by Zoey Ellis
***
Malloron's contrasting behavior continued over the next week. He would climb into her nest in the night and cuddle her, stroke her, purr for her, and do all the things he was supposed to do to settle her and the baby, but for most of the next day he was absent, only visiting her in the afternoon to fuck her, fully clothed, before leaving again.
Amara tried to talk to him but he continued to shut her up and gag her if she didn’t stop talking. He bound her arms; sometimes behind her, sometimes in front of her, sometimes in their nest and other times on one of the benches, and he would always use magic so that he didn't have to release her until after he left the room. He didn't knot her anymore, choosing to mark her with his seed at every opportunity. It was an act she would have normally taken pleasure in, but now it made her feel like she was his property rather than his mate; good enough to mark but not to lock himself to in the way they had previously enjoyed their intimate moments.
He was punishing her—that was what this behavior was, and even though she knew he couldn't keep it up forever, her mood descended lower and lower as the days went on. Each time she was tied to the bench, each time she felt the roughness of his clothes on her skin, and each time he chose not to knot her, it was as though a deep part of her tore a little more. She couldn't even try to figure out his mood because she couldn't detect him properly. There were too many things happening in her body for her to know exactly what he was feeling through the bond, and it was the bond that should be able to tell her his true mood and how she should approach him. But no matter what she tried, he did not listen or allow her to affect or change his behavior in any way. Even in the night when he held her close, it was impossible to try to speak to him. He held her close to his neck, and she had been so desperately craving for his scent all day that she couldn’t risk saying anything that could cause him to leave.
After a few days into the second week, it was impossible for her to bear it any longer. As he fucked her on the floor of the living area, her legs spread, her arms secured around one of the table legs, she began to sob. That deep, raw, animalistic part of her was deeply rejecting everything about this situation. This was not how her Alpha was supposed to be treating her. He was supposed to be looking after her, ensuring the health of her and her child. How could he not feel that? How could he put her at such risk?
She sobbed quietly, trying not to let him see that he had finally broken her. Of all the things he had done in the past, she had never cried. But she had never felt like this. This treatment, on an instinctual level—something that was so basic and at the core of who they were—was so highly unsatisfactory and disrespectful to every part of her that she couldn’t endure it. Unfortunately, he did notice and the rhythm of his cock stopped.
Amara kept her head turned to one side, hoping he wouldn't do anything to make the situation worse. He had never blindfolded her since that first time, and she didn't want him to do it again. He didn't. He remained frozen above her for a long moment and then withdrew.
Amara lay stiff on the floor, waiting to see what he would do next. If she was dealing with the Malloron she had first known, he would try to persuade and negotiate her into the correct behavior. If she was dealing with Malloron who had told her about his childhood, he would want to know why she was upset, but if she was dealing with the cold Malloron who had been present since he took her back from Brecc, she had no idea how he might behave. He may want to punish her further—she just didn't know.
The door to the bedroom closed and silence settled over the room. Amara lifted her head and saw that he had left.
Although she breathed a sigh of relief, she was also disappointed that he hadn't sought to alleviate her distress, and a part of her was disappointed that he had not found his release. She angrily pushed that thought away. He was using her body without caring about her or the baby. His release was the last thing she should be concerned about, and yet, she couldn't deny that on a sexual level, it was something that was important to her.
Realizing that the magical binds had dissipated, Amara got up slowly, elbowing herself to an upright position. At least, he did not punish her for crying.
That night, Malloron did not come.
With each hour that passed, Amara’s mind ran wild with disturbed thoughts and a plethora of emotions hurtled through her. She twisted and turned in her bed as she waited, but he never arrived. By morning, she was completely distraught. She pulled all of the blankets and cushions off the bed, convinced her nest was wrong, and rebuilt it so that all the fabrics with her Alpha’s scent on it was concentrated in one area. Curling on top of that spot was the only way she was able to drift into a light sleep.
When she woke up again, there was a heavy weight on the side of the bed. A dusting of hope settled on her nerves as she peeked out of her nest, but when she saw that it wasn’t Malloron she snarled as viciously as she could.
A woman sat at the end of the bed. Dressed in a lilac robe, her light gray hair was pulled back into one and her eyes were closed, her back straight, and her hands placed in her lap.
Amara watched her carefully, wariness and aggression agitating in her joints. This woman was too close to her nest.
Amara had never seen her before, and anyone who was not familiar to her, shouldn’t even be in the room. But the woman didn't move, she simply remained in the same position for a long time and Amara relaxed a little as she continued to watch her. Maybe she should just wake the woman from whatever she was doing and ask her to leave? And yet, every inch of her compelled her to attack in order to protect her nest. Besides, there was no way that anybody would have entered the room without Malloron's knowledge. Clearly he had sent her.
Amara quickly drew on magic and weaved together a small orb and directed it to hover in front of the woman’s face. “What do you want?” she finally asked, as viciously as she could.
