CHAPTER ELEVEN
DROCCO
Drocco stood on the other side of his bedroom door listening to his Omega’s jealous rage. It was the most erotic thing he’d ever heard, and he desperately wanted to storm back in and fuck her senseless.
He knew for certain now that he did not want a submissive Omega. When Cailyn had threatened him, her voice low and possessive, her eyes flashing, her body ready to pounce, he almost came in his pants. She was tiny and yet had outright threatened him if he lay with another. A submissive woman wouldn’t have dared; they might have cried, or become emotionally distressed, but none would have threatened him like a warrior, as Cailyn had, nor charged at him like they could actually do damage. It turned him on more than anything she had done so far—and that was a feat in itself since her every action, and every sound, made him hard.
As she quietened, he forced himself to move away from the door and head to Torin’s office. His plan was working, and now he had to be careful not to spoil it with his own eagerness.
He navigated down the corridor, feeling slightly strange to suddenly be out of the four walls he had been in for so long. His time spent in the room with Cailyn had been more satisfying than anything he had ever experienced. He hadn’t missed anything outside of the bedroom; she gave him everything he needed. He could understand everything his grandfather had said, and even what the head keeper had told him. Cailyn drew out every part of him that made him an Alpha—parts of him he had never accessed before. There were things he instinctively knew and did for her that he had never done before, like purr. He hadn’t cared, tried, or known how to even attempt to do it before, but Cailyn’s distress and subsequent desire for it had made it a natural occurrence.
Their sexual connection had been restored and had flourished. When she gave in to her desires, she teased and enticed him deliciously, yet submitted to him more wonderfully than he could have hoped. She touched him more, melted into his kiss, and urged him on when he was rough. She loved having him in her mouth, and her eagerness made her inexperience inconsequential. She came hardest when he pinned her down securely, against the bed, the floor, the table, the wall—any surface—and took her like a fucking animal. He had never been able to be so wild, so free, with any other. It both settled and strengthened him in a way he couldn’t even begin to comprehend.
She was made for him, which he already knew. She hadn’t smiled for him properly yet, but that would come. Soon she would have to admit her emotional attachment to him and declare him hers. Her sleepy, sexy, trill of a purr proved it. However, even if she still continued to deny it, it didn’t matter. He could tell her Haze was close. He had scented the sweet hint of it in her anger before he left. Hopefully, if he left her seething, she would be primed to go into her Haze not long after he returned. In her Haze, she would tell him everything he wanted to know and he would be able to breed her. The Haze was the perfect solution to everything and was what he had been waiting for.
When he arrived at Torin’s office, a servant redirected him to the main meeting room.
“Drocco,” Torin said surprised, as Drocco entered. “This is a pleasant surprise.” Torin stood by the back wall with a couple of Talent-crafters. He had grown a light dusting of stubble on his face, making him look older and somewhat fiercer.
“How long has it been?” Drocco asked, sitting at the large table in the middle of the room.
“Nearly three months,” Torin said. He sniffed and then smirked. “It seems like things are going well.”
Drocco grinned. “Indeed. Anything I should know?”
Torin sobered. “Malloron.”
Drocco clenched his jaw. “What about him?”
“He has been persistent—sending letters and insisting meetings with you.”
“What happened to his threat to withdraw his offer?”
“I don’t know. Every time we speak he refuses to discuss anything unless you are present.”
Drocco took note of Torin’s position in the room and the Talent-crafters against the back wall. “You’re meeting with him now?”
Torin nodded. “In the next few minutes.”
“You are still allowing portals to come into the Palace?” Drocco asked, harshly.
“Lox crafters are controlling it, Drocco,” Torin insisted. “They are the ones creating the portal now. Malloron has no control.”
Drocco glanced at the Talent-crafters. Torin had always been the cautious and careful one—it was doubtful he would do something that would put them in danger.
Drocco stood up. “I will speak with him.”
