CHAPTER ELEVEN
DROCCO
Drocco traveled a repeating circumference of the lodge Cailyn called home, getting wider and wider until he reached approximately a one mile radius. Although he kept alert for signs and sounds of other people, his mind was reeling from Cailyn’s outburst.
They were true mates. Of course, that made so much sense—he had almost known it instinctively. The amazing thing was, Cailyn knew it. She stated it as though she knew it to be true. And yet she wouldn’t accept it.
He trudged rhythmically along, his thoughts racing as fast as his heart. Cailyn’s suffering and anguish about her circumstance had shocked him to his core. He thought she had come to terms with the pregnancy, and her status as his breeder, but something shifted at some point that he hadn’t seen or noticed—something he hadn’t been able to prepare for. She was worse than when she woke from her Haze, and that put both her and the baby at risk.
The uncomfortable feeling that rose within him at her screams and pleads for death had been the worse he had ever experienced. It felt worse than when she cried, worse than the look in her eyes when he told her what her life would be with him, and worse than the feeling of watching her drift over his bedroom balcony. He thought that the baby would soften her thoughts about staying in captivity with him and perhaps even soften her toward him, but it had the opposite effect.
The land around the lodge was filled with dead trees, decaying animals, half-grown dying plants, and dusty earth. There was no sign of recent life in any part of the surrounding area or as far as his eyes could see. He came upon a large hill, south of the lodge, according to the trajectory of the sun. Its surface was dry and cracked but firm, and he climbed it hoping to get a view of where exactly in Ricsford he might be. He had never been this far East before, not even with the Lox. If he was going to try to navigate back to the Palace, the vantage point might assist him in deciding which direction to go.
As he climbed, he tried to analyze Cailyn’s behavior, both back when they were at the Palace and in Malloron’s castle, while struggling with his rising desperation. She was slipping away from him, retreating into a suicidal state of mind that he had no idea how to stop. It shocked him that she had wanted death by his hands, but he could only assume it was during his torture of her. He had been careful not to torture her this time, and to ensure he supported her processing the shock of her new circumstances. And still, that hadn’t been enough. As his breeder, she would have been looked after and treated well. He even broke his own rule and sought to comfort her when her fear for him arose. He hadn’t been able to help it—the sour odor of her fear had been too unpleasant.
He reached the top of the hill and froze at the sight before him.
The dry, cracked ground worsened and blackened as it spread away from the base of the other side of the hill, extending as far as his eyes could see. Large cavities dug deep into the land, some large enough that they would easily fit Cailyn’s lodge while others appeared to be as big as his Palace. However, the main shock of the view before him was the presence of the cracked sky. The gentle blue overhead of the lodge and forest morphed into an iron gray with swirling clouds that flickered between ash and charcoal. They hung over the land before him cushioning fissures that opened up randomly to expose a strange black sky that expelled blasts of white fire to the ground. This alone told him where he was. The Wastelands.
He turned slowly in a circle and saw that the edge of the Wastelands ended just before the hill, and there began the dead forest he had been patrolling. Cailyn’s bungalow sat not too far away but the dead forest extended far beyond his gaze, in all directions but the one that led to the Wastelands. Further out in the distance, the forest became denser and thicker and, with no actual leaves or foliage, Drocco could only assume that it became too dense for anyone to pass through easily. They truly were cut off from everything. How could Cailyn be comfortable here? It was dangerous.
He turned back to the Wastelands, his mind once again returning to his Omega. He had to address her emotional state immediately, and not only for the baby’s sake. He began to pace along the hilltop as he tried to recall what he had read about true mates. He had no head keeper to refer to this time, but even if he did, he shouldn’t need him. He should know how to tend to his true mate. The woman that had been designed to be compatible with him in every single way. And yet, annoyingly, the more he tried to remember what he had read, the more it slipped away from him—it hadn’t been something he had focused on, because it hadn’t mattered. He wanted her whether or not that element applied to them. The one thing he did remember was a conversation with Grandfather who had believed that a true mate pairing was rare and should be protected at all costs, even if others who threatened it had to die. And yet Drocco was the one fucking destroying his own. He would have been ashamed to tell his grandfather that his true mate wanted to die to be spared from having his child—from being with him.
A jumble of chaotic emotions ripped through him, forcing him to address his failure. Frustrated, he roared into the air, fists clenched as a crack of white fire struck the ground below the hill. He had to do something. He stood on the hill breathing heavily, watching the fissures open up and shoot white bolts to the dry earth. He didn’t know how long he stood there examining his every interaction with Cailyn, trying to figure out how to fix her, but nothing he came up with resulted in a solution he could accept. He couldn’t let her go, that wasn’t an option. He couldn’t let her die. He couldn’t allow her mental state to affect the child. Those were the most important things. He thought he had already come to terms with the fact that she would no longer be his mate, just his breeder. He thought he could withdraw from her and limit their interaction to one that would not affect him so deeply. It had not worked. Now, hearing her own admission that they were true mates created a desperate longing to have her as such. He had to make her his.