The woman kept her eyes closed and remained motionless, but still answered, her voice smooth and low. “I am King Malloron's healer. He has sent me in to check on you.”
“I don't need you.”
“He feels that you do,” the woman said, matter-of-fact. “He is concerned that you are not acting as you should be and would like to ensure that your pregnancy is progressing as it should.”
“How the fuck would he know?” Amara said, annoyed.
“He doesn't,” the woman pointed out. “That is why I'm here.”
“Well, I don't need you,” Amara said, decidedly. “I need him. Unless you can provide me with him, you will not be able to improve anything here.”
At that, the woman turned to look at her. She was an elderly woman, but other than a few wrinkles and her gray hair, she held her age well. “I suggest you be very careful about suggesting that he is not fulfilling his role as an Alpha,” the healer said, hesitantly. “He's very sensitive about such things.”
Amara almost laughed. “I'm not suggesting anything,” she said. “He does not spend time with me in my nest unless it is the middle of the night, he treats me as though…” Suddenly she realized she was unable to say it out loud. It was fucking embarrassing—humiliating. No Omega who had been trained at the Omega Compound, who had been taught the knowledge of how Alphas had treated Omegas in the past, would feel proud to know that her own Alpha was not any better.
“Your Majesty?” The healer said, awaiting her response.
Amara shook her head. “I have already told him that he is not behaving as he should,” she said. “Clearly he doesn't believe me.” She sighed and fixed her legs underneath her. “I assume you are familiar with Omega pregnancy? Why aren’t you telling him what he should be doing? He will listen to you.”
The healer was looking at her, frowning. “King Malloron does not listen to me at all when it comes to what he should be doing. The only time he listens to me is when I am informing him about you.”
Amara blinked, surprised. “You don’t heal him? I thought you said you were his healer?”
The healer in
clined her head. “I am the royal healer, yes. But King Malloron is an exceptional Talent-crafter. He is able to mix potions, and weave magic to a standard that is beyond most of what anyone has seen in the known Lands.” She smiled at Amara wryly. “If he needs to be healed, he is not going to wait on me to do it.”
Amara nodded thoughtfully, her mind casting back to the scars on his face when she had attacked him. He hadn't healed those, nor asked anyone else to heal them for him. She dispersed the magical orb. “But if he only listens to you when it comes to me,” Amara said, “then why doesn't he listen about what he needs to do for the pregnancy? If he cares, you should be able to tell him what he should be doing.”
The healer gave her a strangely sad smile. “I tell him how you’re doing,” she explained, her voice soft and slow. “I tell him how the babies are doing. But I cannot tell him what is normal between an Alpha and Omega during their private time.” She lifted her shoulders. “I just don’t have knowledge of that.”
“Wait,” Amara said, holding up a palm. She slipped out of the nest, and climbed off the bed to face the woman. “You said babies. Babies, plural. As in, more than one.”
The healer smiled and nodded. “Yes. You are having twins.” She hesitated. “King Malloron did not inform you of this?”
The shock made her body feel weightless, and for the second time in a matter of days, Amara's world was spinning. A firm hand gripped her elbow, and she was led to the edge of the bed.
“Breathed deeply, Your Majesty,” the healer murmured. “Take your time. Take it slow.”
Amara did what she instructed, breathing slowly in through her nose and blowing it out gently. She was going to have twins. The only twins that she knew were the twin Mothers, Freya and Fern. She wasn’t going to have a child, she was going to have children. Fear spiraled inside her chest, and she suddenly felt like retching. She couldn't let Malloron raise her children. His upbringing hadn't been at all great, and if he was rejecting her now as a mate, that meant he would likely enforce his father's opinions onto his own children. She would not have her children growing up to be like Malloron and his father or his grandfather. But there was no way Malloron would listen to that now, her time to persuade him was shrinking day by day. She was truly beginning to wonder if he didn't care about her anymore. The bond was confused by all the other things going on in her body, she had no way of knowing how he truly felt, and that was frustrating. That was one of the main benefits of the bond. She needed to know his intentions so she could make decisions, especially now children were involved. She had once told herself that she would rather die than give Malloron the tenebris, for the sake of the children in the red dungeon, but what about her own children? Could she stay with him knowing that they were at risk of becoming like his father or grandfather?
Amara took another deep breath. For some reason, when it had been one child in her mind, the risk seemed lower, but now it was two, and now Malloron was treating her this way, her doubts weighed heavier on her.
“Calm down,” the healer said soothingly. “I know it is a shock to hear, but it really is a blessing. King Malloron has been wanting twins in his family for a long time.”
Amara looked up sharply. “How do you know?”
The healer suddenly looked uncomfortable. She sat back down on the bed and dragged her eyes away from Amara to the opposite wall. “I checked his sisters’ pregnancies to see whether any of them had conceived twins.”
“And did they?”
“None that I examined.”
Amara was quiet for a moment. “Why was he looking for twins?”