Torin hesitated. “I don’t think that is wise.”
“I am the Emperor, and it is me he has requested. I’ll find out what he wants.”
“You have just come from your Omega’s nest, Drocco,” Torin pointed out. “I don’t think it’s wise for you to speak to him immediately after seeing her. He isn’t that important.”
Drocco narrowed his eyes. “How many times do I need to repeat myself with you, Torin?”
Torin sighed and looked him over. “All right. Just remember that he is likely to be frustrated that you have not been available for the last few meetings.”
Drocco nodded. “Understood.”
“We’re ready, Commander,” the nearest Talent-crafter called.
Torin told Drocco where to stand and how to signal to the Talent-crafters when he wanted to end the meeting.
“Ready?” Torin asked.
Drocco nodded.
The Talent-crafters closed their eyes, their hands clasped, and a thin sheet of glistening magic appeared in the air before him and slowly morphed, many brilliant colors jumping within it until the center cleared to reveal Malloron in his rich clothing.
Malloron’s eyes widened in surprise. It seemed he hadn’t expected to see Drocco either.
“Greetings, King Malloron,” Drocco began. “May Eiros thrive and be weal—”
“Is it true you have an Omega?” Malloron demanded, leaning forward.
Drocco nodded. “Yes.”
Malloron stared him for a moment, his dark eyes wild, before leaning back in his chair and composing himself. “Congratulations, Emperor. I take back all insinuations I made that you would not be able to do it.”
Drocco simply dipped his head. “I appreciate it. Is that the only reason for the urgency for us to talk? I assume you realize by now that I will not be agreeing to your terms.”
Malloron lifted his head in a slow nod. “Yes, I realize.” He was silent for a moment. “I believe I can offer something else.”
“Like what?”
“Your Omega’s obedience.”
Drocco tensed, a snarl forming on his face. “Speak again, King Malloron. And I advise you to be careful which words you choose to repeat.”
“It’s no secret that you have had trouble with your Omega, Emperor,” Malloron said, shrugging. “I can help you.”
Drocco could barely contain his anger. Malloron couldn’t know unless someone from inside the Palace had been watching Drocco and sending Malloron updates. There were still spies within the Palace. He glared at Malloron, wishing the man was really in front of him. He would love to drive his axe through the man’s brain and be rid of him.
“It’s no secret, Emperor,” Malloron repeated, a gleam in his dark eyes. “You don’t need to look at me so murderously. The entire Eastern Lands is discussing it. They say you have stormed out of your room numerous times, left her alone for days, and failed to breed her in her Haze. I’m sure they have most of the details wrong, but whatever the reason is that you have not breeded her yet, I can help you.”
“I will not discuss my Omega with you,” Drocco growled. “If you dare bring her up again—”
“You cannot be selfish,” Malloron said, his voice harsh. “Your Omega represents much for all of us. Your warriors might be too afraid to say it, but I’m not. It has been four or five months since you’ve had her. You have neither breeded her nor discovered where the other Omegas are. Those two things are your only responsibilities, and you are failing them.”
Drocco roared, a vicious rage charging through him as he stepped closer to the portal. Torin tried to call his attention, but he barely saw the movement in the corner of his eye. “You have no right to comment on my Omega or my responsibilities, you fuck! You’re not even within my Empire. I owe you nothing. The only Alphas that can demand anything from me are my warriors and you are not among them! You are never to request another meet—”
“I apologize,” Malloron said, holding up his palms. “I apologize, Emperor. Please forgive me.”
Drocco breathed heavy, his fingers itching for his axe, but his anger quickly quietened when he noticed that Malloron remained calm and collected. A horrible feeling came over him as he stared at the other Alpha.
Malloron had been trying to goad him into saying something revealing. Clearly, he hadn’t gotten what he wanted otherwise he wouldn’t have apologized so quickly, but Drocco’s reaction must have told him something. Drocco glanced at Torin, whose expression was grim.
