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by Alison Aimes
She didn’t speak again.
Her clean, pure scent filled his lungs. Potency rushed through his veins. His first taste of true power, of the Alpha birthright that would be his if he survived adolescence to wield it. The rush of it made him dizzy.
He was invulnerable. Powerful. Hard as hells.
His cock, which until that moment had been pretty useless to him, was suddenly the beginning and end of his existence.
But more powerful was the surge of an altogether different instinct, a possessive, protective compulsion to protect the girl in the same way he did his siblings. As if she too were bound to him by blood.
He wanted to master her. Dominate her. Guard her. Mark her. Keep her.
“Tell me your name.” His voice was a lower growl than he’d ever used before.
“Your eyes were amber. Now, they’re red.”
“Your name,” he demanded. His eyes had never changed before, but he’d never experienced the stages of a rut before, either.
“D-Dahlia Lundin.”
First daughter omega of the male who’d killed his father and fucked his mother.
He could forgive her even that.
“Look at me.”
Her gaze lifted at his command.
Up close, she was prettier. Long thick lashes framed eyes that sparkled with flecks of silver. And her scent . . . it was flawless, pristine, unique, like a snowflake melting on his tongue. He wanted to taste her everywhere.
“Did you see what I was doing?”
She swallowed hard. He could tell she wanted to lie.
He growled once, a low, primal rumble born of instinct.
“Yes.”
“You tell anyone what you saw and,” he repeated the threat he’d had hurled at him more times than he could remember, “I’ll find you, hold you down, ass-fuck you, knot you, and give you a whipping you won’t forget.”
She paled. “I won’t. I swear.” Her gaze flickered to his before dropping once more. “There are some inner-planetary coins in the top drawer of the bureau. You could take those too, and no one would realize until too late.”
His gaze narrowed. “Why would you tell me that?”
This time, her stare rose to meet his. “Why not?”
She might look delicate, but she had spirit. He liked that.
He shoved the sconce into the waistband at the back of his pants. “I won’t always be getting my ass kicked, stealing small crap, and wearing rags.”
She shivered. “I know. I can sense your power. You’re destined for greatness.”
He nodded, doing his best not to show how her words soothed something inside of him. It wasn’t good to look weak, or as if you cared what others thought, but he’d been overlooked so long, it was satisfying to hear the certainty in her tone.
Nice. Like her.
It reminded him that her first words to him had been ones of compassion . . . because she thought him weak enough to need it.
“Why are you here?” Olan brought his prime omega with him often enough, but he’d never brought his daughter to Abzal before.
A tiny scowl formed between her delicate eyebrows. “I arrived this morning. Normally, I’m kept at the compound, but my mother and I stopped over because my Alpha says it is time for me to go to omega finishing school.” Her nose wrinkled, her words coming easier as her emotions overrode her awareness of him. “I don’t want to go. I hate the idea.” She swallowed hard. “That is why I helped you. Because I wish I could do what you are doing, stealing enough to be able to run. I don’t want to be an omega. I-I want to escape with my mother and my baby sister and leave Anarcheim for good.”
The growl erupted without warning, the burgeoning Alpha in him offended by her rejection of what was his to claim.
“I’m sorry.” Cheeks red, she bowed her head. “I forget myself.”
Two different instincts warred within him. Remembering her earlier kindness, he let his more understanding side take the lead. “If I was a Lundin, I’d be miserable too.”
Irritation flashed in her eyes. “My baby sister is a Lundin and I like her. That is why I will find a way to flee. Because she is a Lundin worth saving.”
“No, that is why I will rise to the top and come for you both.”
“Really?” Her big blue eyes grew wider. “Would you? We can go to the Federation for help. I heard a beta servant once say that they are the only organization in the galaxy that can take on the Brotherhood.”
“Those uptight do-gooders?” he snarled. The Federation was the law of the galaxy, a collection of puritanical self-righteous politicians out to take down the Brotherhood. Their rules for their citizens were so strict, Nikolai would rather have been dead than live a life sentence under their thumb. They required all Alphas, except those in their military, to take suppression drugs. The same was demanded of all Federation omegas. “They’re the worst, and worthless, too.” His chest puffed wide. “I have no intention of running or crawling to the Federation for help. I will become the most ruthless Alpha warlord this galaxy has ever seen. No one will fuck with me. They’ll be too terrified. Only my family will be spared my wrath.”
“You will kill me?” Her voice was a squeak.
“No. You will become mine.”
Her eyes flared, then darkened with sadness. “You will not want me.” She moved closer to whisper her confession. “My parents do not want me to talk about it for fear of lessening my value, but my gift hasn’t shown itself yet. That’s why they’re sending me to the school. They’re worried I might be one of those omegas that never reaches her potential. But I don’t think it would be so bad. If my gift never shows, maybe they will let me run away without a fuss.”
He should have rejoiced at his enemy’s troubles. Instead, he worried for her. An omega who never showed any evidence of enhanced gifts was reduced in value since it was assumed she might pass on the same failing to any omega offspring.
