“Let them wait,” he murmured against my neck, teeth grazing the wound. His hands mapped my nipples that he had marked hours before, his fingers relearning my body with focused intent. Despite the soreness, despite the insanity of it all, my treacherous body responded. My omega wolf recognized her chosen alpha, growing wet and ready even through the ache of overuse.
He took me again, slower than our heat-driven frenzy but no less intense. His cock grew in length and girth inside my pussy with every thrust, though it seemed impossible.
This time I watched his face throughout, memorizing the way control fractured when I clenched around him. The way his eyes flashed gold when I raked nails down his back, adding fresh marks to the ones already there. The Lycan King fell apart in my arms, and the power of it intoxicated more than wine. When he finally stilled above me, breathing ragged, I felt the mate bond pulse between us like a living thing.
We lay tangled in the aftermath, neither speaking. The reality of what we’d done, what we’d become, settled over us like morning fog. Outside these walls, the territory waited for their king. Inside, we were just two people who’d been ambushed by our needs, trying to make sense of a bond neither of us had chosen.
“The council expects us within the hour,” Damon said eventually, carefully withdrawing from my body. The loss of contact made the bond ache, already demanding closeness that seemed impossible given our circumstances.
“What will you tell them?” I asked, pulling sheets up to cover myself as the intimacy evaporated. How did you explain to a room full of traditional alphas that their new king had abandoned his own coronation to mate an omega in heat?
He stood, magnificently naked and unconcerned about it, moving around the room with the confidence of someone who’d never doubted his place in the world. “The truth. That you’re my mate.” He said it simply, like it explained everything. Like it excused the scandal we’d created.
How do we explain the inexplicable? I watched him gather clothes with practiced efficiency, pulling items from drawers and closets with purpose. From somewhere, he produced a dress that fit too well to be coincidence. Dark blue, high-necked to cover the worst of the marks, expensive fabric that whispered money and status. When had he arranged for this? Or did the Lycan King’s suite simply come stocked with emergency omega clothing?
“Shower,” he ordered, pointing to the ensuite bathroom. “We have twenty minutes.”
The bathroom was bigger than my bedroom at home, all marble and gold fixtures that screamed wealth. I stood under hot water that stung every bite mark and scratch, washing away the physical evidence even as his scent remained embedded in my skin. No amount of soap would erase what we’d become to each other. The bond hummed constantly now, awareness of him even when walls separated us.
When I emerged, he was already dressed in a fresh suit, looking every inch the Lycan King except for the satisfaction radiating from him. He’d claimed an omega in heat, marked her, bred herthoroughly. His wolf had to be preening with accomplishment. He handed me the dress without comment, then turned to give me privacy I hadn’t expected.
The fabric slipped over my head like water, so fine it barely whispered against sensitive skin. Everything hurt in ways that made movement difficult, but I forced myself to appear normal. To move like a woman who hadn’t spent the night being thoroughly claimed by the most powerful alpha in the territory. He’d even provided appropriate underwear and shoes that fit perfectly. Everything calculated to present the right image.
“Ready?” he asked, turning back to assess his work. His gaze lingered on my neck where the claiming bite showed above the dress’s neckline. No amount of fabric could hide that mark, and from his expression, he didn’t want it hidden.
The walk to council chambers felt like approaching execution. My legs shook with each step, muscles protesting the movement after the night’s activities. Damon kept a hand at my lower back, ostensibly supporting me but the possessiveness in the gesture was unmistakable.
“Follow my lead. Speak only when addressed,” Damon instructed as we approached massive oak doors carved with the territory’s seal.
“I know protocol,” I shot back, pride stinging at being treated like some ignorant omega who’d never attended a political function.
He paused, looking at me properly for the first time since we’d left the bed. “Knowing protocol and surviving the council aredifferent things. They’re going to test you. Test us. Show any weakness and they’ll tear you apart.”
But I didn’t know how to be a king’s mate. The thought hit as guards opened the doors, revealing the circular chamber beyond. Nine alphas sat at a curved table, all in formal robes that belonged in a museum. My eyes tracked across them, recognizing faces from my father’s political discussions.
The council chamber doors opened further to reveal not just the elders but my own father among them, his face cycling through shock, betrayal, and calculation as he saw my marked neck beside the new Lycan King. Magnus Thornback sat in his customary position, the omega spokesperson badge gleaming on his formal robes. For twenty years he’d held that seat, the lone omega voice among alphas. Now his daughter stood before him, freshly mated to the very king he served.
“Councilors,” Damon announced, his voice filling the chamber with absolute authority. “I apologize for my abrupt disappearance last night. But as you might have guessed, the reasons are very obvious.”
“I present my mate, Rhea Thorback.”
My father’s face went carefully blank, the politician’s mask sliding into place even as I saw his hands tremble slightly on the table. Twenty years of careful neutrality, destroyed by his daughter’s heat.
“This is highly irregular,” Hampton began, his disapproval evident in every word. The northern territories he controlled were the most traditional, where omegas still needed alpha permission to work outside the home.
“Irregular but not illegal,” Damon countered smoothly. “She went into heat at the ceremony. As unmated alphas, we were compatible. Nature took its course.”
“Nature.” Yates practically sneered the word. “Is that what we’re calling abandoning your coronation to rut with the spokesperson’s daughter?” The crude term made several councilors shift uncomfortably, but Yates pressed on. “The territory needed to see strength. Stability. Instead, they saw their new king carried away by his knot.”
I felt Damon tense beside me, his hand tightening on my back. The insult to me clearly meant less than the challenge to his judgment. “Careful, Councilor Yates. You’re speaking about my mate.”
“A mate you claimed without council approval,” Hampton added, sensing blood in the water. “Without proper contracts or negotiations. Her father sits on this very council. The conflict of interest alone…”
“Will be managed appropriately,” my father spoke for the first time, his voice steady despite everything. “I’ll recuse myself from any votes regarding the Lycan King’s household.”
“Magnus,” another councilor said with false sympathy. “Surely you must have opinions about your daughter’s... situation.”
I watched my father navigate the trap with twenty years of political experience. “My daughter is an adult who experienced an imperative we are all very familiar with and sympathetic to. The Lycan King responded appropriately to prevent potential violence from other unmated alphas. The claiming may have been unexpected, but it was lawful.”
