Primal Possession: A dark Omegaverse Romance (Alphas of Sandor Book 1) Page 7

  Despite being absolutely exhausted, Arius slept fitfully. It was as if, every time he closed his eyes, he was forced to watch once again as Deimos straddled Saskia, his bare buttocks half bulging out from his pants, both her wrists captured in his huge paw as he pinned her to the couch.

  And every time, the white-hot lava of jealous rage poured over Arius anew, as if he were experiencing it for the first time.

  Why didn’t you kill him?

  He hadn’t answered Saskia’s question because he couldn’t. He didn’t know what had stopped him from pulling the trigger.

  Maybe it was because his mate had been lying beneath his uncle at the time and he didn’t want to risk hurting her by accident. On the other hand, he still could have done it once Deimos had struggled clumsily to his feet and was tucking his cock back into his pants.

  Maybe it was the blood tie. As insane as Deimos was, he was still the last living member of Arius’s family.

  Or maybe it was simply because Arius didn’t want to come to power via such a cold act of murder, no matter how justifiable. It would be difficult enough to break free from his uncle’s reputation as a cruel and heartless ruler as it was; the last thing he needed was rumors of how he’d ascended the throne by putting a bullet in the previous king’s brain to spread up and down the country.

  Which brought him to the more immediate problem of how to quash any budding resistance in Sandor before it had the chance to grow.

  Over the last twenty or so years, Deimos had apparently made it his mission to make life for the Betas as difficult as possible. Constant tax increases now kept most of them on the very brink of poverty. The curfew, a relatively new law, served only to remind them every single day how low they were on the totem pole of Sandorian society. Deimos had banned alcohol—not that most of them would be able to afford it—ostensibly to help reduce crime, but Arius was certain it was purely out of spite. Several additional draconian decrees had all combined over the years to make the Betas hungry, angry and powerless.

  But there was power in numbers, and the lowest class made up some seventy percent of society. Arius wondered whether they were aware of that.

  Saskia moaned softly in her sleep and he looked over at her to make sure she hadn’t awoken. She rolled over, a lock of chestnut hair partly obscuring her face, but her breathing remained steady and he was certain she was still asleep.

  A wave of desire rolled through his groin and he clenched his fists, biting back the urge to enter her again. His cock already ached from fucking her, yet it was hard and seeping once more.

  Arius was beginning to understand why some Alphas spent a small fortune on suppressors—medication that lessened the effects of rut and estrus enough for people to get on with their lives despite being in heat.

  It was hard to form a coherent thought when the scent hit.

  He drank in the sight of her, the moonlight from the chink in the curtains making her pale skin glow alabaster. The sheet was wrapped around her hip but otherwise, she was naked. His eyes traveled along the curve of her waist, up to her small, pert breasts. The skin where her neck met her shoulder was particularly soft and he couldn’t wait to make his mark there, giving her the scar, which would bind her to him forever.

  Compared to Alpha women, who were generally dripping with jewelry, her fingers, neck, ears and wrists seemed curiously naked without any adornment whatsoever…

  Arius’s breath caught in his throat as he realized what it was that had seemed so strange about her body.

  Her left forearm was soft, slender and completely bare. No jewelry.

  No tattoo.

  Stunned, he leaned in to take a closer look. His heart sank as a second glance confirmed it. There was definitely no symbol anywhere on her smooth skin to confirm her status as an Omega in Sandorian society.

  But how could that be? All Omegas went to the Facility when they turned eighteen. All Omegas were tattooed the day they arrived. There was no doubt that Saskia was an Omega—a person’s scent never lied. And he had found her at the Facility.

  Blinking, falling back on the pillows, he crossed his arms beneath his head and tried to remember every detail of the previous evening. Overcome with the rut, his mind had been foggy but he knew she had been wearing a brown Beta coat and had looked bedraggled and dirty compared to the other Omegas, who had been primped and prettied up for inspection in their snowy white tunics.

