Lockdown

by Carmen Hunter

  “It was playing, I thought we were playing.” The argument didn’t phase him.

  “Was it playing when you slid your hands down my shirt when no one could see? Was it playing when you gave those cute baby doll eyes and said no one would believe me?”

  “Yes, yes!” The long drawn out whine made him hiss. “I thought you were like the other Magen’s! I thought flirting was a game-”

  Sudden removal of his fingers made Purslane gasp, her hips driving back to keep him lodged in place. Whatever anger beginning to simmer inside Conall cooled, a purr of delight escaping his chest instead.

  “You’re just a tease who thinks herself a lady. It was so easy convincing everyone to fuck you. We all saw how you looked at Delavar before this began, begging for his cock with your eyes. I’m the only one who’ll admit I want you, but they need you to look at them like that too. And you will… eventually.” The unspoken threat hung in the air as Con withdrew from her pussy, forcing an annoyed whine from Purslane.

  Even berated and humiliated, a pounding heat in her cunt throbbed for more. But that wasn’t the hole he wanted to ravage. Con placed a hand between her shoulder blades to hold her down, the tip of his cock pressing against the tight ring. “Please Connie, please!” she mewled, kicking her feet against the dirt.

  When she turned her face to the side, looking up to meet the Devil’s eyes with watery ones of her own, she was afraid of being devoured. He wanted everything she offered, and it extended further than pounding her body into nothingness. If it meant her country and her loyalty would remain intact, he could have her soul. The knowledge this would happen to every Omega in Hopelen when she gave away the entrance kept Purslane strong.

  So many lived their entire lives as simple Beta’s using the suppressants. Few suppressed Omega’s would survive the surge of hormones and the wild need to mate and fuck and breed. Only the deviant and depraved could withstand this onslaught. Slick smeared on his dick as Conall pressed against that tight rim until it gave. Purslane let out a lob sob when pain overrode the pleasure he’d given her. Only a slutty little tease could get through this.

  “Please, Connie, please.” The fuller his cock made her, the worse the ache in her core grew. Purslane shoved a hand between her legs, fingers working in and out of her slit. Wetness dripped down her wrist, and she spread it around the hole he filled.

  As she slid slick along his cock to lubricate each thrust, Con’s growl of approval stabbed through Purslane’s chest.. Hope that obedience would earn sympathy made Purslane lift her hips higher and spread her legs wider. He got rougher, trying to find release in the way she gasped and squealed

  Another smack to her burning rump, and he shoved her face back amongst the flowers. Pace hard, fast, and precise, he offered no salvation - only the mercy of fingers against her clit. She wasn’t panting so much as gasping, hips rocking and wiggling against him to feel something other than unbearable friction lighting her nerves on fire. “Please I - I want to be your princess, Connie!”

  “Princesses are good girls. Are you gonna be my good girl now?” Every purr drove her to push against his cock seeking another mind numbing release.

  “Yes!” she screamed, beating the ground with her fists. When Conall took her clit between two fingers to flick and roll, Purslane had what she needed to release. Sharp claws dug into her hips to control the violent bucking of her lust, holding her in place as the man rode her spasming body for all it’s worth.

  As she bounced on his cock, strong fingers covered her mouth and tilted her head to the side. So lost in the feel of his hips ramming against her sore body, Purslane didn’t realize why he chose that position until it was too late. Soft skin broke beneath the Alpha’s pointed teeth. A popping sensation ripped across her neck, his hand on her mouth stifling any sound of refusal other than whines.

  There was no warning she could give as he tore his mark into her flesh. It felt like swimming through fog as he came, pulling out and drenching her back in cum. The soft fabric of her dress soaked the liquid like a sponge, making her blanch. Conall’s expanding knot pulsed, upset it wouldn’t get to rip her innards to shreds while more and more cum dripped from the tip of his cock. Satisfaction and victory that didn’t belong warmed Purslane’s chest at the sight.

  Before Con reached to rub his scent into her skin, she knew he would. Because he thought it in her mind. Like breaking through the surface of murky water, his reasons and rationalizations for all the horrors he’s committed flooded into her. Followed by a cold loneliness.

