Page 16 of Dragon's Captive

I sob in frustration, in humiliation, in rage at my biology's betrayal that's reduced me to this mindless, needy creature. Is this what I've been fighting against all these years? This complete surrender of self to sensation? This devastating vulnerability?

Through tear-blurred vision, I see the door open. My heat-fogged brain registers the massive silhouette blocking the entrance, the golden eyes luminous in the half-light of dawn. Kairyx. My blood recognizes him before my conscious mind does, a rush of fresh wetness soaking the sheets beneath me in shameful welcome.

His nostrils flare as he draws the concentrated omega pheromones deep into his lungs. The effect on him is immediate and visible—his pupils contract to vertical slits, his breathing deepens, and the scales along his exposed skin seem to shift with intensified color.

"Right on schedule," he rumbles, his voice deeper than I've heard it before, roughened by what I recognize with horror as the onset of rut—the alpha response to omega heat pheromones.

My body reacts to his voice alone, another wave of need crashing through me with enough force to arch my back offthe bed. The whimper that escapes me is entirely outside my control, omega biology responding to alpha presence with hardwired submission.

"Don't," I manage, though whether I'm pleading with him or my own body is unclear even to me. "Please don't."

He approaches with controlled hunger, every movement deliberate, predatory. I should be scrambling away, putting distance between us, but instead I find myself frozen, caught between terror and desperate biological need.

"Your heat scent is...exceptional," he says, voice dropping lower still as he draws nearer. "Complex. Potent. Worth the decade of suppression."

As he walks, his form shifts subtly, scales spreading further across his chest in rippling patterns of obsidian black. His eyes glow brighter, the golden irises seeming to produce their own light with reptilian focus. The transformation isn't complete—he's not taking full dragon form—but he's dropping the more human aspects he's maintained until now, allowing his true nature to emerge as his control erodes.

It should terrify me more than it does. It would, if not for the heat frying my higher brain functions, reducing me to instinct and sensation. Even through my fear, my omega biology recognizes its matched alpha with unwelcome enthusiasm. Another flood of wetness betrays my body's eagerness, the scent filling the chamber with unmistakable invitation.

With a grace that seems impossible for someone his size, Kairyx sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping significantly beneath his weight. He makes no move to touch me yet, simply watches as another wave of heat wracks my frame, observing my humiliating desperation with those unnerving dragon's eyes.

"Fighting only prolongs the suffering," he says, voice almost gentle despite its inhuman rumble. "Surrender to what your body needs, and the pain transforms to pleasure."

"I would rather die," I hiss through clenched teeth, clinging to defiance even as my treacherous body arches toward him of its own accord.

His smile is slow, predatory, revealing teeth too sharp to be human. "That's not one of your options, little omega."

His clothing falls away with deliberate movements, revealing more of the scaled torso I glimpsed earlier. The obsidian scales cover his shoulders and spine completely, spreading across parts of his chest and arms in mesmerizing patterns that catch the growing dawn light. His skin radiates a furnace-like warmth that I can feel even without direct contact, the natural elevated temperature of dragon physiology calling to my fever-wracked body like a promise of relief.

But it's what happens next that shatters my remaining mental defenses.

His arousal emerges from a scaled sheath between his legs—not one cock but two, twin shafts emerging side by side, both ridged along their considerable length and radiating intense heat. Both fully erect and intimidatingly large, demanding satisfaction in a way that cuts through even my heat-haze with a jolt of genuine terror.

"This is impossible," I gasp, fear momentarily overriding need as I scramble back against the headboard, putting precious inches between us. "Humans aren't built for... that."

The movement only serves to spread my scent more effectively throughout the chamber, sending another visible ripple through his scales as he inhales deeply. His smile is predatory, confident, utterly certain of the outcome.

"Your body will adapt," he promises darkly, scales shifting across his shoulders as his control slips further. "Omegas alwaysdo. You're designed for this—to accommodate alpha claiming regardless of form or size."

My rational mind knows he's technically correct—omega physiology includes biological adaptability specifically evolved for cross-species mating. But academic knowledge does nothing to alleviate the very real fear of taking something so clearly inhuman inside my body.

The scent of my fear mingles with the heavy musk of my arousal, creating a pheromone combination that seems to trigger something primal in Kairyx. He inhales again, deeply, deliberately, and when he exhales, small flames flicker between his teeth—literal fire escaping his mouth as his draconic nature responds to the potent chemical signals.

The sight should send me into fresh panic. Instead, some deeply buried part of my omega hindbrain recognizes the display as a sign of alpha arousal, responding with another rush of wetness that soaks the already ruined sheets beneath me. My body's message is unmistakable, regardless of my mind's rejection: I am ready for claiming, for breeding, for whatever this alpha demands of me.

"Please," I whisper, the word torn from somewhere beyond conscious thought. I'm not even sure what I'm begging for anymore—for him to stop, to leave me to my misery? Or for him to end this torment, to fulfill what my body is screaming for with increasing desperation?

"Look at me," he commands, voice resonating with alpha authority that bypasses rational thought, connecting directly to the primal omega responses I've suppressed for so long.

I obey before conscious choice can intervene, my gaze locking with his golden one. What I see there sends a shudder through me—hunger, yes, the predatory focus of alpha on omega—but also something else, something almost like... appreciation? Recognition?

"I will claim you," he states, the words neither question nor request but simple fact. "I will breed you. Your body knows this is inevitable." One massive hand reaches toward me, talons stopping just short of touching my flushed skin. "But I would prefer your cooperation to your terror."

The words make no sense through the heat-haze. Why would a Prime alpha care about my cooperation? Why would my terror matter to a creature evolutionarily designed to conquer and claim?

I don't have time to puzzle through this contradiction before another wave of heat crashes over me, the most intense yet. It tears a sob from my throat, my back arching off the bed as my empty channel clenches painfully around nothing, demanding fullness with biological imperative that overrides all reason.

"Please," I say again, the word hardly recognizable through the whimper that accompanies it. "Make it stop."

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