He turned to face the bungalow and lowered to the rough, dead earth, sitting with the soles of his boots on the ground, hands clasped, forearms resting on his knees. After all of the effort he had gone through to get her back, he couldn’t let it be for nothing. He closed his eyes thinking back to everything he had learned in the Keep, everything his grandfather had said, everything he had experienced with Cailyn. Out of all of this, out of everything that had happened, he had been blessed enough to find his true mate—and she was what he wanted. Clearly she violently rejected him, but he suddenly realized he didn’t know why. Yes, she hated that he had kept her captive and tortured her, but her dislike of him, and the whole idea of Alphas being with their Omegas, stemmed before that, based on the conversations they’d had when she was still pretending to be the historian. If they were true mates, that should not be the case. He could only put that behavior down to her conditioning. She had been taught to hate him even before she met him. He was the epitome of the abusive Alphas she had been warned about, and it didn’t help that he had been forced to punish her. He needed to redress the balance, but how?
He opened his eyes after a long while, the meditative contemplation shifting to a conclusion of sorts. If he truly believed in the Alpha/Omega connection, it would bring them together no matter what. He held such a strong belief and conviction in it for so long, now was the time to see if it was true. If it was, their connection as true mates should repair them and correct Cailyn’s opinion of him, although he had no idea how to encourage it along. Additionally, he didn’t trust her. The woman was a liar by trade.
He took out the black location gem Torin had given him and held it in the palm of his hand. With the unsteady environment of the Wasteland so near, it simply flickered erratically, but still glowed slightly stronger when he held it out in Cailyn’s direction.
He began to make his way back down the hill again, noting that the sun had moved considerably in the sky. He had left her too long, he needed to get back.
As he traveled, he made a few firm decisions. Firstly, it would benefit Cailyn to spend time in a place she felt comfortable, even if it was dangerous. So it looked like they were staying here. Since her charm chain had a tracker, there was little risk of her escaping him. Secondly, he couldn’t use their physical attraction to persuade her—she didn’t trust her own body in that regard and would claim he was using it against her once again. Lastly, he had to find a way to get her to be truthful. It was the only way any of it would work.
Drocco clenched his jaw with determination as he trudged back through the dead forest. He had to succeed with this new direction. He had already failed his child by allowing its mother to sink to such a low mental state. If he lost Cailyn to this suicidal mind-set, he would have failed—failed the Lox, failed his Empire, failed his grandfather, and failed his true mate.
***
When he returned, Cailyn was fast asleep where he had left her. He carefully untied her and placed her on the bedding he unloaded from one of the many chests in the living room. He longed to join her in her sleep, run his fingers through her hair, kiss her and cuddle her into him—all that he had forced himself to resist doing in Malloron’s castle—but he held back. None of that would help his cause now.
While she slept, he examined the lodge. It was a solidly built property, quite large in size. Made from hard wearing black brick, the inside walls were reinforced with dark wood. A large fireplace was the main feature in the living area, the largest room in the building, with a kitchen and washroom situated at one end. Outside the door from the kitchen, was a small patch of treated earth. Cailyn seemed to have attempted growing a few vegetables and fruit. Drocco examined the ground but couldn’t see how that patch of earth could thrive while everything around it in the forest lay dead or dying. He came to the conclusion that she must use magic to maintain it. However, she hadn’t been that adept at keeping the plot in good condition because not all of the grown food was suitable for eating or had spoiled.
Next to the patch was a well that hadn’t yet been connected to the kitchen pump to provide water. The windows needed work, as did the doors, part of the fireplace, and the inner east wall. Extra materials such as treated wood beams and glass panes piled up in one corner of the living area with tools to repair and secure the property, suggesting Cailyn planned at some point to do it or get it done. But the seclusion of the property made it otherwise quite secure.
There was no bedroom. However, when Drocco searched the large chests in the living area, the one with bedding materials also had numerous blankets and large scraps of materials, pillows, clothes, and cloths. She had collected an array of clothing, and some had been cut up and half sewn together.
One of the chests was piled up with long-lasting foodstuffs, such as dried beans, grains, nuts, bottles of various drinks, and dried herbs, while another was filled to the brim with fresh food, such as bread, cheese, milk, meat, fruit, and vegetables. Drocco stared at the food, wondering how she managed to keep it fresh. Again, it had to be through the use of magic. Another chest held medicine, healing soaps, and creams as well as books, scrolls of ancient stories, and reports on various countries in the Eastern Lands, some recent, some outdated.
