Omega's Capture (Omegas of Pandora Book 2)

by Lillian Sable

  He cast her a narrow look before stalking out of the room. She heard the door slam shut behind him and the characteristic sound of a lock sliding into place.

  That didn’t stop her from leaping up after him to the door and trying the handle. The slick knob did not so much as budge under her hand. It was indeed locked tight. She kicked the door in frustration, regretting the move immediately as pain rocketed through her toes.

  Food had spilled from her plate in the mad dash across the room, but she ignored the bits of meat and pastry scattered across the floor. He could come back and clean it up or it could rot away right there for all that she cared.

  Ianthe completed a circle around the room, feeling very much like an animal in a pretentious cage. The curtains hid steel walls that had likely been covered to change the impenetrable character of the room. There were no windows she realized as she tipped back each heavy panel to make absolutely sure, becoming more despondent as she moved around the room. This place appeared to be impenetrable.

  Her only exit was through the locked door.

  The door was old-fashioned, like everything else in the room, secured with swinging hinges and a metal deadbolt. She wondered if Legion kept it that way for the sake of security, she might have had some chance of hacking into the more standard electric panel that controlled most entrances in the city.

  But no, she decided, the room was kept this way as a reflection of its owner. He wore those impractical suits made of multiple pieces that had to be specially designed for him and decorated this room with hand made antiques as a display of his power — power over other people’s time and the power that came with extreme wealth.

  This was the man who had trapped her in an unbreakable bond.

  The thought made her want to vomit. Letting the comforter drop from her shoulders, Ianthe stumbled towards the bathroom. It had no door separating it from the rest of the room, but she had to grip the archway as a wave of nausea coiled up her throat.

  She made it the toilet with just enough time to expel the contents of her stomach into the basin. Her belly continued to clench until she was coughing up phlegm and spittle as nothing solid remained in her belly. When the gagging finally ceased, she leaned heavily on the sink to rinse her mouth out with the crystal clear water running from the tap.

  One gulp of the cool water was almost enough to make her forget that she was trapped here against her will. She had never tasted any liquid not tainted with rust and sediment. This water didn’t leave an oily aftertaste on her lips after she was done slurping it down.

  She drank until her belly sloshed, full of the delicious liquid. It was difficult not to feel bad about the clean water and food that she had filled herself with while her brother and sister remained stuck in the slums, likely sick with worry about her. She had to find some way to contact them even if it meant begging for it from the mate that she despised.

  Mate.

  Even that word sent a tremor of revulsion rolling through her. She had never wanted to be mated, never desired to be the property of someone who wanted to own her. And yet, here she was.

  Ianthe could still feel him, coiled like a serpent deep around her heart and an itchy awareness in the back of her skull. He was a part of her now whether she liked it or not. She was very aware of the fact that her body was no longer her own, that he had squirmed into her mind and infected her thoughts.

  She should feel relief at the gift of being left alone, even for this short time, but part of her yearned for his return. It was a desperate and hated part of her, but it remained nonetheless.

  The bond hummed at her, reminding her that her mate was a powerful Alpha who would care for her and protect her — soothing lies that made her wish she could claw the mark out of her neck with her fingernails.

  Supporting her still weak body with hands that gripped the edge of the sink, Ianthe stared hard at her reflection in the mirror. The surface was perfectly reflective, as if she stared through a completely clear piece of glass to where her identical twin matched her movements on the other side.

  With probing fingers, she pulled at the bandage that covered the bend of her shoulder. Catching the edge of the gauze between her fingers, she ripped it away and ignored the twinge of pain as the medical tape pulled at her skin.

  The wound left by Legion’s claiming did not appear to have healed much since the day he had torn into her. Looking at the raw flesh for too long caused fizzles of nausea to burn the back of her throat but she intended to leave it uncovered. The bloody and vicious injury represented a constant reminder to anyone she encountered that she was being abused.

  This was not the small, orderly mark made during a traditional claiming ceremony. It was clear from the size and shape of it that she had fought. He had held her down and forced this one her against her will. It was unlikely that anyone she encountered in this place would care, but she wanted the reminder constantly visible, if just for herself, so that she would never forget.

  Her mate was a monster.

  Chapter Four

  Legion strode down the hallway in a cloud of angry Alpha pheromones. He did not appreciate being forced to leave his freshly bonded mate so quickly after the girl had regained consciousness. The claiming mark was permanent, but its effects would increase with time and the bond needed proximity to fully settle. The more time that she spent in his presence, the more quickly that the bond would establish itself completely.

  Even now, he could feel how much she yearned for escape. He would sense it even if he had not heard her mad scramble for the door immediately after it shut behind him.

  There was no escape from him, she would figure that out eventually. At some point she would be allowed to roam the compound, but he wanted to keep her confined to their now shared rooms until her mental state returned to something closer to normal.

  This compound was remote, accessible solely via specially programmed skycar and distant from the Astropolis, though still inside the same habitation zone. Unless his mate was desperate enough to climb the walls and jump off, there was no escape from him save death.