  This was why he wanted Beta’s. To feel overwhelming connection for a day and leave a free man when the mating mark faded. Betas didn’t mate for life, or rather they didn’t have to. A bite from an Alpha would fade from them, unlike the permanent connection formed from an Omegas bond. And it would leave an unfillable emptiness that screamed to be whole again, with nothing left behind except a husk of the person who used to exist.

  But not for Con. The bond would disappear from his mind within a week, along with any instinct to protect his ‘mate’. A taste of honey. Of connection. And then he moved on. It’s what he convinced his pack was the best solution to their Purslane problem. She could feel that knowledge wiggling around her brain tinged in smugness. He didn’t care if she knew their plans were to make her mindless, and so entrenched in lust she’d fold to their every whim. In fact, he wanted her to know.

  Spiteful laughter cackled against his palm as an invisible string attached itself to his heart and tightened into a noose. She wouldn’t be the one to fall. Conall could hear the anger, pain, and loathing, all directed towards him with focus driven purpose. And louder than the sound of her minds crazed mirth, one word chanted over and over in both of their heads.

  Omega. Omega. Omega.

  She trapped him this time. Forever.

  Chapter Six

  21 days without Suppressant

  Three sets of eyes stared at Conall still dumb founded despite the hours wasted talking. Delavar’s mouth popped open as he sat behind a desk, lips hanging in an almost oafish way. But the man was smarter than a numb minded fool, smarter than anyone gave him credit for. Maybe if it didn’t take so long for him to absorb information off the battlefield, he wouldn’t need Roarke and Doran for diplomacy.

  A tug of guilt tightened Con’s chest at the vitriolic thoughts, an acidic burn settling in his stomach. It’s the worst heartburn he’d ever experienced, increasing the more furious and hellish his thoughts became. Con almost wished for well-deserved punishment if it’d be enough to make Purslane go away.

  But there’d be no beating. No scratching and howling as Delavar brought him under heel before allowing his Second and Third to join. Roarke would get no pleasure from the act as he rolled up his sleeves and sighed like he was about to handle a petulant boy. He’d be right, Conall was the youngest. Doran wouldn’t bat an eyelash, but he’d be smiling the whole time.

  “Stop looking at me like that.” Even with a waspish snap, the demand was Purslane’s. Where once Conall glowed under scrutiny, a proud swagger to every misdeed, now his shoulders hunched. He wanted to disappear back into the shadows, avoid detection, and destroy from within. That last one was more like him.

  “Why did you bite her?” Doran asked. What a stupid question. Like asking why Conall put his new mate in the dungeon again. Or why this time she didn’t earn the conservative chair that let her legs close. Or why there needed to be a bench right in front of her face for all the delicious tools he planned to use on her. There’s a reason people called him the Devil of Sulbai.

  Besides now she belonged to him more than them. He could hurt his toy if he wanted to. So Purslane got to be strung up, arms stretched above her head by a chain. Shackles kept her legs spread eagled and presenting, there’d be o more hiding for the devious little whore. The Devil wanted to see everything she had to offer.

  “I bite all of my Beta’s.”

  “She wasn’t yours to begin with!” Delavar roared, shattering his
chair against the wall as he leapt to his feet.

  “Neither was her ass, but I took that too.” When Delavar lunged forward, Conall was ready to leap aside and avoid the first few hits. But the Second and Third grabbed their First by the shoulders and held him back. Even two against one, and they struggled. It wasn’t fucking fair how strong he was. No wonder he was the Kings favorite… and Purslane’s favorite.

  “Don’t act so surprised, you knew that’s why I was sniffing around the sluts skirts.” he snorted, talking through the searing pain pressed against his lungs. Guilt, the moment he uttered a derogatory name. Fucking bitch made it hard to stand without letting out a wheeze. When he sat, Conall leaned back and crossed his legs like nothing in the world mattered.

  Doran whispered in Delavar’s ear, and their First frowned. “He smells fear on you.”