Such a female had no chance of becoming a prime omega and was rarely desired as indentured property, either. Most were relegated soon after estrus to the position of omega whore, untethered to any family and shared by all. It was an even lower position than his mother currently occupied, and that seemed difficult enough.
“You will find your gift.” It wasn’t a comfort; it was a command. He needed time to secure his place.
“I-I don’t know.”
“You will.”
She bowed her head once more. “Yes, Alpha. I will.”
“Good.”
“Thank you for your faith.” She was a talker, his omega. “You are a good Alpha.” There was hero-worship in her gaze. It made his cock harder. “If I had my own shuttle, I’d take you away with me right now.”
He studied her, resentment mixing with something softer. He didn’t like that she thought he needed her help, but her pledge warmed him all the same. “I think you would.” So many people had made him promises. None had proven true. He’d learned long ago to depend only upon himself. But this girl . . . he almost believed. “But that is not your job. I shall come for you.”
She smiled shyly, echoing his words. “I think you would.”
“I do not say what I do not mean.”
“Dahlia Lundin!” The snap of admonishment crackled in the air. It came from the same beta servant who’d squealed on poor Naytalia. “Come out of that room this instant. You do not associate with filth. If your Alpha hears of this, you will be punished worse than usual.”
Worse than usual.
Nikolai’s rage surged. He’d tear them all to pieces before he let her be hurt. He started forward.
With a gasp, the beta scrambled out of sight.
“No, please.” A tiny delicate hand wrapped around his arm, the omega’s fingers curling around the leather band at his bicep while her palm seared his skin. “Don’t risk yourself.”
At her touch, several things happened at once.
First, a rush of violent white heat slammed through every cell. His skin pulsed as if the
muscles beneath were suddenly too large for their casing—the force of it almost enough to send him to his knees.
He was aware of everything in a way he hadn’t been before: the scents of those not just inside the house, but at the farthest ends of the outpost, the sharp tang in the air that signaled a storm, the sound of ice cracking in the fields several lengths off, and most significantly, the throbbing knot at the base of his cock and an intense, all-encompassing lust.
Second, he saw that he was not the only one affected. The girl vibrated as if electrified by his touch, and her crystal-blue eyes bled to black.
Before he could process what was happening, the images crashed into him, projected simultaneously like a vid into his mind, and at the same time, in the space above his head.
Murky and blurred, but accurate, nonetheless. He knew. Because it was a memory he’d lived through. The rotation his father, Burian Skolov, pressed the leather band with the Skolov crest into Nikolai’s hand and told him to “hold it for a sec while I take care of this outsider Olan Lundin.”
Worse, anyone who walked by could see the past exchange and live it too. Her vision forecasted in technicolor above his head as Nikolai’s younger self stood tall, absolutely certain that the bully who’d always controlled his life would prevail. He’d still been thinking that as the warm splash of his father’s blood hit his cheek and the flimsy bit of stability he’d had was torn apart.
Through the omega’s touch, he heard the screams of his brothers and sisters as the full weight of what his father’s death meant fell on his shoulders. It was up to him now to keep his siblings alive.
The fear nearly choked him. Would he be enough to protect them? He’d have to be.
“What was that?” The omega wrenched her hand from his, black eyes dilated with shock.
The image vanished from his mind and the air in front of him.
He found his voice. “I guess your gift exists after all.”
Enhanced sight of the past and the ability to project it so others could see it, too. The omega girl had a powerful gift.
They stared at one another.
Raw, blistering shock vibrated between them.
His fury came next. He didn’t like feeling exposed. He hated anyone knowing his doubts and fears, her most of all.
“I have never done anything like that before.” Her body swayed as if she might fall. “I have no idea why it happened now.”
He did.
He glanced down at his wrist. Faint golden lines that hadn’t been there before were beginning to circle his wrist like a band. If he turned the omega’s hand over, he’d find the same thing.
He’d only heard of this happening once in his entire planet’s history, but there it was. Proof.
No wonder he felt such a connection to the girl.
If they remained together, the bands forming on her wrists would darken and become full cuffs. A band would appear around her throat like a collar as well. If she did not remain in his presence, the marks would disappear. The same went for the bands at his wrist.
“I-I am sorry for what my father did to yours, Nikolai Skolov.”
Thanks to her gift, she knew his name and so many secrets he hadn’t wanted anyone to learn. The brush of her sympathy was like sandpaper against his skin. “You’ll make it up to me.”
Her winged eyebrows shot upward. “How?”
“That gift of yours is going to be useful in all sorts of ways.”
She seemed shocked, then offended, and then scared. “You’re like them . . . Oh gods, once they know . . .” She looked terrified. “There will be no chance of escape.”
He couldn’t give her false hope. Nor did he want to. “You cannot run from what you are.”
Defiance flared once more. “I can try. I am more than a vessel to be used. I don’t want to become like my mother, or yours.”
He growled low. “Accept. Submit. That is the omega way.”
“Not this omega.”