After he had investigated the entire property, he sat in one of the wooden chairs in the living area watching Cailyn. This place certainly seemed to be her home, but that raised even more questions. Were all Omegas living like this somewhere out in the Lands? Did they truly prefer this lonesome existence to being with an Alpha? It was inconceivable.
Cailyn finally stirred as the skies began to darken. She rolled over on the bedding and lifted her head to look around the room. When she saw Drocco she shot upright, gripping onto the blankets and curling it around her.
“I thought you had gone,” she said, her voice hoarse and low as her head dropped, her bouncing curls hiding most of her face.
“No.”
She pressed her lips together for a long moment. “I won’t take us to the Palace, Drocco.”
Drocco leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he took her in. “You will, Cailyn.”
“I won’t,” she said, almost snarling.
“How long do you expect to survive here?” Drocco asked. “You’re not equipped for more than a few months. I’m assuming you bring supplies you need each time you arrive, but if that’s not happening, you will eventually run out.”
Cailyn looked around the space, her eyes lingering on the chests he had opened before returning to the bedding. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Why? Because you intend to die?”
She didn’t answer, though her grip tightened on the blankets.
“You want to starve to death? You want to suffer from illness or injury and die as slowly and as painfully as possible by yourself, in this secluded hell?” Drocco asked, unable to keep the annoyance from his voice. “Have you ever starved, Cailyn? Do you know what that is like?”
She remained quiet, her eyes on her hands.
“Do you know what it’s like to watch an injury become so infected that you know the body will never recover? I notice you have no substantial healing medicines here. What if you became ill?”
“I’ve been in unbearable pain before,” she said pointedly, lifting her eyes to his. “I’m sure I can handle some more on the way to my death.”
Drocco held in his annoyance. “You don’t care about the child at all?”
“It is your child,” she shot at him, her eyes flashing. “Isn’t that what you told me? I have no ownership of it.”
Drocco scowled. Maybe he should not have said that to her. “We will stay here for three months,” he said, firmly. “My army will take that long to return from the Western Lands. You may feel differently with time.”
“I won’t,” Cailyn said. “As long as you keep me prisoner, I will never stop wishing for death.” She rose her head, her shoulders settling down, her back straight and strong. “Give me your word you will kill me, and I will return you to the Palace.”
Drocco shot out of his seat, propelled by a harsh annoyance. “I will do no such thing,” he snarled, a rumbling growl in his chest. “I understand that I overstepped the mark once, but I have never intended to kill you. Regardless of anything that has transpired between us, Cailyn, you carry my child. You are my Omega. I will never willingly end your life.”
Cailyn’s gaze followed him as he paced, trying to control his agitation. “I will never be loyal to you,” she said forcefully. “I will take every opportunity I can to run from you. I’ll attack you as often as I can. I will fight you every step of the way and try to escape every day.”
Drocco’s heart sank as she spat her words out with such hatred, he could not doubt her.
“I’ll try to cut this thing out of my neck every chance I get,” she said, gesturing to the charm chain. “I will be such a difficulty to you that you will wish me dead anyway. I give you my word I will never stop fighting. Not until I’m dead.”
Drocco stilled in front of her, his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he realized his control was already gone.
“Give me death,” she insisted. “I’ll return you to your Palace if you give me your sworn word to end my life as soon as we arrive.”
Drocco held her eyes. Her voice was firm, her body assured, and her gaze didn’t falter. She was too far gone to be reasonable, too distraught to accept that she had actually committed crimes that she should pay for, too angry to care that she would kill the child too. He could not reason with her. He stood for a long moment, battling a rare fear he hadn’t felt since he was a child. He turned and lowered back to his chair. He only had one chance now; the Alpha/Omega connection. He clenched his teeth as he spoke. “Fine. I will give you three months in this property, and a quick death at the end of it after you return me to the Palace.”
“We can go now.”
“No.” Drocco leaned forward. “You want some time here, then we will be here. And in the meantime, you will trade information for your death.”
Cailyn observed him warily. “What information?”
“Every piece that is in your head. All of the secrets you hold.”
She took a moment to answer, her brows beginning to knit. “Some of them are not my secrets to tell.”
“That is the price,” Drocco said, his voice hard. “I suggest you think carefully before you say no.”
“I have no reason to give you those secrets,” she argued. “I’m not going to sentence all other Omegas to a life like mine just so I can die neatly. And I have no idea if you will stick to your word.”
“Of the two of us, I am not the liar,” he responded, bitingly. “I take my word very seriously, which you already know or you wouldn’t be making this proposal. I will give you death if you want it, but I need that payment in return. That means all the information I ask for. It means you will never try to run while we are here and you will tell the truth!” His voice thundered as he reached the end of his sentence. “You need to give me an assurance I can trust your word, since we both know you’re prone to lying.”
