Reign To Ravage (Myth of Omega Book 5)

by Zoey Ellis

  He kept himself firmly on top of her, his chest against her, his arms around her, his purr strong, while focusing on healing the tenebris. Although Emric delivered fresh clothes, he kept them both naked so there was nothing between their connection—physical or otherwise. He hurriedly treated his injuries with an ointment, knowing it would not heal perfectly without seeing a healer, but not caring.

  Emric brought news of the visitor, who became more and more impatient each day, and of the rulers and their increasing pressure to find fault with him and his rule.

  None of those things were too much of a concern for Malloron. They could be rectified.

  On the fifth day, the tenebris was fully rejoined; although, it didn't flow through Amara’s body like it had done when it was inside him. It was stiffer and rigid, but at least it was whole. He was relieved that it seemed stable.

  He let her rest for most of the day, and kept checking the tenebris, ensuring that it remained intact. Monitoring her over the next day, he noticed she slept easier and seemed to be in less pain when he fed her. A considerable weight lifted from his chest. She would be all right, at least for now.

  The next night, he carefully extracted himself from her and watched her for a long while to ensure she would settle without his weight. Once he was sure she was in a deep sleep, he visited his temple. The guards reported that no one at been in the vicinity since they began guarding it, but he still wove a protection spell around the door to alert him if it was breached.

  Inside, the whole place was a wreck—worse than he remembered. As well as all of the smashed bottles and torn apart books, bookshelves had actually been cracked and cabinets had been shattered. Malloron wasn't too concerned. Much of the unique potions could be brewed again with time and it wasn't impossible to source the rare gems again considering his connections with gem merchants and collectors. He didn't believe that many of the items broken were irreplaceable, even the books could be rewritten and stitched back together—it wasn’t as though they had been burned. In fact, there was only one thing in the room that was irreplaceable.

  He searched through the debris for the Visant Spell Book of Magical Energies Volume Eighty-Four, the one with the instructions about the tenebris. There was something strange about the instruction page that he hadn’t considered before. Firstly, the page had been made from a different type of parchment than the rest of the spell book. The parchment was rougher and yellower, evidencing its age. Secondly, it had been sewn in near the back of the book, suggesting it had come from somewhere else. When he had first noticed that, his father told him that it was different because it had been in the wrong book, but he didn’t explain where the spell had come from or why it was such an older spell among newer ones. There were eighty-three earlier books it could have gone into. If he was going to try to restore Amara, he needed more information, and that book was the key.

  A knock at the door threw Malloron out of his thoughts and he yanked the door open to see who dared disturb him.

  “Pardon me, Your Majesty.” Emric looked utterly miserable and kept his eyes low. “The Southern Lands visitor is extremely dissatisfied. He is preparing to leave. I think it is important that you speak to him now.”

  Malloron huffed out a breath in annoyance. “What happened?”

  “He has been waiting for you to greet him now for nearly a week,” Emric said. “It is considered rude in their culture.”

  Malloron sensed something in his tone. “And?”

  “I took him on a tour of the pleasure chambers and…” He tightened his intertwined fingers as he eyes darted about on the ground. “Banon caused a scene,” he almost whispered.

  “With our guest?” Malloron barked, disbelievingly. “What kind of fucking scene?”

  Emric pressed his lips together to gather his thoughts before continuing. “He didn’t like the way one of the shinno’s followers was looking at me. He assumed he touched me… There was an… altercation.”

  “Arrest him,” Malloron snarled, as he swept past Emric.

  Emric gasped. “Banon?”

  “Yes,” Malloron called over his shoulder. “Keep him detained until I say so.”

  He made his way to the solar wing cursing Banon under his breath. The man had to go and be difficult at an already challenging time. He had been warned about his conduct around Emric’s duties, and he still potentially jeopardized an alliance that was already delicate because of Malloron’s absence.

