Page 168 of May the Wolf Die
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EZRA
“She has escaped?” Alaroth asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His expression and posture gave nothing away as he sat at Nivardi’s desk, his bloodshot eyes the only hint something was amiss.
I had expected rage, retaliation,something, but this was even scarier. If the king didn’t lash out immediately at hearing bad news, it usually meant he was planning something truly horrific.
When I had shifted back after double checking in my wolf form that Marlowe was indeed completely gone from the keep, I’d held onto my anger towards the fae king, only to be hit by a splitting, near-debilitating headache once my fur had receded.
I’d been suspecting something was wrong with me for a while, but I couldn’t believe my wolf had figured it out before my human side had—he’d done something to my brain. This whole time, I had been following him unquestioningly, believing he really cared about me, my sister, and the people of both our worlds.
But now, little memories of our time together were coming to the surface. Memories of me disagreeing him, disobeying him, fighting against him, and him attacking me until I gave up.
How much of my respect for him was from honest interactions and not just manipulations guided through pain?
My parents… Marlowe…
Moons, what had I done?
“And what do you plan on doing about it?” he asked. Dawn was just breaking, its pink light warming the skin of the omega he’d plucked from the keep’s brothel who currently sat naked on his lap.
Something had snapped in him in regards to Marlowe yesterday. I should have paid more attention to the dinner last night, but I’d been distracted by the new bond with Canna and had mostly been watching her. I’d caught hints of the king’s ire, but he can be moody and I didn’t want to cloud the happiness I felt with my omega with whatever had him staring daggers at my sister.
His show of love and devotion was gone, and he was back to screwing whoever he wanted. I would almost be proud of Marlowe for not succumbing to him, if I wasn’t terrified for her. If he got her back, there was no telling how he would punish her.
She must have found her way to her pack, or be on her way towards them by now. So findinghermeant finding them, and I had no doubt the king would kill them all instantly once they were brought before him.
I couldn’t let that happen, but with Canna being held hostage, I couldn’t fight against him, either. Not yet, at least. I needed to plan, but whenever I plotted against the king, my head felt like it had taken an axe. My wolf seemed to be free of his influence, but wolves weren’t good strategists.
I was a shifter, I responded to dominance. Those instincts could overwrite anything.
I needed a leader who wasn’t the king.
“I will bring her back,” I said. “We’re twins, we’re connected. I can always find my way to her.”
That wasn’t entirely true, but the king didn’t know that.
The muscle in his jaw ticked, but he remained silent and still, maintaining direct eye contact. The omega on his lap trembled, her perfume laced with fear, and finally the king refocused his attention on her. He licked up the column of her neck, and she whimpered softly, arching her back.
“Ah,” he sighed. “So sweet, so submissive. So yielding to my touch. This is what it means to be an omega. And yet yoursister,” he spat, the word full of vitriol, “is spiteful, conniving, and obstinate. How is it that she is the ‘omega of omegas’ when perfect little specimens like this one exist, hm?”
He dove his hand between her thighs and she gasped as his fingers entered her. I looked out the window, unsure exactly what this little show was supposed to prove. I’d told him Marlowe wasn’t like that, and he’d assured me he was up to the challenge.
If I wanted a weak-willed, simpering whore, I clearly have my pick of them.
Not that I wanted him to be up to the challenge anymore. My thoughts were finally clearing, and the cracks hidden beneath his smooth facade were showing. I was disgusted with myself, desperate to find a way to free Marlowe and Canna from his clutches. Even if I died in the process.
Hell,especiallyif I died in the process. The unspeakable acts I’d committed in this king’s name were worth a death sentence.
I’d killed my own parents, for Moons’ sake. I may have been bitter and resentful for how my mom had handled my alpha designation and how my dad left us, but it didn’t mean they’d deserved to die. Especially if Marlowe was right about Dad, that he’d disappeared to keep us protected from Alaroth.
A knock on the door didn’t stop the king as he finger banged the omega, and Nivardi stepped in, ignoring the scene completely. “The troops are ready, Your Majesty.”
Alaroth didn’t stop until the omega came with a release of heavily scented slick and panting gasps. He withdrew his fingers, licking them carefully. “How did you escape my visits before, little one? You’re much too delicious to be for common alpha use like the other omegas here.” He shot me a cruel look, believing he had delivered some savage blow against Canna.
A piercing headache kept me from imagining all the ways I wanted to bash his skull in, but it was worth the pain to just picture a few. Starting with the large paperweight on the desk…
“Tell the madam that you are to be sequestered from further work until I summon you to the castle. I would very much like to finish what we started once the Commander fixes his mistakes, and my beloved begins her punishment.”