“I have a proposition for you, Emperor Drocco,” Malloron said, quickly. “Hear me out and then I’ll never contact you or request anything from you again.” He continued speaking, not giving Drocco the chance to respond. “I will give you, or your Talent-crafters, the ability to get your Omega to reveal the location of the other Omegas, in a painless, easy way. She won’t even remember having told you.”
Drocco narrowed his eyes. “This is through use of the Talent?”
“Yes,” Malloron said. “It’s a subtle and delicately crafted spell that will get her to tell you all she knows.”
“Why do you assume she hasn’t already told me?”
Malloron lifted his shoulders, a faint smile on his lips. “She very well could have, but can you trust that she speaks the truth? No one knows what happened to the Omegas and you have only found one. Her discovery could be the result of a myriad of different things. Wouldn’t you want to know?”
“There are ways of discovering things without using the Talent, Malloron,” Drocco replied. “I have no desire to tie myself to you simply to discover if she has told me the truth.”
Malloron tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “You have soul-bonded her,” he said slowly. “That is how you know.”
“You can play your guessing games on your own time,” Drocco said, annoyed.
“All right,” Malloron said, with an air of defeat. “All right. You drive a hard bargain.”
“I do not want—”
“I’ll give you the complete history of your Omega,” Malloron said. “From birth to the moment you met her.”
Drocco’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I will give you a spell that will show you everything about her,” Malloron said, quietly. “Even things she doesn’t know herself. It’s a complex spell—I will need a day to weave it.”
Drocco eyed him. Every part of Cailyn’s history in his hands… “What do you want for it?”
“The same as I asked for before—your process and methods to creating an army and two of your troops.”
Drocco stared at him as he thought. Cailyn’s accurate history laid out for him without him having to force her to tell him anything. It would certainly take the pressure off their relationship while still aiding the Lox. Although it was dependent on the Talent, it was sorely tempting. “Let us have another meeting tomorrow, and I’ll give you an answer then. Have it ready just in case.”
Malloron scowled. “So you will make me create this spell and not tell me if you’re going to accept it?”
“Yes,” Drocco said, simply. “Tomorrow. Same time.” He signaled to the Talent-crafters, and the portal melted into nothing.
“Get out,” Torin ordered the Talent-crafters before turning to Drocco, his face sour.
A harsh annoyance rose in Drocco. If Torin was angry, something was wrong that Drocco hadn’t yet seen.
“Why did you let that happen?” Torin scolded. “You told me never to discuss your Omega with anyone, and then you go and discuss her with Malloron!”
“I tried not to,” Drocco scowled, dropping into a chair. “He antagonized me.”
“Of course he is going to antagonize you! You have an Omega!”
“What did I reveal?”
Torin frowned. “You can’t see it?”
“No,” Drocco snapped. “I didn’t reveal anything by what I said.”
Torin shook his head, disbelievingly. “He will know now by how angry you became, and by the fact you’re even thinking about his proposal, that you care about this Omega.”
“He already thinks I soul-bonded her. He already knew that I want that.”
“No. He was guessing,” Torin pointed out. “Just like he was guessing that you might not be happy with the progress you are making with her. And if he had any suspicions that you were simply taking advantage of her dynamic, they are gone. He knows you want her for yourself, permanently.”
Drocco digested this. “It means nothing. What can he do? His spies won’t be able to get to her.” Cailyn was in his own bedroom, in a tightly secure part of the Palace and guarded in multiple circumferences by warriors he had trained almost from birth. Additionally, the whole floor had been protected by Talent disabling charms. The chances of anyone getting to her was minute.
“I suppose that is true,” Torin said, thoughtfully. “But I’m concerned about what he seemed to pretend to know.”
“What do you mean?”
“He knows no more than anyone in the Palace or even anyone in Ashens, and yet he made some connections that seemed accurate.”
Drocco growled at him. “I told you months ago that I didn’t want any more of his fucking spies in this Palace.”