  The solar wing of the castle was reserved for a large number of visiting guests, usually families with armies who were visiting Eiros. Malloron very rarely needed to use the wing, but the shinno had traveled with practically his whole tribe.

  He arrived at the central room and waited to be announced, and then entered.

  The large room hummed with activity as the shinno’s servants darted about while the shinno himself sat on the large couch in the center of the room flanked by two fierce-looking warriors. The shinno was clearly an Alpha; his size alone suggested as much. The thick pants and strangely fashioned tunic covered his bulk and his head was shaved on either side leaving a very low-cut wide strip of sunlight blonde hair down the middle. The stern fierceness of his expression reminded Malloron of Emperor Drocco and he instantly wondered if Drocco had had any connection with the Southern Lands.

  Malloron strode to stand before him, but the man didn't even rise. “My apologies for taking so long to greet you, shinno Kardos,” Malloron said. “You have arrived at a difficult time.”

  The shinno observed him for a long moment. “You have disrespected my tribe, king.” His voice was scratchy and low. “You invite visitors only to ignore them. I do not wish to do business with such a man.”

  Malloron offered his most charming smile. “It could not be helped, shinno. Surely you have been well looked after—”

  Kardos waved his hand and turned away. “I have no need of extra whores.”

  “In order to do business, you would need to look at the slaves anyway—”

  “We are not doing business. I just said that.”

  Malloron dropped all pretense of trying to appease him. Although he desperately wanted to secure the warriors the shinno was offering in exchange for willing slaves, he had to get back to Amara. “My mate is unwell.”

  The shinno’s blue-green eyes snapped up to him. “What?”

  “My mate is suffering. I cannot leave her for long periods. If you have to leave, then I cannot do anything about that. Emric will show you back to the port. I apologize that we could not find a way to form an alliance.”

  The Alpha rose slowly from the couch, his strange teal eyes locked onto Malloron. “It wasn't known to me you have a mate.”

  “Nor me,” Malloron said, evenly. “Not until after you arrived.”

  The shinno held still for a moment. He turned his head toward the people in the room. “Hallan!”

  Instantly, the servants ceased their activities and filtered out of the room quietly and quickly. Even the guards beside the Alpha left. The shinno kept his eyes on Malloron, an expression of curiosity penetrating his hard face.

  “Is she Omega?”

  Malloron instantly growled, that wild savagery simmering. “I am not clear what business it is of yours.”

  “She is Omega,” the shinno confirmed to himself. His gaze on Malloron was stern. “How did you get one?”

  “My assistant will escort you back to your boat,” Malloron said through gritted teeth.

  The shinno’s expression did not change. “You have an Omega and the Emperor of the Lox has an Omega. I want to know how you got one.”

  “Emperor Drocco has many to spare if you want one,” Malloron snapped. “I only have mine. And she is unwell. Take your leave.”

  “No,” the shinno decided. “I will stay. Tending to your Omega mate over business is honorable. We shall do business when she is recovered.”

  Malloron would have rolled his eyes if he hadn't been keen to get out of there. Honor? He sounded almost ex
actly like Emperor Drocco. He dipped his head in a sharp nod. “I will deal with my own staff who caused trouble in the chambers.”

  “His behavior was unacceptable and unprovoked, but the blame is yours. You should not have rutting males in charge of proceedings in your fuck rooms.”

  Malloron frowned as the shinno retook his seat. Rutting male? Banon had been in a rut?

  “He will be castrated, I assume?”

  “I will deal with him in my own way,” Malloron replied.

  “Then he will hang?”

  “Is that a request?” Malloron asked tightly.

  The shinno’s eyes flashed. “How will you deal with him?”

  “He will be punished according to the rules of the Visant Royal family, not Tribe Nyek.”

  “That is not an answer,” the shinno snapped. “He will be punished sufficiently for nearly killing a member of my tribe or we shall war, king.”

  Malloron’s eyes narrowed. “When you address me correctly maybe we can reach a better agreement.” He turned and headed toward the door. “In the meantime, enjoy your stay.”