  Tried to escape…

  Brought her in just five minutes ago…

  It couldn’t be.

  What was it she’d said in the car?

  What about my family?

  Surely Deimos’s suspicion couldn’t possibly be true. No Omegas would dare defy the law and simply hide, would they? No Betas would be suicidal enough to assist them, either.

  His mind reeling with the implications if his theory was correct, Arius slipped out of bed, threw on some clothes and crept out just as the first fingers of dawn were lightening the crack in the curtains.

  Cerus had taken over guard duty, and Arius told him to summon a second guard to join him. Saskia was not to come out, nor was anybody allowed in, on pain of death.

  Cerus nodded his assent. He had served the royal family for decades and was a loyal—albeit quiet—servant.

  Arius stalked through the complex of luxurious apartments until he came to Evander’s door. Knocking twice, he entered without waiting for a reply, stalking straight through to his friend’s bedroom.

  Evander bolted upright, rubbing his eyes. “Gods, what are you doing here?”

  “We need to talk.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Early. Or late, depending on how you look at it. Got any coffee?”

  A few minutes later, Evander had tugged on some clothes and the machine was burbling away. Arius was pacing back and forth in front of the huge bay windows.

  “If you have any ideas as to what to do about my uncle, I’m all ears,” he said, pushing his hair back from his forehead. “Things have become… a little more urgent.”

  “I heard about what he did—or tried to do—to your little Omega,” Evander said, filling two mugs with steaming brew and handing one to his friend. “I’m amazed you didn’t kill him.”

  “I was sorely tempted. In fact, I still might.” I may no longer have a choice.

  “But didn’t that already happen before I last saw you? Why the sudden urgency now? Why burst in here at stupid a.m.?”

  Evander was one of the few people Arius trusted completely. Taking a grateful swallow of strong, black coffee, he told his best friend about Saskia’s lack of an Omega tattoo and the potential implications of that. “I can only hope Deimos didn’t notice,” he finished grimly.

  “Gods,” Evander said, pushing his fingers through his thick, russet hair. “Gods.”

  “I know. I have to protect her but I can’t be around her all the time.”

  “She broke the law!” Evander said. “If your theory is correct, she’s been hiding from the law—from your authority—for years. And her family helped! You cannot let that go without consequences.”

  “I have no choice,” Arius said. “She’s my match; the one I’ve been waiting for. She may already be pregnant with my first heir. There can be no punishment; not for her, and not for her family. She’d never forgive me.”

  “But—”

  “You saw my parents!” Arius rounded on him. “My mother loathed my father, and he liked her even less. They barely had a civil word for one another. Once I was born, they both took suppressants for the rest of their lives and avoided each other as much as possible. I don’t want it to be like that with Saskia. I don’t want to put our children through that.” Not to mention his lingering suspicion that the strong medication both his parents had taken for years solely to avoid wanting each other had contributed greatly to—if not directly caused—their early deaths. Suppressants were meant to be taken in small doses and were approved for short-term use only.

  Evander slumped down
in his seat. “Gods,” he said again.

  “I have no choice. This must be covered up.”

  “How?”

  “She needs to be tattooed immediately. Then I will claim her in public as my mate.”

  “Are you absolutely certain? She deceived you! Would you really want to share your life with such a woman?”

  Arius hadn’t even considered that. “Yes,” he said brusquely, even as he wondered whether he meant it.

  “What about the staff at the Facility?”

  “We’ll have to get one of them in to tattoo her. Bribe them, if necessary.”

  “And if they don’t keep quiet?”

  Arius sighed. “You’re right. We’ll have to threaten them… and be prepared to follow through. But I’m optimistic. Imagine the embarrassment and scandal if word ever got out that they missed an Omega. It would be in their best interest to hush it up.”

  Evander rubbed his chin, obviously deep in thought. Arius drained his coffee and set the mug on a nearby table.

  “You don’t suppose…” Evander began.