  Subtle. So subtle only that freak could pick up on the terror gnawing on his bones. A terror that was all Conall’s, despite being the same as what Purslane was feeling. It’s the fear of being trapped, with no way to run. This curse would hang on his shoulders until they died, or another male mated her in estrus.

  “No.” Jealousy seethed through clenched teeth at the thought. Thankfully, the others thought he was denying being afraid. “I need her out of my system, that’s all.”

  “You idiot, the only way to break your bond is mating her to some lower Alpha while she’s in heat.” Doran sneered. “And now the plan you worked so hard for is ruined, and she’s worthless. If she’s worthless, well it’ll be interesting to see how you react to your mate dying at least.”

  Shock rippled through the room at the absurdity of such a statement. He wanted to get a rise and prove a point. Well fine, it did just that. Conall was over the desk, his long legs wrapped around Doran’s broad chest as his hands tightened around the man’s throat. He imagined squeezing until his palms smacked together. There’d be nothing but a fleshy straw for the bastard to breathe through.

  Pain exploded in Con’s shoulder, followed by a blinding light. It took a second to realize Delavar had thrown him off the Third, and whacked him against the wall. He slid to the floor with a splat, opposite the three men he called ‘family’. Doran’s wheezing laughter made the splitting headache forming at the base of Conall’s head spread to his temples.

  Sympathy. Warmth. It echoed through the bond like warm arms extended intending to comfort. Why? Pure understanding flowed into him from Purslane, understanding for everything he was suffering. The jealousy, the need for connection, the fear. Tears bloomed in his eyes with a wet wheeze. He wouldn’t cry in front of these bastards and allow them to view him as lesser than Fourth.

  The Devil doesn’t cry. But the others heard the weak whisper of a wail anyway, and while Roarke and Delavar looked on with concern, Doran… was intrigued. Sick bastard. They all were, all of them had their own perversions. Even sweet and noble Roarke had something dark locked deep, deep, deep. He shoved that knowledge at Purslane and felt her comfort flinch away as if burned.

  Good.

  “Never do that again.” Delavar snapped.

  “He fucking-!” But it wasn’t Conall the First was speaking to, cutting the tirade short. When black, unforgiving, eyes glared at Doran, satisfaction made the Devil smirk. A tickle in the back of Conall’s throat said it was because of the threat to Purslane, not the damage done to him. Only a small thought marring his delight. He should be annoyed Del dearest cared more about Con’s mate, then Con himself. Instead it pleased him to know someone so powerful watched after her… Kinda.

  “He needs punishment. They both do.” Doran went so far as to be bored, his eyes rolling when he stood from the ground. “I was making a point, and now, I’m making a request. I want to doll out the spanking.” Shark teeth glinted in an emotionless smile when he turned to meet Conall’s gaze.

  “Why should I let you be the one who teaches my Fourth a lesson? My Omega.”

  “Because it’s time this pack regained perspective.” Doran snapped, rubbing his throat when his voice twinged. Spiteful pleasure, that’s something Con was familiar with, but this new fear was all consuming. It held him in place like a frightened rabbit. Damn it, Purslane. “This was never about gaining cunt, it’s about getting back a sister.”

  “Don’t act like you care about Shira after all these years.” Roarke hissed, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. No more help would come from him today. “You’ve been apathetic about her since the beginning.”

  “True, I don’t like my bitches being all bark and no bite.” A snarl ripped from Delavar’s throat, but his Third didn’t fold. “Jaron said-”

  “Whatever it takes.” Conall finished.

  Real excitement flowed through Doran when Con spoke, like life being breathed into a statue. This was a predator who knew it’s about to get what it wanted. When they all agreed (except for Roarke) to go on this dark path to save Shira, Jaron made them swear it wouldn’t end until Purslane sang. No personal scruples could get in the way.

  If he would taint four of his sons with atrocious acts, there had to be a reward to make it worthwhile. Shira needed to be standing at the end of the dark tunnel they walked, not Purslane. She wasn’t family. Maybe only two of the four Alpha’s were the Kings blood, but he’d raised Doran and Conall the same. They owed the old man this. “We protect our own.” Con rasped.

