by Zoey Ellis
“What relevance does her singing have?” he asked.
“She sings when she is experiencing unpleasant situations she cannot change but wishes she could. Her mood usually lightens afterward.”
Roclan turned to him, frowning. “How do you know that?”
The guard was quiet for a moment. “She has treated my family over the years, General, including family of friends who live in Jynora. She tried to heal my son when he got sick with fever, but he was too young.” The guard shifted on his feet. “She sang at his passing.”
Roclan observed him. “You have a prior connection to this prisoner, and you said nothing.”
The guard swallowed but held his eyes. “Dorei is small, General, and I have established myself in this role. If I were dismissed from this job because I know her, I wouldn’t be able to get any other work that easily. I’ve remained as impartial as I can. Of course, if you wish to dismiss me, I understand.”
The balance between the lives of the people in this territory and the expectations of the Lox was blurred, and Roclan wondered if it were even possible to make it clear cut. If he tried to, he would be causing friction between Lox members who were also part of the community. “Do you believe she killed the general?” he asked the man.
“No.” His answer was immediate and firm. “I don’t know what happened or why she is choosing to claim that she killed him. I can only conclude that she feels she has to. But I am hopeful you will uncover the truth.”
Roclan nodded at him. “She has enough water, so there is no need to approach her cell at all. But… you may monitor if she sings.” He turned toward his carriage, then stopped, curiosity rising in him. “Why didn’t you report my conduct to the palace?”
At that, the guard grinned. “She spent a lot of time with you, General. And she didn’t sing.”
“Welcome, General Roclan.” General Syron’s greeting was open and warm. “I’m pleased you’ve come to visit Jynora.”
Roclan lowered to the chair opposite the bearded, older general in his office. It looked more like a lounge than a place of business. “Thank you, General. I felt it important to visit with the investigation in Dorei.”
General Syron frowned. “I thought that was resolved?”
“Unfortunately not. I’m trying to understand the full circumstances to make sure things are tied up.”
Gen Syron’s smile faded for just a moment, then he leaned back in his chair. “How can I help you?”
“I understand Jynora, Dorei, and the Islands of Ashens are all inter-connected.”
The general nodded. “Yes, the three territories are quite self-contained, and because they are small, it’s easy to travel between them. Of course, Dorei is uniquely positioned to give access to the other southern territories, such as Vamore.”
“So would you say that you worked closely with General Freydon and Commander Torin to organize trade between the three areas?”
The general’s expression closed. “I arranged the trade agreement with General Freydon for Dorei, yes. Not for the Islands of Ashens. With them, it is the same agreement with Commander Torin for as with mainland Ashens.”
Roclan held his gaze, watching him closely. “So if I were to discuss the Islands of Ashens with the commander, he would know about everything that goes on there?”
General Syron’s mouth twisted, and he leaned forward. “Are you intending to take General Freydon’s position in Dorei, Roclan?”
“Yes.”
“Then you must understand that these three territories rely heavily on each other. You will be coming into a structure that already exists, that already works and benefits all of us. You would be wise not to disrupt it.”
Roclan leaned forward, his elbows bracing his knees. “When you say us, do you mean us generals, us the Lox, or us the citizens of these territories? It seems there is a difference.”
The general tensed, his face darkening, but before he could answer, Roclan rose to his feet. “Thank you for your time, General.”
“I’m glad I could help,” the general of Jynora said, though he was clearly displeased with Roclan’s comments. “I hope you will consider what I have said. Of course, I will contact Commander Torin with a personal recommendation for your advancement.”
Roclan growled at him, not bothering to pretend that his words weren’t a threat, and the general snarled back. The violent urge to address this insult with a bout shot into his veins, but that wasn’t the way to deal with this.
He left the base and pushed his agitation away but was unable to avoid the disappointment heavy on his chest. He had come into this situation with defined ideas and expectations about the Lox Empire and its territories, his fellow Alpha brothers, and the people of the Lands, but nothing was as simple as he thought. As he traveled back to Dorei, he recalled Torin’s words. The commander had felt he wasn’t ready to deal with all the responsibilities that came with being a general, and now he saw why. This position required negotiation, and agreements, and diplomacy, and Roclan would rather be blunt, open, and aggressive with difficult and selfish men like General Syron.
But he could think about that another day. He only had two more days until he had to return to Lox Palace, so he needed to act quickly, to free his Omega.
“Where are we going?”
Roclan pulled warm boots onto Nyan’s feet. “Out.” He checked the fit of the tunic he’d dressed her in and then wrapped a cloak around her.
“Out of the cell or out of the base,” she asked, eyeing him carefully.
Roclan straightened, looking at her in the eye. “Out of Dorei.”
The light in her eyes brightened, and the bond flickered in his chest. He unbound her hands and rubbed her small wrists. “How?” she asked.
“You are under my supervision,” he said. “I can do what I want with you.”
She lowered her head. “Yes, you have proven that,” she murmured.
Roclan ignored her. Picking her up and settling her in his arms, he carried her out of the cell.