“Like what?”
“The location of the real Miss Lefroy and her sister.”
Cailyn frowned. “That is an assurance?”
“Yes. If anything you say proves untrue they will be tortured and killed.”
“How do you know I’ll give you the right information about them?”
“They will be found sooner or later. Whether they die or not depends on you.”
Cailyn closed her eyes for a long while before opening them again. “And if I refuse? If I refuse your deal and don’t take you back to the Palace?”
“Then we will both die here together,” Drocco said. “However, my commander will be looking for me once he realizes I’m not at the Palace, and he is extremely resourceful. I don’t doubt he will find me eventually, and when he does you can guarantee I will ensure you won’t die for many years to come.”
Cailyn’s fingers fidgeted, crinkling and folding the blankets, her eyes darting down.
A long silence stretched between them.
Finally, Cailyn’s head rose. “All right,” she said, almost whispering. "The real Miss Lefroy and her sister are living in Montvara town in Grence. They occupy the top floor of a boardinghouse under the names Mrs. Crowens and daughter, Cailyn Crowens." She watched him, uncertainty in her beautiful brown eyes. "If I’m untruthful, you know where to find them." Her shoulders squared as she took a deep breath. “I’ve given you your assurance. Give me your word.”
Drocco breathed shallowly as he realized the weight of everything that was at risk now. If for any reason, their Alpha/Omega connection didn’t repair them, he would be bound by his own word to kill his true mate. He had half hoped she would refuse—for he had no idea how to mend everything that happened, no way of knowing what action to take other than to blindly rely on the connection they were supposed to innately have—but there seemed to be no other choice. She was committed to this idea of death, willing to even risk Miss Lefroy’s sister, who she had once been desperate to protect.
He spoke slowly, almost painfully. “I give you my word, on the Lox, that I will give you death on the conditions agreed.”
***
Their time together was, of course, uncomfortable and shaky.
At first, Cailyn seemed nervous having him there, and seemed to expect him to interrogate her straight away. She watched him constantly, wary of every move he made. Then, she tried to resign herself to spending days curled up in her bedding. Drocco purposely roused her with continuous questions until she was too concerned about what he was doing in her home to relax.
He set to work improving the property; securing doorways, fixing the windows, repairing all damage, and repositioning everything so that it was more secure. Cailyn was not happy about it, but Drocco refused to listen to her complaints. Just because they were in seclusion didn’t mean the property had to remain run down and unsafe. After questioning her, she reluctantly told him that some of the repair materials had been there when she bought the property and some she had bought herself but not gotten around to getting someone to help her do everything that needed doing.
She confirmed that magical charms were in place in the lodge, as he suspected, and also pointed out, at his insistence, other charms used to clean water from the well, disperse and convert smoke from the fireplace, and fireproof the walls. She explained that she collected spare clothes and materials in order to make herself new clothes, usually simple things such as tunics and skirts that were badly sewn and wonky. Most of the men’s clothing were too small for him, but with some amendments, he concluded that there would likely be enough outfits to last him. He marked each day that passed on a piece of parchment from one of the chests to keep track of their time.
At night, he lay behind her, his arm around her waist, pressing her back tight against his chest to satisfy her and the child, but nothing more. He longed to kiss her, to touch and caress her, to seat himself deep within her, where he belonged, but he would not allow her misunderstanding of her own body to get in the way again—not with so much at stake. However, their bodies still reacted the same way. He remained completely hard for her all the time and the enticing scent of her own arousal swamped him, especially in the mornings. He resolved to get up as soon as he woke to avoid lingering in it when it was so powerful, but it was fucking unnatural to leave his Omega alone when she needed him like that. And he had to fight hard against his urges to do so every time.
As the first two weeks progressed, he moved about the property, focusing on fixing one thing at a time, and she trailed around behind him, interrogating him about what he was doing, making her unhappiness about it abundantly clear, and generally getting in the way. He ignored her, but secretly, he loved that she followed him around. She could have decided to return to staying in her bedding all day and not engage with him at all, so it was a good sign. Eventually, she stopped complaining and simply sat and watched him.
“How did you learn to do that?" she asked one afternoon, as he worked on one of the windows.
“Do what?"
“Fix things. I thought you were a warrior."
Drocco glanced at her. "I grew up fixing things and I grew up with an axe in my hand."
“Most men learn one or the other."
“I’m not most men," he muttered. He tested the frame of the window. Part of it had become rotten and he had hoped that by resealing it, it would hold the shutter in place better but it looked like the whole thing needed replacing.
Cailyn watched him. "Tell me," she said, slowly. “Tell me how you were able to learn to be both a warrior and to fix things like this."