“And I just told you he doesn’t have any more information than any Lox warrior or citizen of Ashens,” Torin shot back. “You were only visibly angry in front of your staff once, he guessed you haven’t breeded her, and he assumed that you had access to her during her Haze. He isn’t getting it from spies, he is simply smart. And you cannot afford to engage in conversation with him again until you are free of all influences, including your Omega!”
Drocco shot from his chair, advancing toward Torin. “Who the fuck do you think you’re speaking to? What gives you the right to speak to me that way, Torin? To give me orders about my mate?” He pushed his chest into Torin’s, growling at the nerve of the man.
“Our history,” Torin glowered. “You told me when we were seventeen that if you ever found your Omega, to remind you that you were a warrior too.”
Drocco froze. That was when his grandfather had died; shriveled and weak and crying for his Omega—nothing like the man he had looked up to since birth.
“So now I’m telling you,” Torin continued. “You are a leader, you run an Empire. I’m not saying you’re weak, Drocco, but you must remember that your hormones will be turbulent until you soul-bond.”
Drocco’s anger drained away. He moved away from Torin and lowered into his chair.
“The feelings are a natural aspect of being an Alpha, but I don’t think you should concern yourself with Empire business until you soul-bond,” Torin said.
Drocco snapped a look at him. “Understand that I trust and respect you, Torin, but I will not remove myself from my Empire just because I am an Alpha.”
“Even if it will be used against you?” Torin said.
“Yes,” Drocco said. “That is why you are my Commander and not an Alpha. You will keep me grounded like you always do. Let’s move on from this discussion.”
Torin exhaled harshly, moving to sit next to Drocco. “Are you seriously considering Malloron’s offer?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I want to know my Omega.”
“You don’t believe what she tells you?” Torin asked, scratching his stubbled cheek.
Drocco thought carefully before he responded. “I do. But I don’t know if she has been brainwashed or tricked. She comes across as very knowledgeable, but there is something lacking in her knowledge of her own background and family. If the Talent is involved, I wouldn’t be surprised if it has been used on her adversely. If I am to soul-bond her, I think I should know everything about her—even the things she doesn’t know about herself.”
Torin stared at Drocco for a moment and then relaxed into a wary smile. “That is the smartest thing I have heard you say since she arrived.”
“But I don’t trust Malloron at all,” Drocco said.
Torin nodded. “No. I could speak to our Talent-crafters to see if they are able to create such a spell, but it seems it would be involved, complex, and require immense skill.”
They were both silent for a moment, in thought.
“Is there any way to assess if what he gives us is harmful?” Drocco asked.
Torin nodded. “Yes, our Talent-crafters can assess it. But I doubt he will harm your Omega. Reports suggest he has always been desperate to find the Omegas. It’s likely he wants to know what you know.”
“It could be harmful to me, then.”
Torin shot him a disbelieving look. “It’s highly doubtful. He will know he is no match for the Lox army, who will all want to avenge you until their dying breath—even more so now that you have actually found an Omega. Also, there are Lox in the Western Lands now. We have warriors in his territory.”
Drocco raised his eyebrows. He had ordered a troop to be sent to the Western Lands before he locked himself in with Cailyn. “They arrived safely and without detection?”
“Yes. If he tries to threaten us, they are in place to deal with him.”
Drocco nodded. It was always going to be a risk to deal with Malloron, but he had to weigh up the importance of what he was offering. Was it worth the risk? He considered Cailyn. She was worth it. “So we take his offer.”
Torin nodded slowly. “You will give him what he wants?”
“Yes, except actual warriors. It just means we will have to change our methodology.”
Torin stood. “All right. I shall see you tomorrow? I can send someone to your bedroom when the meeting time is approaching.”
“No,” Drocco said, standing with him. “My Omega needs space from me tonight. Fill me in on all that’s happened since I have been with her.”