  “What?” Arius snarled, when his friend didn’t finish the sentence.

  “That there might be more? What if Saskia isn’t the only one?”

  The thought had occurred to Arius but he needed to focus on one problem at a time. If Deimos discovered the truth, he would have no qualms about making an example of Saskia’s family, not to mention he’d have the best reason to turn Sandor upside down, potentially causing even more chaos. “We’ll have to cross that bridge when we come to it. First things first. You need to head down to the Facility and get me a tattooist.”

  It had all happened so fast, Saskia barely had time to process it. After crying herself out in secret for as long as she’d dared stay in the bathroom, she’d slipped into bed beside Arius, putting as much space between them as possible, and eventually fallen asleep.

  The next thing she knew he was shaking her, urging her to get up and dressed. Her protests that she had nothing to wear were met with an impatient gesture toward the armchair, where someone—presumably a servant—had laid out a tight-fitting, mint green tank top and short black skirt. While nowhere near as threadbare or comfortable as the yoga pants and oversized sweater she usually wore at home, they were still not clothes fit for a royal Alpha’s mate—not to be worn in public, anyway. But if he wasn’t taking her anywhere, why was he demanding that she get dressed?

  Sensing a hint of danger on top of the urgency Arius was displaying, she decided to comply, all the while wondering what was happening.

  Only once she was dressed did he take her upper arm, steer her firmly to the lounge, and order her to sit.

  “What’s going on?” she asked as soon as she sank into the plush upholstery. “What’s the matter?”

  His flinty gaze fixed firmly on hers, he took her left hand surprisingly gently, caressing it briefly with his thumb before yanking it toward him and giving her an accusatory glare.

  Saskia glanced down at her outstretched left forearm and, in that horrifying instant, the last groggy remnants of sleep vanished. She was suddenly wide awake.

  He knows.

  Fuck.

  “You have a whole lot of explaining to do,” he growled, and the ill-concealed fury in his tone made her stomach lurch with dread. A wave of panic-induced nausea washed over her and she took a deep breath, trying desperately to remain calm.

  “I-I know,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

  “You didn’t escape from the Facility, did you? You never went there in the first place!”

  Her eyes filled with tears and she blinked them back furiously as she shook her head.

  “Why? Why would you do that to your family? Why would you put them in such grave danger? You know the penalty is death!”

  Hearing her worst fear being confirmed in his commanding, growly voice was too much for her and the tears spilled over her cheeks in a flood she didn’t even attempt to stem.

  Oh, gods, what have I done?

  “Please,” she managed in between sobs, “p-please don’t hurt them. I’m b-begging you. I’ll do anything. You can lock me in here and use me forever but please don’t p-punish them for my selfishness.”

  There was a long pause. He was still gripping her hand, her arm still outstretched, her bare, unmarked skin all the evidence he needed. She stared at it through eyes blurry with tears, unable to look at him, to see the anger she had no doubt caused.

  “Sire,” someone said from the doorway. Saskia hadn’t even heard it open. She glanced up to see a guard who looked older than Tavos, with pale blond hair. “The… er… person from the Facility is here.”

  “Good. Show them in. Then I want you to make sure nobody else enters this apartment until we’re done.”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you, Cerus.”

  Saskia’s mind was racing as Arius let go of her hand and moved toward the doorway. She found herself clenching her trembling knees so hard, her knuckles turned white. Who was coming? What was going to happen to her? Surely she wouldn’t be taken back to the Facility. She was no longer a virgin; no Alpha would want her. Closing her eyes, she was unable to suppress a moan as her family’s faces danced across her mind, one after another. Her mother, her father, her little sister… Oh gods, what would happen to them now?

  “Saskia.”

  Arius’s deep voice barely penetrated her fog-induced panic and she shook her head mutely, more tears spilling from her tightly shut eyes.

  “Saskia. Look at me.”