Drocco gave her a sideways glance. "I'll need a secret to give you anything like that."
Cailyn stilled. "What do you mean?"
Drocco turned to her. "You give me one of your secrets and I will tell you."
"What do you want to know?" Cailyn asked, her voice becoming quiet.
"How did you learn the Talent?"
Cailyn swallowed. "I started learning when I was nine. I studied Talent-lore and learned spells and the power of different gems to understand how to make charms. But mostly the training consisted of mental practice. As I grew up I received instruction by many different Talent-crafters on how to manipulate magic in the most effective ways."
Drocco cursed. "And none of them told you that it causes brain damage?"
Cailyn shook her head. "There are many Omegas who use the Talent. None of them suffer the kind of brain damage that has been recorded across the Lands."
"It doesn't mean it won't still happen," Drocco said, shooting her a sideways glance. “It could just take longer to affect you.”
"I don't think it will. If my mind was being affected in that way, it would have started to decay already."
She had a point. If she started learning the talent at nine, she would already be deliriously crazy by now at twenty-five. However, that did not make him feel any better about her using it.
He took some time knocking out the old frame, causing chunks and splinters of wood to skid across the floor, then began cleaning out the rotting wood from the wall.
"I lived in a house like this when I was growing up," he said. "Only our house was bigger so there was more to repair. My grandfather was an exceptional swordsman. He trained with warriors in the Southern Lands and eventually ended up as a tribe leader's trainer, but before that, he was a carpenter."
"Your grandfather was from the Southern Lands?"
Drocco shook his head as he prepared the cement paste. "He was born here in the Eastern Lands, but spent a large part of his life there."
"Is it true that the Southern Lands are filled with snow and always cold?"
"Yes. They have a season that is mild, where the snow melts and the land looks as though it's going into a new warmer season, but that is as mild as it gets. The rest of the time, it’s filled with snow and the people go to great lengths to stay warm."
“How come your grandfather was there? Why did he come back?"
Drocco mixed the paste until it was stiff and then paused. “Surely you're not really interested in that?" he asked. All of this background and history about his grandfather was boring. His grandfather’s story did not end well, and laboring on his life seemed meaningless.
Cailyn shrugged. “Might as well pass the time.” She picked up a hand brush and began sweeping the broken and rotting wood toward the kitchen door. "Besides, no one else knows much about your background. I might as well ask."
"My grandfather didn’t have a good end. His story is difficult."
Cailyn’s sweeping slowed as she lifted her shoulders slightly. "Not all stories have good endings," she murmured.
Drocco watched as she discarded the wood and then returned to her stool to watch him. He didn’t like talking about his past, and yet he didn’t want to discourage her from speaking to him. He had figured they would have their entire lifetimes to learn each other’s histories and discover each other’s pasts, but that had now been distilled into a matter of months. He had to talk.
"My grandfather was born in Grence," he began, turning his attention to the window. "He was a training carpenter when he was a boy and he worked with his father to fix and repair things for the people of Ashens. As I’m sure you know, some of the best carpenters and furniture designers come from Grence and my grandfather’s family were all trained in this and similar fields.
“On market days, they had a stall in Ashens’ Market Square where they would sell popular, handmade items and also give a service to those wanting things repaired. One afternoon, a dispute rose up between a Southern Lands visitor and a member of the king’s guard. The Southern Lands visitor was a warrior, and he cut down the guard with such force and brutality that it was a shock to all of the people in the Square. But my grandfather was completely in awe of the warrior’s ability to protect himself. He said that his father would never be able to protect his family the way that the warrior had protected himself and stood up for his beliefs. He began to wonder why he was trying to go into a profession that did not seek to uphold the standards of Alpha that he deemed most valuable.
"Within the next week he tried to find the warrior but it was difficult because the man was now considered a criminal by the King of Ashens and many were looking for him. Grandfather eventually found him, but the man told him that being a warrior was a calling; it wasn’t only to be used to protect yourself, it was a way of life and a hard life at that. But my grandfather didn’t give up. He visited the man every day, bringing things that the man needed since he was unable to navigate the Eastern Lands freely. The man became fond of my grandfather and shared many stories about himself and the Southern Lands, and eventually began sparring with my grandfather as a way to keep himself busy. Grandfather learned a lot from him just from sparring, but the man still refused to train him properly. Eventually, the man was found by the king’s guard and my grandfather was found with him. They fought together against the king's men and although they both managed to escape, the warrior was fatally wounded. He was impressed by Grandfather, and told him where he could receive the training that he needed in the Southern Lands if he still wanted it. My grandfather tried to look after him but eventually, he died.