***
The next day, Drocco paced in the meeting room while the Talent-crafters prepared the portal. He had spent the night in his office, away from Cailyn, and after spending so long buried inside her, surrounded by her scent and being able to taste her whenever he wanted, it had been difficult being separated. A foul mood gripped him, and he wanted the meeting over with so he could return to her.
Torin watched him closely, having made clear his annoyance that Drocco had put himself in a situation where his emotions were, yet again, unstable. “Why didn’t you summon a Beta female to spend the night with you?”
Drocco looked at Torin, turning to face him before answering. “There are many things we have shared and understood between us during our friendship, Torin. But I cannot make you understand how much more superior my Omega is to me than a Beta female. It cannot compare. She is exquisite. I would rather have nothing than a poor imitation.”
Torin’s face slackened in shock and for a moment he seemed speechless. He studied Drocco. “We don’t have to do this today.”
Drocco shot him a look that needed no further elaboration.
Finally, the crafters were ready. They all took their places, one of the crafters standing next to the portal to check whatever Malloron planned to give Drocco.
“Greetings Malloron,” Drocco began, when the man appeared. “May Eiros thrive and be wealthy.”
“And may the mighty Lox Empire remain eternally dominant and just,” King Malloron returned. He leaned forward. “What is your decision?”
Drocco appreciated his straight-forward approach. “I will take your deal.”
Malloron smiled.
“With some amendments,” Drocco added.
Malloron’s smile faded. “Like what?”
“Firstly, you have been dominating the ports and not allowing traders from the islands fair access. These islands are part of my Empire and their traders have priority. You will pull back.”
Malloron nodded. “I wasn’t aware of that. Of course.”
“With regards to our agreement, I will give you all the knowledge of how I created the Lox in return for your spell, but I will not send you warriors.”
Malloron nodded. “Deal.”
Drocco eyed him carefully before nodding himself. “Deal.”
Malloron stood. “In order to do this now, I’ll need to take hold of your portal. Do you permit it?”
Drocco glanced at the group of Talent-crafters behind the portal. They all nodded. “Yes,” he replied.
The portal began to glow, and then widen, change color and stretch. After a few moments, it settled back into the shimmer it had been before. “We can now pass items through the portal,” Malloron said.
Drocco nodded. He held his hand out to the Talent-crafter who handed him a bundle of parchment. “Give me your spell first,” he said to Malloron.
Malloron stood before the portal and lifted a scrap of parchment in his hand. “It’s a series of words.”
Drocco frowned. He glanced at Torin, who was already discussing it with the crafters. “I do not use the Talent, Malloron,” Drocco said. “I cannot cast a spell.”
“If you want to be the one to see her history, you have to cast it,” Malloron replied. “That is the only way. You don’t have to be skilled in order to cast it, you just have to say the words correctly in the Ancient Tongue. The spell is weaved to do the rest of the work.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Torin nodded, but Drocco remained silent. He had never thought he would ever use the Talent. Ever. His father had met his end at the hands of a Talent-crafter—in fact, their entire existence when Drocco had been younger had been difficult because of Talent-crafters. He had never once desired being involved with magic in that way.
As he stood considering it, Malloron watched him closely. “I have made it easy for a non-skilled person to cast this, Emperor. It has taken a lot of work on my part. I have hardly slept or ate since we last spoke. If you are concerned, you can have your crafters look at it thoroughly before you give me your part of the bargain.” He held out his scrap of parchment, his hand penetrating the portal.
Drocco took the parchment and gave it to Torin, who brought it to the Talent-crafters. As they stared at it, discussing quietly, Malloron stood and waited patiently.
Something about his behavior was disturbing. Drocco watched him closely, but couldn’t place the feeling. The parchment came back to him with a nod from his Talent-crafters and Drocco looked over the words.
“How do I cast this?” he asked.
“Make sure you’re looking in her eyes,” Malloron said. “And say it clear and loud. You will have to memorize it.”
