Crave To Capture

by Zoey Ellis

  “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 h
er, 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 brea
the, 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.