  Three sets of eyes swiveled to stare at the Devil willing to betray his own mate. A flash of victory lit Doran’s eyes, until he crushed it underneath a calm facade. But damn it, he was right.

  “What? Purslane isn’t one of us, the fuck do I care what happens to her?” he snapped. No one would question the lie and go against Jaron’s orders by default.

  Whatever means necessary. “Give her to Doran, see if I care.”

  ✽✽✽

  Evil more potent than the devil was never supposed to exist. Yet such darkness stood in front of Purslane with not an ounce of pity, and a lot of curiosity. The constant tug on her heart from Conall’s whirlwind of emotion almost hurt.

  Until their bond fell numb twenty minutes ago.

  Long enough for Doran to get here and roll out a tool kit on the bench in front of her… punishment gear. Unblinking eyes roved along the naked curves of her body. He stared as his fingers traveled along the leather strip of a crop, and the bamboo of a whipping cane. Beneath the sated expression of haughty neutrality was a hunger she’d never seen from him, glinting like a sharks fin in the water.

  “Ready for day one?”

  “Fourteen.” she corrected. A single word from her and his hand landed on the riding crop, making it hard to remain demure. Because of her Doran’s pockets were lighter, and his reputation fraying at the seams. Everyone whispered that he lost his touch after boasting he’d break her in three days. And didn’t.

  “I reset the counter when we miss a day. And you’ve missed-” Doran pretended to count on his fingers, giving up with an exaggerated shrug after five, before smacking his hand with the leather. “So many.”

  She flinched when he came closer, ignoring the eager skip in his step. “Pride and gluttony are unbecoming of a prince.” There’s no pretending her voice isn’t a weak whisper. Not when his fingers grazed her cheek, and she turned to avoid the slightest touch. Still, Purslane didn’t want to believe it was her whimpering so soon.

  Her body could be pushed around, bruised, damaged, but in these shackles she had to be strong. A soldier for her country, for the people in Hopelen living their lives unaware of the woman suffering to keep them safe. She wasn’t weak, she wasn’t.

  “Your words are so poised, even while strung up like a harlot.” Hateful curses filled her to the brim, a cup ready to overflow. But Purslane said nothing to threaten him. No declarations swore she’d force Conall to experience the same pain she did through their bond. That’s what he wanted, fight.

  “To be more precise, you’re a whore, a sold whore. Bought and owned by me, which makes me what?”

  “N
othing.” She spat shifting to glare into Doran’s eyes, her own unflinching. Amusement lifted thick brows for a fraction of a second. Then a smirk tightened the corners of his lips. She heard the crack, and the sound of her own shocked cry before feeling the back of his hand on her cheek.

  “Not quick to catch on, are you?” Purslane lowered her eyes, keeping her mouth shut tight. Silence was just another kind of survival, that’s all.

  “You were always a trouble maker, Purslane. But I enjoyed your wit.” A soft keening left her throat as he slid the crop down her belly. A flash of pain lit up her nipples, one strike after the other.

  When he received no answer, Doran slapped her tits with the crop until she jerked, biting her lip to keep from crying. When he attacked the sides of her breasts or underneath, the leather was long enough to lick her nipples with pain. Tears wobbled on Purslane’s lashes as a tingle of heat sprouted between her legs.

  “I thought you were boring!” She screamed, and for a second she wished he could understand the truth of that statement the same way Conall would. So he could see it wasn’t her spitefulness driving her to speak, but honesty. “Out of all of you, you were the one I cared for the least!”

  Not a single twitch displayed his displeasure, but the next barrage of strikes did. He decorated pale skin in pink stripes, some molting to a furious purple. He assaulted her thighs, her belly, and when he felt cruel back to her chest, making Purslane’s body a canvas as she yanked at the restraints and screamed.

  And then the most shameful of all, he delivered a slap to her pussy, his tool coming away wet. “Am I still boring you, Pur?” he murmured with a look bordering on surprise. Doran brought the crop still glistening with arousal to his lips. A slow tongue traveled up the short length of leather, lapping up every drop of her bodies betrayal.