neck without a