“When he went back home and explained what had happened to his father, he was cast out. His father no longer wanted him to remain with the family, since he had brought shame by treason. The king’s guard hadn’t discovered who he was, but it didn’t matter to his father. So my grandfather traveled to the Southern Lands and sought out the training that he needed."
As Drocco came to the end of his sentence, he heard Cailyn yawn. He finished fitting in the new frame and filled in gaps with the paste. The powder Cailyn had bought wasn’t the best to create the sturdiest cement for such usage but it would do.
“That doesn't have a bad ending," Cailyn said after a while, when she realized he wasn’t going to continue.
Drocco glanced at her. "The story isn’t finished, but you’re tired. We can talk again later."
Although he wasn’t watching her, he could feel her annoyance. She sat on the stool a little while longer, but soon yawned again. Then she finally headed to the living area.
Later in the evening, after he had set the frame and repaired the shutter, Drocco headed back into the living area. Cailyn was still asleep so he lit a fire in the fireplace and headed to one of the food chests. As he passed her, she suddenly stirred, her breathing strange, and a thick mumble tumbled from her lips. When Drocco looked closer, the bedding under her face was soaked red. He darted down to her and lifted her upright as she blinked awake. Blood smeared across her face and oozed from her nose. She blinked at him, trying to breathe, confusion on her face.
“Breathe through your mouth, Cailyn,” Drocco instructed. “Lean forward.” He pinched the bridge of her nose and held it, then brought her hand up to his fingers. “Hold your nose like this.”
When she had a hold, he collected a scrap of material from the clothing chest and wet it with some cold water from the well bucket.
“All right, let go,” he said, taking back over with his fingers as he sat down. Cailyn groaned as he wiped her face with the cloth and then pressed the cold cloth over her nose. “It will stop in a moment.” She tried to take the cloth from him but he nudged her hand away with his wrist. “Let me do it, Cailyn,” he murmured.
Cailyn’s eyes met his and she lowered her hand.
The fire blazed behind him, lighting up her face and igniting her brown eyes with a burnt orange glow. Drocco had never seen anything so beautiful. They sat, staring at each other for a long while, the tension in the space between them enticing Drocco to move into it, toward her. His whole body demanded he comfort her properly, but he forced himself to hold back, fighting against the instincts that told him to fulfill his duties as her Alpha. Cailyn’s eyes averted away from his, only to be drawn back within a few seconds. He could have sworn she was leaning into him, but he ignored it. It was too subtle for him to take seriously. Finally, he eased his fingers away from her nose and removed the cloth. “It’s stopped.”
Her hand flew to her face. “That’s never happened before.”
“It sometimes happens during pregnancy,” Drocco said as he stood.
Cailyn’s hand dropped. “Oh.”
“If it happens again, let me know straight away,” Drocco said. “And don’t sleep on your back.”
***
Cailyn had two more nosebleeds over the next two weeks. Each time, Drocco held her nose until the bleeding stopped while yearning to comfort her the way her Alpha should. She let him tend to her, but didn’t say a word to him during the process. He was sure she leaned into him every time.
"You didn't finish the story about your grandfather," Cailyn said as he wiped her face after the third one.
Drocco nodded. "I didn't. I’ll need another secret from you before I continue."
Cailyn narrowed her eyes. "I already gave you one for that story. The story wasn't finished."
"I know," Drocco said, moving to sit on one of the wooden chairs. "But you fell asleep. That's not my fault."
“You sent me to bed!”
Drocco shrugged. “You were tired.”
Cailyn sighed. She got up and went to the washroom to wash her face. “All right,” she said as she reentered the room.
"How and where did you grow up?" Drocco asked. "From what you can remember, I mean."
Cailyn stood silent for a long time. Drocco simply watched her across the room, waiting for her response. This would be the information that would reveal the extent of the Omega disappearance. Obviously, she was reluctant to do so, but that is what she had agreed.
When the silence grew too long, he made a noise of displeasure at the back of his throat. Cailyn glanced at him, dropping her hands to her side as she went to sit back on the bedding. "I grew up in a large village filled with Omegas," she said slowly. "My earliest memory is of playing out on the dusty ground, in the center of the village, with other young Omegas."
"Who ran the village?"
Cailyn lowered her eyes. "Omegas. Omegas ran the whole village."
Drocco held still. If Omegas ran the village that Cailyn grew up in, it further supported her previous statement that Omegas were responsible for their own disappearance. "Where was that village?" he asked.
Cailyn’s eyes darted away from him. "I cannot tell you that," she whispered.
"You can," Drocco said. "This is the agreement we made. You tell me everything. Where was the village?"
The pause was much longer but he waited, his eyes trained on her.
"The Wastelands," Cailyn said eventually.
"The Wastelands?" Drocco repeated, shocked. "The Wastelands that are just beyond that hill? The whole area is poisonous. How could Omegas survive?"