  And death would be the only way for her to ever escape him.

  Although he enjoyed her little flashes of temper more than he should have. He wondered how long it would take for her to realize how much of the emotion she felt was not her own. The claiming bond had tied them together in a way that was behind conscious awareness. He was the dominant force in their union. It was his anger that roiled through her, carried by the bond.

  And he was very angry with her.

  Legion deeply resented how close she had come to being claimed by another. He had stood at the podium and watched as the first signs of estrous had come over her. Everyone in the room could smell the Omega slick that gushed from between her thighs and soaked the fabric of the awful work uniform she had been forced to wear.

  Had he not been aware of her from the moment that she came through the door, if someone had been even slightly faster than he was, his Omega would have been lost to him. Another Alpha would have claimed her first.

  Of course, Legion would have killed the offender and taken her anyway, but then he would have had a tainted mate to deal with. Secondary bonds were rarely as strong as the first for Omegas. There were dozens of ways that it could have all gone wrong.

  And he blamed her for that.

  Which meant he would have to punish her. Nothing too terrible, but the sooner she learned that discipline was the inevitable result of placing herself in danger, the better off they would both be. He only had to ensure that the glittering edge of rage threatening to overtake his senses was kept at bay.

  And the quivering Undersecretary waiting for him via secure terminal became a perfect target for that rage.

  “I assume that you are bothering me because you have news that my next payment will be arriving shortly.” Legion‘s tone was clipped, although a storm brewed in his expression. “Or should I have you tossed over the walls of the Astropolis for daring to contact
me here without leave?”

  The Undersecretary was unaware of the location of his compound, as the two met only in Legion’s offices within the Astropolis. But the man knew how to reach him, regardless of his location.

  Undersecretary Barnard clasped his hands behind his back, clearly hoping to hid that they trembled. “I apologize for the intrusion but I thought it best to inform you of this news immediately.”

  Legion glanced to where Adrian stood against the wall, out of view of the vidscreen. He appeared casual but his hands rested on the holstered weapons at his sides. It would only take the smallest signal from him for his second-in-command to dispose of the presumptuous Undersecretary. With a sigh, Legion acknowledged to himself that it would probably be best to hear what the official had to say before sending his second-in-command to murder him.

  “And what news would that be?”

  “The Crown has requested a slight delay before making payment.” Barnard stood a little straighter as he spoke the unwelcome words, obviously attempting to make himself appear larger. “The necessary approvals have not been obtained. It has taken a significant amount of manpower to complete the investigation against Tintori.”

  Legion glared, his patience limited at the best of times. “You’ve tried and convicted the man of murder without bothering to wait for an actual body of the victim to surface. What further investigation could possibly be needed?”

  Barnard cleared his throat. “Emilio Tintori was a known enemy of the crown, and Prince Castor in particular. Officially, the investigation is complete which is why his execution has already been scheduled. Unofficially…” The Undersecretary trailed off and cast a furtive glance around the room behind him as if he thought conspirators would pop out from behind the wall paneling. “Unofficially, we suspect that Tintori did not act on his own. Even now, Central Command’s best interrogators are questioning him for information. It cannot get out publicly that possible co-conspirators remain at large. The investigation has consumed the attention of every ranking official in the government.”

  And Legion could not be less concerned with the internal workings of government. “I fail to understand what King Rolan’s inability to maintain his own house has to do with me. Perhaps your potential successor would have better luck in ensuring my business interests.”

  The threat was clear. Barnard cleared his throat, the movement born of pure nerves that he was manfully failing to conceal. “The King has taken a particular interest in this case. He remains convinced that a greater force than one man is bent on overthrowing him.”

  “And that has nothing to do with me.”

  Everyone understood King Rolan to be a doddering old fool who cared for little more than impregnating the Omegas in his personal harem and funding his luxurious lifestyle with the city’s coffers. It was Legion, and other Alphas like him, who truly controlled Pandora. King Rolan allowed it all as long as he could indulge freely in his baser desires. The man wasn’t quite a puppet, but was just as ineffectual.

  “Prince Castor’s death has changed him in ways that are difficult to explain. You simply must see it for yourself.” The Undersecretary glanced away and when he looked back, he startled at the sight of a silent Adrian who had sidled up behind Legion. “Perhaps I should arrange a meeting for you at the palace so that you may resolve this situation.”

  “I have you to resolve the situation.” Legion glared as a low growl trickled from the corner of his mouth. But when he spoke, his voice filled with deathly calm. “If I have to waste my time groveling at the palace, what use do I have for you, Undersecretary?”

  Barnard seemed to remember for a moment that he was also an Alpha. “Perhaps the King would be interested in a detailed account of your activities. You would have much to gain in the death of the reformer prince.”

  Legion lunged toward the screen, filling it with his glaring face. The Undersecretary instinctively backed away from his own terminal even though miles separated them. It took every bit of self-control Legion had not to find the man immediately and dispose of him. Adrian hand descended on his shoulder, murmuring that murdering the Undersecretary would be unwise as it would only serve to delay their payment and Legion calmed.

