Omega's Capture (Omegas of Pandora Book 2)

by Lillian Sable

  The conflict in her mind was making her physically ill.

  “Should I feel lucky that you’re the one he stuck me with.”

  “Mind that tongue, girlie. I may put up with the disrespect, but the master sure won’t. He’ll beat that attitude right out of you.”

  The warning killed the angry words on her tongue. Naomi was right about one thing, it would do her no good to argue.

  “You’d best get a move on,” Naomi said as they reached the door. “Legion will be back soon. He does not like to be kept waiting.”

  Whatever else she was going to say died in Ianthe’s throat as Naomi left her there. She had no idea what instructions Legion had given the woman, but Naomi clearly intended to keep his secrets. Whatever they were.

  She had no allies here.

  Chapter Seven

  “She’s willful for an Omega.”

  Legion regarded his second-in-command for a moment before responding. “She won’t be for long.”

  “Omega or willful?” Adrian shrugged into his jacket as they rose from the conference table. “If you’ll allow the impertinence, something tells me that the usual techniques won’t serve you with this one.”

  Legion’s voice was dangerously low, not quite a growl. “That is impertinent.”

  “Forgive me, sir. I only mean that this one is somewhat different. It surprised me that you would leave your newly bonded mate alone for this long.”

  “She isn’t alone,” Legion snapped. “Naomi is with her.”

  “That old battle-axe? Is this some torture you’ve devised for the girl?”

  That brought a chuckle to his lips as the tension between them eased. “Unfortunately, I was given little choice.”

  They had just completed a closed meeting with other powerful Alphas in the city. It was clear that something dangerous was afoot in the government. Legion was not the only one who had been refused payment for services provided to the crown. Unrest was brewing and it made them all distinctly uncomfortable.

  Legion only welcomed chaos when he was able to profit from it.

  Adrian picked up on his boss’s sudden shift in mood. “I was surprised to hear of the bombings in the farming sector.”

  “Indeed.” Bombings was one word for it. Hundreds had been killed in an explosion that destroyed an entire field of hydroponic produce.

  “It certainly contributes to the idea that Tintori had co-conspirators. I’m surprised they haven’t delayed his execution until the investigation has been completed.”

  “Unless his contributions to the investigation are undesirable.”

  Legion did not consider himself a conspiracy theorist, but something very strange was happening in the city. There were always those who sought to undo the achieved balance within the government, with powerful Alphas the true power behind a failing crown. Too have this many attacks in such a short period of time could not be a coincidence.

  Adrian raised an eyebrow. “You suspect a plot.”

  “There is always a plot, it’s simply a question of who is involved.”

  There were always small factions engaged in terrorism, a minor but inescapable problem in a place with this much imbalance in power. But these most recent attacks, particularly the assassination of Prince Castor, represented something else entirely. It was too targeted, with too much intent to disrupt the status quo.

  “And I assume you have a plan.”

  “I always do.” Although he had to admit to himself that they were quickly entering uncharted territory. The current political structure had been in place since before his birth and, at least in his memory, it had never been under threat in the way that it seemed to be now.

  Legion held no loyalty to the Crown, few did. But he recognized the benefit that King Rolan provided. The man had always turned a blind eye to the corruption pervading the city and in was in those dark corners that men like him profited.

  Two skycars awaited them at the landing pad, one to return him to the compound and the other for Adrian.

  “Do you have additional orders?” Adrian asked, as he opened the door of his skycar.

  “Continue to engage your contacts in the lower levels. Whatever this newest sickness is, I can only assume it’s rooted there.

  Adrian made a rude sound. “You know how much I hate the slums.”

  “You’ll hate it more if it’s the only place you can afford to live. Or would you prefer the work camps?”

  “You’re speaking of the Undersecretary’s ill-advised remarks.” Adrian sighed. “Do you think he poses a true threat to us?”

  “Not if he’s smart. That said, he is a bureaucrat through and through. And you can never trust government types to think more than a few steps ahead.”

  “So you’re saying to trust no one.”

  “By this point, I hope saying it isn’t necessary.”

  “Understood.” Adrian glared at the rapidly setting sun, as if it personally offended him. “Don’t you have a mate to get back to.”

  “I do.” He could sense her on his end of the bond, even at this distance. She was all simmering anger and intense longing. And he had kept her waiting for long enough.

  Legion entered the room that smelled strongly of his Omega, even though he did not see her. His gaze strayed to the bed where pillows and blankets had been crafted into very specific shapes. A smile briefly touched his lips. It had been some time since he had seen an Omega’s nest firsthand.

  The rest of the room was in shambles, items ripped off of the dresser and cast to the floor. The small table next to the bed had been overturned and one of the lamps rested on the floor, tilted to its side. Curtains had been torn from the walls in places and sagged low in others. The only thing left untouched in the room was the food tray, as if the girl couldn’t quite bring herself to waste it.

  And his mate was nowhere to be seen.