When he stepped outside the base, Nyan blinked rapidly, shielding her eyes as they got used to the light, then she turned her face to the sky. Roclan came to a halt just outside his carriage and enjoyed the look of pleasure on her face as she inhaled deeply. The sight of her face in the sun stirred a bone-deep satisfaction in him. The heaviness of the bond lifted as Nyan sighed and then relaxed into his chest. It pulsed gently within him, hints of contentment and resignation twinging through.
He climbed into his carriage and settled onto the bench as it moved off.
They didn’t speak as they traveled, Nyan’s eyes were firmly locked on the window watching outside as they passed through Dorei, while Roclan focused on what he felt in the bond.
Each moment, the bond became stronger, until he could feel the shape and weight of it as it pulsed within him. It moved around in the small area of his rib cage in circles, then waves, then zigzags, then slowly as though lethargic.
The most important thing was that he could feel Nyan within it. The more he focused on it and examined it within his chest, the more complex it became, and it was like he almost had full access to her emotions.
A sudden sweeping drop in the bond told him she’d figured out where they were going.
“Why are we at the port?” she said, her mouth tight.
He didn’t answer. She already knew, deep down.
He carried her to the boat, and she remained quiet, her body tense, the bond cool in his chest, and her eyes turned away, but he had expected that. He also hoped her mood adjusted, since it directly inflicted itself on their bond.
When they arrived at the Islands of Ashens, an apprehension trembled through the bond that remained strong as they traveled in the carriage on the other side.
As the carriage reached its destination, a small house set a little way away from the other homes, the bond was practically burning with fear, annoyance, and dread.
“How did you know about this place,” she hissed a
t him, her eyes flashing.
“Does that matter?”
“Yes,” she spat at him.
“Almost everyone has family in all three territories, Nyan,” he said. “Did you think I wouldn’t be able to find out from your current patients who else you treat and where they are?”
Her eyes widened. “You spoke to my patients!”
“Of course.”
The bluster of anger that tore through the bond was startling, and she sharply turned her head away, her jaw hard.
Roclan slowly brushed her chin with his thumb, before turning her head back, marveling at how stunning she was when she was angry.
Her eyes softened, and her bottom lip trembled. “Don’t look at me like that.”
He smiled. “Why not?”
“I can feel it,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “I can feel what you’re feeling now.”
He locked her gorgeous brown eyes “So then you know I am looking forward to looking at this face for many years to come.”
The anger in the bond softened a little and Nyan turned away from him again.
Roclan held her as he climbed out of the carriage and walked toward the house.
Her anxiousness tainted her scent and caused havoc within their bond. “Calm down, Nyan.”
For the first time, Nyan said nothing.
Roclan carried her to the front door and knocked.
A small, round, older woman with black hair answered the door and gasped at the sight of Roclan. She froze and seemed unable to move until she saw Nyan.
Glancing at Roclan, she addressed Nyan. “Are you… well?”
Nyan didn’t say anything, and the longer she stayed quiet, panic rose in the woman’s eyes.
“I am Roclan, the acting General of Dorei,” Roclan said. “I’m not here to harm anyone.”
“Don’t fucking lie!” Nyan snapped, a surge of anger pulsed through the bond in his chest. “You’re here trying to find another to pay for my crime.”
“Nyanna!” the woman said sternly.
The anger simmered to a smoldering resentment. “Sorry, mama,” Nyan mumbled.
Roclan looked at the woman in surprise. “You are Nyan’s mother?”
The woman sighed, her shoulders relaxing. “Yes, I am. Come in, General.”
He followed her into the main living area, but the roof was too low for him, forcing him to bow his head.
“You can put me down now,” Nyan muttered, but he ignored her
Her mother gestured for him to sit, but he shook his head. “I’m here to see the girl. Is she here?”
Nyan’s mother’s face dropped and she gave her daughter a look that Roclan had seen many times, but Nyan’s resignation dominated the bond.
“I will take you to her,” Nyan said, her voice quiet. “But you have to put me down.”
“No.”
His Omega thew him a hard look. “She’s never seen an Alpha before. If you are carrying me like some barbarian, she might think I’m hurt.”
Roclan said nothing, just glared at her, until she huffed out an indignant exhale.
“Do you want to meet her or not?” she asked.
Roclan growled his displeasure, long, deep and loud, but he slowly placed her down. As he straightened, a hint of desire embraced the bond, and he snapped a look at Nyan, but she was already heading to the other side of the room.
Grabbing her arm to keep her close, she led him to a door at the end of a short corridor and then glanced at him before she knocked. “Vi,” she called. “It’s me, Nyan.”
A gasp came from inside the room, and a girl squealed Nyan’s name. When the door flung open, the girl froze at the sight of Roclan.
She looked almost exactly like Nyan, with shaggy, brown hair and bronze skin, but her eyes were lighter in color, and her features were slightly different. Roclan examined her while she stood gaping at him. She wore a fitted tunic with her bare arms and legs exposed and looked about eleven years of age.
“Don’t worry, Vi, this is my friend,” Nyan said. “He’s just come to visit, that’s all.” Although she sounded reassuring, the bond jittered wildly.