"We make good use of the Talent," Cailyn said. "And we created the rumor that Omegas suffered more from the poisons than anyone else."
"So that no one would think to look for you there to any great degree," Drocco said, understanding.
There was a silence between them, while Drocco digested the information. "The lengths these Omegas have gone through to hide are extreme," he said irritably. "I cannot understand why."
"I told you back at the Palace," Cailyn said steadily. "We were under attack, it was the only way for us to remain alive."
"You wouldn’t have died out," Drocco said sternly. "Alphas wouldn’t have allowed it. There were still Alphas that would have helped and tried to minimize the damage."
"No," Cailyn said evenly. "There were Alphas that would have ensured that their own Omegas were not involved, but they wouldn’t have saved other Omegas. Most Alphas take the approach that you do—they won’t help anybody if that person falls outside of their direct responsibility. They won’t try to help anyone that another Alpha is responsible for, just like those child slaves back at Malloron's castle."
Drocco's nose flared as a heat shot through him.
"There was no one to help us but ourselves," Cailyn said. "And so that is exactly what we did. And after that experience, you think that we would miss being with an Alpha? Or that we would want to be with Alphas? Why would we when others of our kind were so cruelly brutalized?" She shook her head. "I’ve never envisioned being with an Alpha. Ever. It wasn't something I ever wanted."
"Well it is something you have nonetheless," Drocco snapped, annoyed by her admission. "It’s how you were meant to experience life—with me."
“Only for the next two months,” Cailyn said, her voice low and determined.
Drocco ground his jaw, frustrated by her response. "Come here," he ordered, gesturing to the couch. "I’ll tell you the rest of my grandfather’s story." He wasn't particularly keen on returning to the story, but he wanted her near him.
As she settled on the worn couch next to his chair, he continued from where he left off.
“The Southern Lands people are organized into tribes. My grandfather sought out the tribe that his warrior mentor came from and convinced them to train him. They are honor bound people, so the fact that my grandfather had helped a tribe member put them in his debt. He trained with them for years, learning about them and adopting the culture. Then he met my grandmother."
Drocco paused.
"What happened then?" Cailyn asked.
"She was an Omega, but she was betrothed to an Alpha from another tribe," Drocco said. "At this time, Omegas were beginning to disappear, and reports from Eastern Lands and the Western Lands had reached them. So, they were very protective of their Omegas. Pairings took delicate consideration and much negotiation, especially since every tribe wanted pure children."
Cailyn frowned. "What do you mean pure?"
"Alpha and Omega couples produce dynamically strong children."
She shook her head. "What do you mean?"
Drocco thought back to what he had read at the Keep. Although he had already known about dynamic purity, records at the Keep had explained it the best. "The recognized qualities and behaviors of an Omega and an Alpha are stronger in them if their parents were an Alpha and Omega couple."
Cailyn's eyes drifted across the room as she thought through what he was saying. "What about Betas?"
"Alpha and Omega couples rarely have Beta children," Drocco explained. “And Betas tend not to have any strong defining qualities and behaviors anyway."
Cailyn tapped her knees as she thought. "So Betas dilute the dynamic quality of the other two?"
"Yes."
“That's not something I've heard of before," Cailyn admitted.
“The information was heavily suppressed by all rulers and leaders when Omegas began to disappear. But there is still information on it."
“But does that really matter?" Cailyn said after thinking for a moment longer. “What difference does it make in real terms?"
“For most, it makes no difference," Drocco said. "But in the Southern Lands, they wanted their Alphas pure. Only pure Alphas became tribe leaders and they believed that only leadership by pure dynamics could successfully enable their survival in the challenging environment. They spent a lot of time negotiating and organizing their tribes, and obviously every tribe wanted pure Alphas. So when Omegas began to disappear, they became highly concerned and nervous."
Cailyn nodded. "And your grandfather," she said hesitantly. "What did he do about the Omega he wanted?"
“He stole her."
Cailyn's eyes widened. “He stole an Omega?"
Drocco nodded. "He believed that she was his, and there was no way he was going to allow her to marry another."
Cailyn regarded him for a long moment and then scowled. "It seems to be a common behavior type in your family line."
Drocco leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "You misunderstand. He stole her from the tribe, but she wasn’t unwilling. She recognized that he was her Alpha also, but was conflicted by her duty to her tribe. He made the decision easy for her by taking her away. If she hadn’t chosen to be with him it’s likely that she would have been unhappy for the rest of her life."
Cailyn pursed her lips in thought, and then dipped her head in a sharp nod. “And what happened next?"