  Malloron marched through the corridors back to his rooms, his mind jumping from one thought to another as the irrational anger threatened to smother him. An alliance with shinno Kardos would serve his territory greatly. Malloron was the only ruler in the Western Lands that had a significant army of Talent-crafters, but he needed more if he was ever to challenge the other rulers, and he needed warriors capable of physical combat as well as magical. He had failed in his attempt to secure warriors from Emperor Drocco, but his traders insisted that the shinno also had fierce Alpha warriors in droves and he was very open to a trade. But Malloron would not be dictated to by him. If Banon had truly been in a rut, then he wasn't solely to blame for his actions. No one could have prevented Malloron from taking Amara when she had entered her Haze in the casting room—no one. He would have killed anyone that got in the way. It was doubtful Banon could have reached that state, but he still could not be blamed. Malloron hadn't even been aware of him ever entering that state before. But maybe that was because Emric made a habit of staying far away from him.

  “Emric!” he bellowed, making use of the magical summoning in the walls as he turned a corner. It was time to get answers.

  Emric appeared just as he arrived at the door to his bedroom. He didn't look as optimistic as he usually did—in fact, he seemed miserable.

  “What is the situation with Banon?” Malloron asked.

  “He is detained.”

  “Was he in a rut?”

  Emric’s deep blue brows pulled together. “A what?”

  “A rut. The state an Alpha goes into when an Omega is in her Haze.”

  “Oh!” Emric’s eyes widened and his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I don't know,” he said thoughtfully. “He could have been.”

  “Do Gammas go into a Haze?” Malloron asked.

  Emric flushed so deep it was visible on his brown skin, and he suddenly became flustered. “I-I-It’s been... I’m not sure if—”

  “You must know this,” Malloron growled.

  Emric’s eyes lowered. “I have not known any Gammas, Your Majesty. I don't believe we do, but I have no idea. We have no scent so I’m not sure it matters.”

  “It matters if Banon entered a rut, Emric.”

  Emric lifted his eyes in confusion. “But—”

  “He considers you his mate,” Malloron interrupted impatiently. “If you are in some kind of silent Haze, it could have caused him to act this way.”

  Emric took a tiny step back, horror on his face. “He told you that I’m his mate?”

  Malloron’s patience ran out. “Find out if there is a reason for his rut,” he growled. “Find out if Gammas go into a Haze. I need answers as soon as you can get them to me.”

  Without waiting for a response, Malloron entered his room and stalked straight to his bed, using gestures to slam and lock the door behind him. He had only intended to leave Amara for an hour and he had been away much longer. He stripped and climbed in among the thick blankets and bedding he had surrounded her with and cocooned her with his body again. The pain from his existing wounds faded into the background as he slid in over her, purring as he closely monitored her progress.

  She seemed much more stable and in a lighter doze than any of the previous times.

  He pressed himself close to her. Reaching out to her mind, he called to her gently. "Amara.”

  She didn't respond.

  "Amara, wake up.”

  Her long lashes fluttered, and she stirred, pressing into him, her nose seeking his neck. He forced himself to pull away.

  "Amara.”

  Her eyes opened and a surge of disappointment bounded through him at the white blank of her eyes. She blinked once, twice, and then turned her head to one side and closed her eyes again.

  "Amara. How are you feeling?”

  She remained still and didn't answer, but Malloron knew she could hear him in her mind. Although she hadn't yet spoken to him in this form, she had to be capable of it. She was simply choosing not to.

  He began to purr again, knowing it would soften her. She exhaled a heavy breath and relaxed underneath him, her face still turned away.

  "Tell me you are not in too much pain.”

  No response.

  He growled in dissatisfaction and lowered himself on top of her. He would not allow her to ignore him. She was his and she would have to learn to be an obedient queen regardless of what had happened between them. He wasn't going to punish her for attacking him; she should award him the same leeway.