  “Come out, little one. If I have to find you, you won’t like what I do.”

  Ianthe crept from behind the wall that separated the sleeping area from the bathroom. Her hands trembled but the look on her face was defiant.

  He regarded her silently for a long moment, relishing the way that she squirmed under his direct attention. “Apologize for the state of this room.”

  “I’m sorry.” The words were clearly unwilling as each was spoken through clenched teeth. Her ability to resist him was limited, but her tone still left much to be desired.

  Obedience was high on his list of things to address with his new mate. And he was very much looking forward to it.

  Legion took a step forward into the room and she responded by skirting along the wall in an attempt to keep some distance between them.

  The animal part of him wanted to chase her down and force submission, but the more logical part enjoyed teasing her. It would be that much sweeter when he inevitably took her again.

  “Naomi tells me you’ve been restless. What have you done with your day, aside from destroying the room?”

  She seemed surprised by the question and briefly searched his face before looking away. “What is there to do? You’ve locked me inside this prison in the sky.”

  He immediately corrected her. “You’ve spent your entire life trapped in a prison. All that’s changed is who has jailed you. Or did you consider your life in the slums one that was full of freedom?”

  “That’s different.”

  “Is it? There are some subtle differences between coercion and constraint, but the result is the same. You can see the walls that keep you here but they are no different from the ones that kept you in the slums, proverbially speaking. The course of your life has always been entirely outside of your control. You were no more free when you first stepped foot inside Eros House than you are right now.”

  Eyes the color of melting chocolate rose to focus on his face, mixed emotions swirling in their depths. “You don’t understand anything about my life.”

  “I understand everything about you.”

  Her jaw dropped the
smallest measure, obviously taken aback at the vehemence of his tone. “You don’t know me.”

  “Ianthe Ban Savrin, 20 years old, born in MidSector 17 but now a permanent resident of UnderSector 49.” Each word was clipped and rote, as if he had spent time memorizing them. “Both parents are deceased and extended family is limited, but two siblings reside with her, an older sister and a younger brother. The sister, Circe Ban Savrin, is old enough for a work classification but has been designated as unemployable in the service sectors due to a physical deformity. The brother is still young enough to attend compulsory education programs. Should I go on?”

  “Those are just facts,” Ianthe insisted, crossing her arms over her chest. “You probably pulled that off of the CommNet. It’s public information.”

  “I also know that you dreamed of attending the Academy, but had to quit when your parents were killed. What was it that you wanted to be, a lecturer?”

  “A researcher,” she said on a hoarse whisper. “How can you possibly know that?”

  “I have my methods.” Legion shrugged out of his jacket and gently laid it across the dresser, never taking his gaze off the shivering girl in front of him. “I’ve seen that shitty cafeteria where you worked and the smog-infested hovel that your family has called home. Not personally, of course, seeing as I rarely step foot in the slums even on pain of death. But close enough.”

  She tried to glare at him but her face kept shifting as she obviously fought off tears. “What, did you have me followed?”

  “Yes.”

  He said it casually and yet an obvious shudder ran through her. Legion watched her closely and waited. His patience where she was concerned was near infinite and he would keep pushing buttons until he got the response that he wanted.

  She was his. And he had all the time in the world.

  Silent tears tracked down her cheeks as Ianthe seemed to draw into herself. “Why?”

  He approached slowly and gathered her into his arms, rewarding her with a soft purr when she did not attempt to fight him off. “You are my mate.”

  “Not at the beginning,” she argued. “Not when this all started.”

  “Incorrect.” His head cock to the side as his gaze roved over her. “You’ve been mine from the beginning. You just did not know it.”

  “This isn’t what I want.”

  “Very few people get what they want. What makes you think that you would be the exception?”

  She stared up at him with overly large eyes that still shone with unshed tears. “Will you ever let me leave this place?”

  “Perhaps.” A wisp of hair had fallen across her forehead and he smoothed it back. His touch was soft, but firm, making it clear that he could be gentle when the mood struck him but she was his to do with as he pleased. “Things will become easier, once you’re settled. Once you’ve accepted that this is now the way your life works, there are likely many things that I will allow.”

  “I don’t know anything about you?” She whispered. “How can you expect me to just accept this?”

  “You will with time.”

  His tone was assured that it made her want to throw something at him.

  Her expression altered, eyes narrowing. “I want a terminal. I have to speak to my family.”

  Legion considered throwing his mate down and mating her until her mood changed into something more pleasing. It would be difficult for her to say anything annoying with a throat full of his seed.

  But ultimately that would do nothing to alter her prickly temperament. No, there were better ways to influence her than force. She had only come back fully to her senses in the last few days. The girl was more malleable now than she would ever be. And punishment would always remain as an option for later.

  “You make so many demands,” he murmured, stroking a finger down her cheek. Her eyes narrowed, but she did not pull away. “Have you considered offering me something in return?”

  Her body stiffened although she was clever enough not to pull away. “What do you want?”