“He brought her back to the Western Lands and set up home with her. Although he was trained as a warrior, he reverted back to his skills as a carpenter to provide a home for her and also to remain undetected by the tribe searching for them. Eventually though, she was taken, and he was lost without her. As he aged, he weakened and lost his mind, lost everything that had once been strong about him. He became…" He couldn’t finish his sentence and Cailyn didn’t seem to need him to.
They sat for a long time, both in thought as the fire died.
“So…" Cailyn began, hesitantly. “Are you a pure Alpha?"
Drocco gave her a small smile. “That’s my father’s story. For that, I would need another secret."
Cailyn scowled, but he could see it wasn’t a real one. After all, she had already promised her secrets. The fact that he was giving information about himself was simply a way to talk with her, but the topic ladened him with emotions he hadn’t experienced in a long time. "Not now though," he added. "I was in the middle of fixing that back door when your nosebleed started. We will return to this subject another time."
***
Over the next week, Cailyn slept more than usual. One morning, he noticed that she hadn’t followed him into the kitchen where he was working on the kitchen pump. He returned to the living area, and she was still curled up in the sheets, rocking slightly with her hand on her stomach.
"Cailyn," he said, kneeling down next to her to check she hadn’t had another nosebleed. "What is it?"
She moaned and shook her head. "I feel sick."
Drocco watched her for a long moment, unsure what to do, and then he lay down behind her. "It is a natural part of your pregnancy," he murmured, as he wound his arm around her stomach and pressed himself against her back.
"I hate it," she mumbled. "I've never felt this bad in my life."
Drocco leaned in and resisted from kissing her neck. "It won't last forever," he said into her ear. "Only a few weeks."
"Weeks?" She groaned and shook her head.
Drocco resisted chuckling, trailing his fingers over her stomach.
After a few long moments, Cailyn turned her head toward him. "Do you know much about Omega pregnancy?"
"I studied it at the Records Keep," Drocco replied. "It isn’t much different from a Beta female pregnancy, except the need for the Alpha, but there are obviously higher risks."
Cailyn was silent for a while. "You studied Omega pregnancy at the Keep?"
"Yes."
"With me in mind?"
Drocco recognized the hardening of her voice. "Yes," he said firmly. "I already told you during your Haze that I was intending to get you pregnant. I intended it from when you were back at the Palace. This should not be something that still angers you."
Cailyn huffed and turned her head back to face front. "You say that you respect Omegas and the Alpha/Omega connection. I struggle to understand how you can respect someone you manipulate so thoroughly," she replied, bitingly. "It feels like you don't understand what respect is. You say one thing and yet you do the opposite."
Drocco's hand became firmer on her stomach. "Respect has to be earned, Cailyn. It works both ways. I do respect Omegas, and the Alpha/Omega connection. But I don’t respect spies. And I don’t respect anyone who doesn’t respect me as an Alpha." He slowly turned her onto her back so that he could see her face. "You lied to me and came to me under false pretenses. You were intending to use me to get information, and when you were found out you tricked me by hiding yourself behind that barrier using the Talent. As much as you hate being manipulated, you have shown yourself to be a skilled manipulator.”
Cailyn stared at him with an expression he hadn't seen before.
"I innately recognized that you’re the only Omega I want,” he continued, “but I also recognized that your behavior needed reprimanding. I wanted it corrected before any form of respect could grow between us."
“You expected to correct my behavior? Like I’m some wild dog needing training?” Cailyn asked, her voice hard.
"I expected to punish your treason," Drocco said sharply. "And maybe, once that was done, we could move on to build a true connection."
Cailyn shook her head. "How could you expect that? How could you expect me to want a connection with you when you punished me in such a way?"
"How could you expect me to trust you if I didn't?"
"But you don't trust me. You didn't correct my behavior, Drocco. You made me want to escape and get away from you. Your entire method didn't work."
A soft growl grew in Drocco's chest. "It didn't work because I didn't stick to your torture methods," he said tersely. “If I had, you would have been suitably punished.”
"Why didn't you stick to it?" she asked.
"I didn’t want to destroy our possible connection any further,” he said, irritably. “But I tried to repair it and you didn’t accept it."
As she tried to respond her whole body trembled and she clenched, her face contorting. He turned her back over to face away from him, continuing to rub her stomach as he pressed into her, purring as he curled his body around her soft, small one.
After a while, her breathing evened out. "Are you feeling any better?" he asked.
She nodded but didn’t say anything.
For most of the next week, Cailyn suffered from nausea, though she didn’t actually vomit. Drocco stayed with her, rubbing her stomach and pulling her body close to his, though he was careful not to pet her or touch her unnecessarily. She seemed to feel better once she had lain with him for a while. Perhaps being close to him improved her nausea, perhaps she could sleep better with him next to her, perhaps she needed to feel his touch… or maybe it was none of that and he just liked to think so. Maybe their connection was too impaired for it to matter.