Page 39 of Dragon's Captive

"Breeding success with a human," he remarks during a lull, voice carrying the distinctive rasp of draconic vocal cords forced to produce human speech. Every syllable drips with disdain as his red-gold gaze lingers on my abdomen. "One wonders if proper claiming procedures were observed. The Council has strict protocols regarding territory boundary omegas."

The temperature in the hall spikes instantly. Kairyx's scales darken to that light-absorbing black I've come to recognize as the prelude to violence. Behind us, the dragons of his personal guard shift subtly into more alert positions, clawed hands moving closer to concealed weapons.

"My claiming followed all necessary requirements," Kairyx responds, his voice dangerously soft. "The formal registration was completed within the permitted grace period."

Vorthrax's mouth curves into what might generously be called a smile, if smiles contained only teeth and malice. "Indeed? How fortunate timing, given the omega was found mere kilometers from the disputed boundary." His gaze shifts to me, those burning eyes assessing me like merchandise. "And such an unusual specimen—chemically suppressed for years, according to the reports. Almost as if she deliberately concealed her nature to avoid proper registration."

I realize with growing dread what he's doing—creating a narrative where I, as an unregistered omega, deliberately violated Conquest law. Under such circumstances, my initial claiming could be invalidated, rendering me unclaimed and subject to new possession.

"The omega's previous deception has been addressed," Kairyx states, one hand moving to rest possessively on the back of my neck, directly over the claiming bite. "Her successful pregnancy proves compatibility with my bloodline. The Council recognizes successful breeding as validation of claiming rights."

"True," Vorthrax concedes with false graciousness. "But one wonders if such a... rebellious specimen might produce offspring with undesirable traits. Resistance tendencies could be genetic, after all." He leans forward, those terrible eyes fixed on me with predatory assessment. "Perhaps she would benefit from stricter claiming protocols. My breeding facilities have excellent results with initially resistant omegas."

The threat couldn't be clearer if he'd stated it outright. If his challenge succeeds, I wouldn't simply be transferred to a new master—I'd be sent to breeding facilities. The stuff of nightmares for any unclaimed omega, where multiple alphas use you in rotation, where children are removed immediately after birth,where omegas are reduced to nothing but reproduction vessels maintained by chemical inducements.

Kairyx's hand tightens on my neck, not painfully but with unmistakable possessiveness. "Your concern is noted but unnecessary," he responds, voice carrying the low rumble that precedes draconic flame. "My claim is valid and recognized by territorial law. And my omega—" he emphasizes the possessive with deliberate intensity "—requires no additional protocols beyond those I already provide."

The remainder of the dinner passes in excruciating tension, conversation returning to superficially neutral topics while undercurrents of threat eddy beneath each word. By the time we're finally permitted to withdraw, my neck and shoulders ache from maintaining perfect posture, my jaw tight from forcing appropriate expressions.

Kairyx escorts me back to our chambers—no longer mine but ours, a subtle but significant change that occurred so gradually I barely noticed it happening. As soon as the doors close behind us, his careful restraint shatters. Heat floods the room as his scales ripple with barely contained fury.

"He has no right," he snarls, pacing with the caged energy of a predator denied its kill. "No right to question my claim, to look at you with those calculating eyes, to imply—" He cuts himself off, smoke curling from his nostrils with each agitated breath.

"Can he really challenge your claim?" I ask, sinking onto the edge of the bed as exhaustion and fear catch up with me all at once.

"He can try." The words emerge as barely more than a growl. "He's already filed formal inquiry with the Draconic Council. The proceedings will begin within days."

"And if he succeeds?"

Kairyx stops his pacing, turning to me with golden eyes narrowed to glowing slits. "He won't."

Before I can respond, he's on me, his mouth claiming mine with bruising intensity that steals my breath. This isn't the careful consideration he's shown since learning of my pregnancy, not the measured passion we've developed in recent weeks. This is pure alpha possession, primal and unstoppable as natural disaster.

I should resist. Should maintain some boundary, some dignity in the face of being treated as territory to be marked. Instead, I find myself responding with equal fervor, omega instincts recognizing the security of a powerful alpha's claim in the face of external threat.

“You are mine,” he growls against my lips, clawed hands making quick work of the formal attire I'd been so carefully dressed in hours before. "No one takes what belongs to me."

The claiming that follows contains none of the tenderness we've discovered together. His dual lengths drive into me with possessive fervor that borders on punishment, each thrust a statement of ownership that leaves me gasping. His hands grip my hips hard enough to bruise, claws pricking skin without quite breaking it, the heat of his scales burning against my flesh.

"Mine," he repeats, the word a litany against my skin as his mouth moves to the claiming bite at my neck. His teeth find the silvery scar, reopening it with deliberate pressure that sends pain and pleasure spiraling through my system in equal measure. I feel blood beading along the punctures, immediately soothed by his tongue as he laps at the renewed mark. "Mine. Only mine."

The dual sensations of pain at my neck and pleasure between my thighs short-circuit coherent thought. I cling to his scaled shoulders, nails digging in with desperate strength that would injure human skin but merely leaves faint marks on draconic hide. When his knots begin to swell, locking us together in biological claim older than civilization, I surrender to itcompletely—not from heat, not from biological imperative, but from the terrible knowledge that of all the monsters in this new world, I've somehow come to prefer this one.

As we lie joined in the aftermath, his wings partially extended to cover us both in living shelter, I voice the fear I can no longer contain. "What happens if he wins?"

Kairyx's arms tighten around me, scales still radiating heat that should be uncomfortable but has become strangely comforting. "He won't," he repeats, voice dropped to that register that vibrates through my bones. "But if the Council rules in his favor, there are three possible resolutions: administrative judgment, omega choice declaration, or blood challenge."

"What do those mean?" I ask, though I suspect I already know.

"Administrative judgment would process the claim through bureaucratic channels. It favors his technical argument about boundary disputes." His hand moves to my abdomen in proprietary caress. "Omega choice declaration requires you to publicly accept my claim of your own will—or reject it."

The implications hang between us, weighted with all the complexities of our relationship. Could I publicly declare willing acceptance of what began as capture and forced claiming? The very idea feels like betrayal of every principle I once held sacred.

"And blood challenge?" I ask, though the name itself reveals its nature.

"Combat," he confirms, voice grim. "To submission, not death. But with dragons of our size and power, the distinction becomes academic."

Horror floods me at the thought of Kairyx fighting the larger, more brutal Vorthrax. Not fear for my fate if he loses—though that terrifies me too—but genuine concern for him. The realization stuns me more than anything Vorthrax could threaten.

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