  He settled on her, pressing her into the bed, and buried his nose again in her neck, breathing her in. He kissed her soft skin slowly, working his way along the top of her shoulder and up her neck. She shivered and a moan escaped her throat.

  "Talk to me, chameleon.”

  She said nothing, and he traced the tip of his tongue around the edge of her ear and then nibbled back down. Her breathing increased slightly and her head turned slightly back toward him. He lowered and closed his mouth over a nipple, and as he sucked hard, his cock jumped at her moan. When the nipple was rock hard, he kissed his way to the other, only to hear her burst into tears. He rose over her and watched her sob for a long moment. It was incredible to him that her every expression drew him in. Even now, while her sobs tore through him, he was mesmerized by the contorted expression on her face. The woman was simply a true beauty—a unique and rare gem like nothing he would ever find anywhere else—and she was his.

  Smothering her with his body, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head with one hand, then pressed her face into his neck, purring and trying to drown her unhappiness. Her sobs faded as she breathed deeply once, twice, and then a third time, experiencing his scent. And she seemed to settle.

  He leaned onto one elbow, kissing just behind her ear and squeezed her breasts before running his hand down her stomach. The scent of her slick reached him, and he moaned at the potent sweetness of it filling his inhale. He ran his hand down to her pussy and her thighs were already parting for him.

  He positioned himself between her legs as his fingers played with her slippery clit. Her legs widened more, and when he glanced up at her, she lay relaxed, her eyes closed, her mouth parted, thick black hair fanned out around her. Gorgeous.

  He guided his cock to her entrance and pressed into her heat, sharp, smooth, and steady. She gasped, arching her back as her legs widened even further. He didn't delay. He slammed in and out of her pussy, groaning at the succulent, delicious tightness of it and marveling at the sight of her underneath him. Just like when he had her bound in the pleasure chamber, the realization came to him again that he had truly missed out on the full experience of her body when he fucked her from behind. Her ass was something special but her stomach, her breasts, and, most importantly, her face… her expressions of ecstasy undid him every time.

  She moaned and writhed under him, fighting his grip on her wrists and
his solid weight on her. She was in turmoil and he knew she needed to take comfort in the restraint he offered—she always had.

  He increased his thrusts, gruff growls escaping him as the pleasure of being inside her began to overwhelm him. She fought wilder, twisting her body and pulling her wrists as she cried out and shuddered, and he fucked her rougher with each moment of resistance, his own excitement at her energy and fire gratified by his every thrust.

  Her climax was just as wild as her fight, and he fucking loved it. He drank in every beautiful inch of her, every breathy sound and mumble, every inhale of her deepening scent as her whole body seized and shuddered, her pussy gushing that sloppy wetness he loved all over him as he continued to pummel her.

  He came in a jagged series of hard thrusts and slammed his knot into her as she relaxed into a limp state. He dropped on top of her, smothering her again, their hot breath panting on each others’ skin.

  As she calmed, Amara pressed her nose into his neck, rolling her hips slightly as she clamped down on his knot. He groaned as the wave of raw pleasure bounded through him, sparking the fading tendrils of his climax.

  He released her wrists and wrapped his arms around her, cuddling her into him as he stretched her wide. She had done well. Her fighting him was a good sign. She hadn't given in.

  As they drifted into a lull, her nose against his neck, she finally spoke, her inner voice almost a whisper, but firm and resolute. "I hate you.”

  He purred again, relief softening his concern. "I know.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  AMARA

  He was everything.

  Everything she could feel, everything she could taste, everything she could smell was King Malloron. He dominated every sense she had left, stamping himself on every part of her, claiming every inch, inside and out.

  He fucked her constantly, but it was different to the other times. He wanted her spread beneath him, her body weighed down by his, her arms restricted by his large hands as he worked her into a glorious, wet, heady-scented frenzy she couldn't escape from. He played an orchestra of sensual pleasure on her body, making her gasp and sigh and moan and plead for more.