  She couldn’t do it, didn’t want to see the judgment in his molten iron gaze, didn’t want to know why he’d summoned someone from the Facility. As she shook her head again, she could feel the tears flying from her cheeks.

  Huge, warm hands cupped her face and she was engulfed in Arius’s scent. “Breathe,” he said softly. “Calm down. Everything will be all right.”

  Somehow his tenderness was harder to bear than his anger. Surely he was lulling her into a false sense of security? “Please,” she whispered, her voice ragged. “Don’t hurt my family. My parents… my sister… they’ve done nothing wrong. I made them hide me. They didn’t have a choice. I’ll do anything. Please—”

  His lips came down on hers in a firm, commanding kiss, cutting off her pleas. “Hush,” he said sternly. “I will ensure your family’s safety but in order for me to be able to do that, you need to cooperate.”

  She opened her eyes and looked at him then, desperate to see whether he was telling the truth. His expression was unreadable. “You promise?”

  “We need to act fast. Obviously your lack of a tattoo is what gave you away. We need to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

  Saskia noticed the stout woman in a Beta uniform standing beside Arius. She was holding a briefcase and looking very self-important.

  “Who’s that?”

  “This is Margot, from the Facility. She will be tattooing you.”

  “What? No—”

  “Do you want to save your family, or not?” he snarled, obviously close to losing his patience.

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then sit still and be quiet. Margot, have you been adequately briefed?”

  The woman nodded so vigorously that a curl escaped her bun. “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “Then please go ahead.”

  Margot glanced around the room. “Actually, it would be easier if she were to lay her arm flat on a hard surface. Like a table.”

  Arius didn’t hesitate. He tugged Saskia to her feet, dragged her over to the table and cleared the surface with a few deft, sure movements.

  Saskia watched Margot remove a terrifying-looking device from her suitcase and began to shake. “Arius,” she whispered.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m scared. I hate needles.”

  To her astonishment, he drew her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll be right here,” he said. “You know we have to do this.”

  S
he nodded, deliberately breathing in deeply, allowing his scent to permeate her very being. She wanted so badly for him to purr but didn’t dare ask.

  “Hey.” He tilted her face up with a fingertip under her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “I’ll help you get through it.”

  “How?”

  “You’ll see.” Taking a seat in one of the chairs beside the table, he tugged her down until she was sitting in his lap. “Lay your arm out on the table,” he instructed.

  Still trembling, knowing she had no choice, she did as she was told, exposing the sensitive underside of her left forearm. Margot was busily removing items from her briefcase. “Will it hurt?” Saskia whispered, trying to ignore the woman in her distinctive Facility uniform. It was a dumb question, she knew, and instead of giving her a straightforward answer, Arius settled her in his lap, parting his knees so her own legs were slightly spread. The sudden whisper of air felt cool on her bare, slick sex.

  “Close your eyes and focus on me,” he murmured. “My scent, my touch…”

  His left hand clamped down on her arm, pinning it immovably to the hard, polished wood surface of the table, while his right slid over her breast, giving it a brief, possessive squeeze before sliding down further and delving beneath her short skirt.

  “Arius,” she whispered in protest, feeling her face heat as the thought of being fondled in front of this strange woman filled her with humiliation.

  “Just focus on me.” His voice had an edge of steel and she was reminded again how powerless she was—not just against the physical reaction he invoked in her, but in the face of his status as the future king of Sandor.

  “This will be cold,” Margot said matter-of-factly before spraying what Saskia assumed—hoped—to be disinfectant on her arm and wiping it down. The woman was behaving as if nothing untoward was going on.

  Her cheeks flaming, Saskia flinched as Arius’s fingertips found the apex of her thighs and began to stroke her so lightly, she thought she might be imagining it.

  “Don’t move a muscle,” he growled.

  The tattoo gun began to whir loudly and Saskia opened her eyes, ripped out of the sensual moment by a renewed wave of panic. Forcing herself to breathe, she watched as Margot leaned forward and gripped her arm.