  “Clean up this room. Then get dressed for dinner.”

  Chapter Eight

  Ianthe rearranged the pillows on the bed for the dozenth time. She couldn’t quite get them to feel right, or perhaps it was her jangled nerves that kept her from concentrating on anything.

  She had expected Legion to fall on her like a ravening monster, the moment that he stepped through the door. On some level, she recognized that she had deliberately provoked him by trashing her room, hoping for the exact result. More proof that he was the monster that she thought him to be.

  That he had remained calm confused her, which just made her dislike him more. She understood that everything the man did was some form of manipulation, he had made that abundantly clear. Every word that she spoke was just more ammunition that he gathered to use against her.

  He had left the door unlocked behind him after his exhortation to clean the room and dress for dinner. Clearly, he was leaving it up to her to seek him out after she had done what he asked. But she was running out of things to do. There was no more reason to delay.

  The room seemed too quiet, the silence closing in on her like a physical weight.

  Perhaps that was another part of his manipulation, isolate her so completely that she became desperate for any sort of companionship, even his.

  She almost preferred it when he just mated her, without all the talking. His poisoned words spun through her head, confusing her in ways that she wasn’t prepared for.

  When she had thrown open the doors of the large closet, a room she had previously ignored, clothing for every occasion and season exploded off of the racks. These were nothing like the plain work uniforms that she was used to and she had to resist the urge to run her hands over the fabric and gauzy lace.

  This bounty was a trick.

  One dress was turned out on the rack so it sat above the others. Ianthe grabbed it off of the rack and held it up to her body. Without even bothering to try it on, she knew that it would be a perfect fit.

  It was possible that Legion had brought other women here before and that his preferences meant they were all of similar size. But something told her that all of this had been placed there just for her. And it wasn’t a stretch to assume that Legion would have no difficulty finding out her measurements.

  I understand everything about you.

  The dress had dropped from her numb fingers to the floor and it had taken several minutes before she could bear to pick it up again. It was only fear of what he would do if she wasn’t properly dressed when she went to dinner that made her pull the dress over her head.

  In any other situation, she would have felt more than lovely. The dress hugged her curves and felt far finer on her skin than any other textile she had ever encountered.

  It was tempting to tear every bit of clothing in that closet to shreds but she couldn’t bear to let such finery be destroyed. She had made a mess of the room out of anger, but nothing was actually damaged. Everything in the slums was reused and recycled, over utilized until it practically disintegrated to the touch. She couldn’t stomach the thought of destroying anything with this much value. It would be horrifically wasteful.

  The dress was a bright red and floor-length, making it difficult for her to take anything larger than a half-step while wearing it. The bodice was relatively modest, the cut classic and refined, but the back dipped low enough to expose the hollow at the base of her spine. Thin straps cut into her shoulders and seemed only a sharp movement from snapping completely.

  Ianthe had not recognized herself when she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror mounted on the wall. Save for the stricken expression on her face, she looked nothing like a girl who had been ripped from the slums.

  She looked expensive.

  Or like an offering to placate mercurial gods — all unwitting beauty and corrupted virtue.

  Her anger had mostly fled in the face of a creeping despair. Legion would be expecting her soon. She could feel
him through the bond, his will edging around the boundaries of her thoughts. It felt like she was being consumed from the inside out.

  He was going to eat her alive.

  He was waiting for her in the courtyard that made up the center of the compound. Tiny lights hung from posts along the pathway, creating an illusion in the dark that they hung from midair. Her mind was too consumed by other thoughts to appreciate any beauty in the scene.

  A strange sound startled her, like buzzing that seemed to come from everywhere at once.

  “Crickets,” Legion murmured, stepping from the shadows and onto the path. “I’ve had them introduced here. The sounds they make create an ambiance that I appreciate.”

  To her, the noise sounded like high-pitched squeaking and wasn’t at all pleasant. “If you say so.”

  His expression did not change as he took measured steps closer. His face gave nothing away, particularly as it was cast half in shadow. Ianthe felt frozen in place as he slowly approached, but each breath she took became more difficult than the last.

  When he reached her side, Ianthe’s breath caught completely in her throat. But he made no move to touch her even when less than an arm-length separated them.

  He stared at her with unnerving intensity as the silence stretched between them, broken only by the squeak of those damnable bugs. She wished he would just do something instead of staring at her that way.

  “Dinner is served.” Naomi’s voice carried on the wind from the direction of the kitchen.

  Legion glanced away, momentarily distracted, and she was finally able to breathe again. When he turned back to her, his face had returned to the carefully neutral mask. Whatever emotion simmered underneath the surface, it was being very carefully hidden.

  “That’s a lovely dress you’re wearing. It’s one of my favorites.” He gave her an appreciative once-over, eyes moving down the fitted lines of the dress before returning to her face. He took her arm and turned them down the pathway which led to an outdoor dining area surrounded by glowlights.