  “Consider this your only warning.” Legion spoke through clenched teeth that ground together with his irritation. “Fail me again and it will be the last mistake that you ever make.”

  He terminated the connection without waiting for a response.

  “The Undersecretary has grown bold.” Adrian backed up a step, moving out of reach of his still obviously surly boss. “There may be more chaos inside of the palace than even we assumed.”

  Legion let out a gruff sound of irritation. “I don’t understand why there’s all this fuss over one dead prince.”

  “Castor was the King’s favorite. And it’s true what the quivering Undersecretary said about his habit toward reformation. He had been planning some anti-corruption campaign before falling victim to that well-timed explosion. There are many in the Astropolis who prefer him dead.”

  “Including me,” Legion mused, glaring at the now blank terminal screen. “At least according to Barnard.”

  “They have their killer.” Adrian appeared unconcerned about the potential accusation, although his eyes narrowed in thought. “Although the whole thing stinks of palace intrigue. I assume that if you had a hand in the prince’s untimely immolation, I would have been informed.”

  “My intrigue is your‘s as well, Adrian. And it always will be.” Legion smirked, his ire finally cooled now that the annoyance of Barnard’s presence had gone. “If I had wanted Prince Castor dead, I would have torn him apart with my bare hands and dumped his body in the slums. Not wasted a bunch of time concocting a plot to fake an explosion that has clearly fooled no one.”

  Adrian raised an eyebrow, clearly unconcerned with his boss’s methods. “Do you believe that Tintori acted alone?”

  “I’m not convinced that Tintori acted at all,” Legion replied with a careless shrug. He went to the sideboard and picked up the decanter before pouring two healthy draughts of distilled brandywine. “The Crown needs a scapegoat, and he serves as a convenient one. Prince Castor had many enemies, the least of which are standing in this room.”

  Accepting the offered glass, Adrian reclined in a nearby chair. “And what will you plan to do if the King uses this circus to delay his payment indefinitely?”

  Legion’s expression darkened. “I plan to show him exactly how long the Astropolis can survive with contaminated air.”

  That was the purpose of building this compound as far from the center of Pandora as possible without venturing in the Forbidden Zone. Air and water were recycled then re-purified on a closed loop, making his home almost entirely self-sustaining.

  Pandora had always existed in the delicate balance between those who remained the public face of power and others who profited off of the deep corruption that pervaded every aspect of society. Legion preferred to conduct his business in the shadows, without the attention of prying eyes. He did not create the decay that festered in the city, but he would profit from it because the moment he faltered another would rise up to take his place.

  There were only two type of people in Pandora, those who stepped on the masses to elevate their position and those who lived under the heel of the more powerful.

  Legion had chosen who he wanted to be a long time ago.

  Adrian sipped his drink, his face expressionless. “And you wonder why some call you a terrorist.”

  “I have no interest in inspiring terror. There are no credits in that.” He swirled his glass, allowing the dark liquid to catch in the light. “But rulers can be overthrown and new ones installed, it makes little difference to a man like me. Rolan needs to remember that.”

  “That sounds very much like treason.”

  “If I began to actively plot against the crown, rest assured that you will be the first to know.”

  The tablet at his side made a low alarm
sound and Adrian glanced down at it. “Your Omega has tried the lock so many times that she’s jammed the mechanism in the door of your rooms. I’ll have to send a technician down to repair it. I wonder if she thinks you’ve forgotten about her.”

  Legion’s smile was feral. He could feel the gentle flutters of her consciousness like a feather moving down his spine. She had been locked in their rooms more to see how she would react to the forced confinement than because she had any hope of escape.

  He would greatly enjoy pushing her into showing him every emotion and reaction that she was capable of producing. Eventually, he would know her better than she knew herself. He was always aware of her and always would be. Her being was a constant presence in the back of his mind, never to be forgotten.

  He also hadn’t forgotten that he owed her a punishment.

  Chapter Five

  Ianthe’s mind had finally cleared enough to ask the right questions. She stared up at the ceiling while Legion held her down and feasted between her legs, as she tried to focus one anything but the pleasure he forced on her.

  Her anger had morphed into something more resigned. She had figured out that he was more likely to respond to requests delivered sweetly, even as she wished him to suffer every terrible thing she could imagine.

  Even though her body still craved him. Badly.

  “You planned all of this, didn’t you?” She framed it as a question, but they both already knew the answer.

  Legion bit down hard on the inside of her thigh in response. She let out an involuntary shriek that prompted a small smile to tip the corner of his mouth. “What of it?”

  She expected a rising tide of anger, but the emotion was muted by the pleasure betraying her senses. He had brought her just to the precipice of orgasm and then kept her there, until the desperation was too much to bear.

  “You can’t keep me here forever,” she gasped, as one large finger probed at her slick-drenched folds. Estrous had ended days ago but there every encounter still eventually devolved into a sexual assault on her body. “Eventually, I’ll find a way to escape.”