“Twins are known to be powerful in the Talent,” the healer said slowly. “I assume he was looking to bolster the family line with Talent-crafters predisposed to be powerful.”
“Why?”
“Why not?” The healer said, shrugging. “Surely it couldn't hurt for the Visant family line to be more powerful.”
Amara didn't say a word. Nothing she was hearing was giving her any kind of reassurance that her children would be treated any differently from how the Visant kings grow their heirs.
The healer turned to her. “Your Majesty,” the healer began, “I can advise the king that you require his presence, and that he would do well to listen to you about what your needs are. But I cannot guarantee that he will listen to me.”
“If it is regarding the health of his Omega and his children, I don’t see why he shouldn’t,” Amara said sternly.
The healer leaned toward her. “Do you feel your health is at risk?”
Amara frowned at her. “He doesn’t spend time with me in my nest like he is supposed to. Of course I am at risk!”
The healer’s brown eyes searched hers and she nodded slowly and leaned upright.
Amara turned away, huffing at the woman’s stupid question, and sinking into deep turmoil about this new information. Had she made the wrong choice in deciding to try to build something with Malloron? Regardless of his behavior toward her, there were children to consider now. And if his anger was a barrier in building that Alpha/Omega connection between them that she had hoped for, then that wouldn’t mean anything good. She couldn’t allow her children to suffer the same fate that Malloron had, and his father before him, and probably his father before that. It was an ongoing cycle, from generation to generation, she couldn't allow it to continue. But Malloron was the only one who could break it. And if he remained this way toward her, what were her other options?
Her head spun with all the contrasting thoughts and decisions, reminding her that she had barely slept. “I would appreciate it if you would leave me to get some rest,” she said to the healer.
The healer inclined her head and rose.
“And please do not enter my room again without my explicit permission,” Amara said, an edge to her tone. “Not Malloron’s, mine. An Omega’s nest is a private space that should only be for her and her Alpha. You breached that today, and you were fortunate that you were not attacked.”
The healer stared at her, her eyes wide. “I-I-I’m sorry, Your Majesty. Of course… I…”
“These are the kind of things that are important for you to know,” Amara pointed out. “These are the kind of things, that my Alpha should know.” She swallowed as the sobs threatened, causing the back of her throat ache. “Please leave.”
The healer left swiftly and Amara climbed back into her nest. The bitterness that rose in the back of her throat made her want to scream; it was a wretched decision to make. But if she had to choose between her children and Malloron, she had to choose her children. The idea of being without him sent her into a downward spiral of despair, but Malloron had had his chance.
CHAPTER SEVEN
MALLORON
Malloron was still waiting to see the benefits of the soul-bond. It was a constant fucking distraction he did not need, one that made him driven by urges that he could do without, at least at this time.
Of course, he had known that he would feel Amara within him, but the vibrancy with which the bond existed, surprised him, and not in a pleasant way. He felt the various changes in her mood deeply, in a more connected sense than the constant hum of the tenebris. The hum itself seemed to have faded into the background, because the bond was at the forefront. It distracted him constantly.
The strange thing was, his Omega was with him so intimately, connected to him so deeply, and yet so far out of reach. It pissed him off that he had to act so cold and distant toward her simply because of the power she held over him. Whenever there were tears in her eyes, it was like daggers stabbing his own eyes out. He hated seeing her upset and absolutely despised seeing and hearing her cry. But each time he had to remind himself of the reason why he was doing it. There was a lot more at risk now; it wasn't just about him, it was also about his throne and his people. And his children.
He had been searching for twins in his family since he read in his grandfather’s research that twins with Visant blood would be particularly powerful. He had sus
pected one of his sisters would have borne a set, and it turned out Sonila had. But they had remained out of his awareness and reach, then left the Western Lands under the protection of Emperor Drocco. So he was elated when he heard that Amara was pregnant with twins, that he would have powerful children of his own.
The only problem was, he couldn’t tell if his rejection of her was too strict. There was no possible way that he could stay away from her for an entire day, morning to night. Furthermore, it was extremely difficult for him not to spend the night touching and holding her the way that he needed to. It was as though he would die if he didn't, and he wasn't sure it was just because of his own sanity. During the night, Amara was almost as amenable as she had been during her Haze. She kissed his chest and rubbed herself against him, scenting him and sighing into him with such relief, that every single time he wondered if it was worth staying away from her for so long. The pleasure of having her in his arms, tucking her into him, was so complete that he battled with himself every single morning when he left their nest. And there was no mistake about it that it was their nest. She had built a place for him specifically, rolled a blanket next to the pillow for his neck the way he usually slept and prodded him into place whenever she woke to find that he was next to her. That small detail made every single part of him ache that he had to force himself to reject her at all.
But now was not the time for him to be in such conflict about Amara. He had her now, there was no question of whether she was his or not—it had happened. They soul-bonded, they were mates, and nothing could get in the way. So it should not be the case that he was still conflicted about her so deeply.