Drocco nodded. He pushed his bundle of parchment through the cool silky feel of the portal. “Here is an outline of everything I did to create the Lox. I cannot guarantee it will work for you.”
Malloron nodded and took it. “Thank you. I wish you well with your casting, Drocco. I will listen for good news that you have found more Omegas. I’m pleased to consider you an ally.”
Drocco nodded. “As am I. Farewell.”
Malloron bid him farewell and closed the portal.
Torin approached him as the Talent-crafters left the room again. “That was strange.”
“I know,” Drocco said, thoughtfully.
“It was too easy—he was too amenable.”
Drocco glanced at him. “But the spell is safe?”
Torin nodded. “It seems so. The Talent-crafters say it’s a complex spell and it seems safe but they cannot see every thread of it. They wish to examine it further before you use it just in case.”
“How long will that take?”
Torin shrugged. “A week, maybe two?”
Drocco thought for a moment. “No. I want to use it immediately.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. The quicker I know more about her, the quicker I can find the other Omegas. Plus, her Haze is close. Explain this to them and tell them they have three hours to examine it further. Can I cast this even if the charms disabling the Talent are in effect?”
“Since the Talent has been disabled on the floor of your bedroom, the spell may need a charm to protect it from being disabled too. The Talent-crafters have been working on a solution for this since yesterday. They should have something.”
***
When Drocco returned to his bedroom, he was pleased to see the extent of Cailyn’s anger. The room was a mess—more so than he had imagined.
He stood by the door scouring the room for her. “Cailyn. Come here.”
There was no answer. He peered over to where her nest usually was, but it had been moved about in her frenzy.
“Don’t make me come and find you, Cailyn,” he warned.
After a long moment, a shuffling came from a corner next to the bed. Cailyn’s head appeared as she pulled herself up from a wad of blankets. She looked as though she hadn’t slept much either. Her hair was a frazzled mess and the hard look of anger was still on her face. As usual, she looked gorgeous. He stepped through the mess toward her.
“Don’t come near me,” she snarled.
He kept going until he reached her corner, trying not to smile at how appealing she was when she was angry. He had missed her.
“Don’t!” she shouted, as he pulled her out of her nest, like he had done so many times before. “I hate you!” she spat.
He lifted her up into his arms. She tried to resist him but she couldn’t make any impact.
“I don’t want to smell her on you,” she said tightly, fighting him with everything she had.
He shook her a little in annoyance, before holding her tight against him and carrying her across the room, his cock hardening already. “You won’t smell anything.”
She stilled, her body tense. “You didn’t fuck anyone?”
“No.”
All of the tension left her body, and she slumped against him allowing him to press her to his chest. “I still hate you.”
Drocco chuckled as he cleared a space in the middle of the room. He sat her down on the floor and knelt in front of her. Grabbing her hair, he took her mouth in a hungry kiss, running his hands over her back and up the back of her neck. She kissed him back, but he could sense her resistance. He pulled away to stare into her eyes. “I don’t know when you will accept that you are my Omega or that I am your Alpha, but the state of this room confirms it, Cailyn.”
She glared at him. “You think that threatening me that you will fuck another will somehow make me agree with you?”
“I had every intention of fucking another,” Drocco lied, moving to sit before her. “Something else simply came up.”
Her gaze hardened but she didn’t say anything.
“I haven’t been minding my Empire as I should have been,” he added. “I became too busy. It does not invalidate the point that you are angry about the idea of me with another woman. Why is that?”
She remained quiet but her anger was clear, her eyes shiny and hard. In her scent, Drocco could detect again that hint of her Haze. It was approaching. If he was going to apply Malloron’s spell, it had to be now.
He settled in front of her. His Talent-crafters had created a charm for him to wear around his neck. It meant that only he could cast within the area that was blocked.
Staring into her eyes, he said, “Lelah alith sofrey adin-yan mon carrh.”