“Dahlia Lundin. Your behavior has been reported.” The beta was back, her stare glittering with smug pleasure. “You will both pay now.”
His omega’s anger turned to fear for him. “You should run.”
“I do not run.”
Her gaze shifted from the door to him and back again. “You will not survive another beating.”
“You’d be surprised what I can endure.”
But her worry for him only grew. She really was too nice for her own good.
“Here.” She pulled something from over her neck and pressed it into his palm. “Take this. Hide it somewhere safe.”
A rope of gems glittered in his palm.
“No.” He pushed it back toward her. He had no interest in more of her pity.
“Please.” She backed up a step, her body trembling, and he knew she was using all her strength to fight the compulsion to obey without question. “Please, Alpha.” The title soothed him, as he suspected she knew it would. “The necklace will be of no use to me where I am going, but for you . . . . You can use it to help with the care of your siblings.” She blushed, knowing full well she only knew that information because of her gift. “And, maybe, if I haven’t escaped on my own by then, you could use it to keep your promise and find me.”
Count on it, omega.
“Fire!”
Olan stumbled into the front hall, his panicked prime omega clinging to him. Both were coughing and covered in ash. The prime omega’s usually perfect hair was tilted to the side while Olan’s shirt was torn, his skin smeared with soot and strange blackish-red streaks across his chest and arm. “The back of the building is in flames.”
Nikolai’s gaze snapped down the hall.
It couldn’t be. Fires were rare on the ice planet, but when they happened, it was bad.
The non-native timber used for building was not meant for this climate. Its brittle, dry state was akin to kindling, and the brutal winds only made matters worse.
The stench of smoke singed Nikolai’s nostrils.
“It’s moving fast,” roared the Lundin head. “Everyone out!”
Why the fuck did Olan have blood on his skin? Even through the smoke and soot, Nikolai could scent it.
And identify it as familiar.
His chest went tight.
“It’s going to blow.” Olan stumbled toward the front door, shoving past them, a coward revealed.
Right behind him was a panicked crowd of Alpha soldiers and beta servants. A stampede.
Nikolai grabbed his omega and flattened them against the wall.
More servants and soldiers followed.
But not his mother.
Not the twins, either.
“We have to get out of here.” The terror in the girl’s voice decided him.
“Go!” He pushed her toward the exit, but instead of following, he darted in the opposite direction, down the hallway toward the family’s private wing and the omega quarters. He ran past a few beta servants who were coughing as they hurried by.
Thick smoke made it hard to see.
He slammed into something and then heard the shriek as a body hit the wall and then toppled downward. Even at his young age, Nikolai was still already more solid than any beta.
With a curse, he reached out a hand, but the male beta servant was already bounding up, his face covered in soot, his eyes full of panic. “They’re dead! It’s too late for them. Save yourself!”
The servant darted by.
No! There was still time.
From outside, so faint he could barely hear it over the roar of the flames, he caught the sound of the omega girl screaming his name. The panic in her voice pulled at him, but he fought it. He had another priority now.
Determination growing, Nikolai sprinted deeper into the smoke and ash, rushing down the hall toward the sleeping quarters, choking and gagging until he saw it . . . the wall of flames at Naytalia’s door.
His stomach heaved.
Holding up his forearms to his face, he peered past the flicke
ring orange, purple, and red, searching for movement, listening for cries of help.
Nothing.
All too soon it was clear why.
Through the thick smoke and flames, he could see Naytalia’s sightless eyes, her burning body less than three arms’ lengths from a door she never reached. Flames devoured her hair, clothes, and skin, erasing who she’d once been, but not yet enough to hide the gaping blaster hole in the middle of her belly. Just behind her was the crime boss Ghal Kuril. Two blasts in his chest and stomach burned just as fast as he lay half on his belly, half on his side, as if he’d been trying to turn over when he died.
It wasn’t fire that had killed them, but a laser.
No wonder that servant had said they were beyond help.
Angry flames at the far end of the room licked their way up the sides of the cradle where Naytalia had put the twins to sleep, the bedding and the wood ablaze.
Nothing could survive that.
Pain crippled Nikolai, slamming him to his knees, making it impossible to breathe.
The twins were dead.
Killed by the same bastard who’d murdered Naytalia and Kuril and attempted to cover up the evidence with fire.
But Nikolai refused to let him get away with it.
No one would give a shit about what happened to an omega property whore or her brats, but they would care about a murdered Brotherhood head.
He’d drag Kuril’s body out of the room as evidence if it was the last fucking thing he did.
For the twins, Zaya and Mikhail. For Naytalia, too.
Sucking down a breath, he prepared to launch himself through the flames.
Except a burning piece of ceiling crashed down and slammed into the side of his head.
His ears rung. His legs folded.
Then, nothing.
6
Fifteen years later
Dahlia bounced on the Alpha’s shoulder, naked while he was clothed. The dark, twisting corridors of the Brotherhood ship a blur as Nikolai Skolov moved at speeds she’d never be able to travel on her own, the blare of the shrieking alarms as loud as the shocked, panicked voice inside her head.