Vi turned to Roclan but said nothing, her eyes still wide on him.
“I don’t see any defect,” he said to Nyan.
His Omega shot him an annoyed look before stepping forward and smiling at the girl. “Vi, we’re just going to check your room is safe, all right?”
The girl took a breath and then stepped back to allow them to enter.
Her room was almost bare. Just a bed, a chest for her clothes, and a small table. Nothing to suggest she had any kind of deformity or—
Suddenly Roclan became aware of something strange in the air. It was too… clean. Instinctively, he growled and yanked Nyan to him, lifting her into his arms protectively. “There’s something wrong in here.” The air was unusually absent of any scent and it put him on edge. It wasn’t normal for a lived-in space.
“It’s me.” The young girl, Vi, stepped toward him timidly. “I don’t have any scent.”
Roclan stared at her. “What?”
“She was born with no scent, Roclan.”
Shock left him without words for a moment. “That’s not possible.”
“It’s true. I told you she had a defect, but that isn’t strictly true. She was born differently—she isn’t an Omega or a Beta or an Alpha.”
“Then what the fuck is she?” he demanded.
The girl flinched at his voice, but he was too agitated to care. Everyone relied on scent for several reasons; it communicated many things about an environment, the history of one’s surroundings, identifying people and the potential state of their minds, and if danger lurked out of view. For an individual to have no scent was not just undesirable and disorienting, it was also highly dangerous. The urge to drag Nyan out of the room—out of the house completely—rose sharply.
Nyan threaded her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his jaw. A rumble of satisfaction rose from his chest at her touch, but he kept his eyes on the girl.
“Roclan,” Nyan said quietly. “She is my family, and you’re scaring her.”
A strong sense of calm beamed in his chest from the bond, and he exhaled as he blinked. She was only a little girl. Glancing between them, he forced himself to calm and asked, “Is she your… sister?” He was unwilling to believe that the girl may be her daughter—Nyan had been a virgin when he took her in her Haze.
“She’s my sister’s child.”
“Where is your sister?”
At that, something uncomfortable trembled through the bond. When Roclan glanced at her, tears were already welling in her eyes. “I can’t talk about it in here,” she whispered, brushing them away.
Roclan nodded, turning to the door.
“Are you Nyan’s husband?” the girl suddenly asked, making him pause.
“Yes,” he said immediately.
“No,” Nyan said at the same time.
They glared at each other as the girl giggled. “I’m glad you have a husband now, Nyan,” she said, grinning at her. “He can look after you while you’re treating people.”
“Yes, I can,” Roclan said, pleased. He decided he liked her.
“I don’t need protecting, Vi,” Nyan said, giving them both a disapproving look. “But you stay here, and I’ll back and talk to you soon, all right?”
The girl nodded, her shaggy hair flopping around her head, and went to sit at the table.
Roclan carried Nyan back to the living area where her mother was waiting, watching him closely. She was a little lighter in skin tone than Nyan and the little girl, and her hair was a black not brown, but she had very similar features to Nyan.
He sat on the chair she’d offered him and settled Nyan in his lap. “Tell me everything.”
Nyan took a breath, licking her lips. “Both my sister and I were born Omegas, and we were taken by the Omega cause soon after we turned twelve.”
Roclan inclined his head in understanding. Th
e Omega cause had been taking Omegas at a young age, claiming to be protecting them from Alphas.
Nyan glanced at her mother, and Roclan noticed the older woman’s eyes were closed, her expression painful. He could tell from her mother’s scent that she was a Beta, but if they were her only two children, she would have been childless when they were taken. He rocked Nyan until she continued.
“We spend a lot of time together and trained together until we were eighteen, then we had to go on separate missions.” Nyan’s voice quietened, and Roclan held her tighter as the bond flooded with sorrow. “I hardly saw her most of the time, but I did come across her once in Ashens. I discovered she was pregnant, and it seemed the pregnancy wasn’t planned. I convinced her to move to Hallowcryst with Mama to have the baby, but after I settled her in, I had to report to my superiors. When I returned, I found my sister had died almost immediately after giving birth to a strange child.”
A small sob shuddered in her throat, but she swallowed it down. “She didn’t want a Lox medic to tend to her once Vi was born because she didn’t want her to be taken or killed. She didn’t tell Mama quickly enough, so she bled to death. I arrived too late to help her.” She took a breath, and Roclan continued to rock her, pressing his mouth to the soft skin under her ear, but not saying anything.
“I moved Mama and Vi here because it’s remote. Vi can be safe without alarming anyone,” she said. “When we were given the option to leave the cause, I came here and found work. I’ve been trying to find out more about Gammas and how they can survive in society, but—”
Roclan frowned. “Gammas?”
“They are a dynamic that has no scent,” Nyan’s mother said. Her voice was soft, but her northern drawl was much stronger than Nyan’s.
Roclan shook his head in disbelief. “I’ve never heard of it before.”
“It’s very rare,” Nyan explained. “Almost unheard of in the Eastern Lands.”