Page 6 of Dragon's Captive

I reach the main reading room, lungs burning, legs shakier than they have any right to be after such a short sprint. The suppressants. The doubled dose is affecting my stamina, making my body sluggish when I need speed most desperately. I push through it, eyes fixed on the heavy oak doors leading outside. If I can reach the street, there are hiding places I've mapped throughout the settlement. Underground storage rooms, forgotten spaces, bolt-holes prepared for this exact nightmare.

The doors seem miles away, stretching impossibly with each desperate step. I hear nothing behind me—no footsteps, no pursuit. Somehow that's worse than if he were crashing after me. Predators don't rush when they know prey is cornered.

My hands slam against the oak doors, shoving them open with strength born of pure terror. Sunlight blinds me momentarily, the transition from library dimness to morning brightness disorienting. The town square spreads before me, figures frozen in shock at the sight of their librarian bursting from the building like a woman possessed.

Which way? The administrative building would have people, witnesses, but also collaborators who'd hand me over instantly. The residential sector has more hiding places, but narrower escape routes if he corners me there.

I choose right, toward the old mill with its abandoned storage tunnels. Five steps is all I manage.

A shadow passes overhead, massive and swift, accompanied by the leathery snap of wings unfurling. Before my mind can fully process what's happening, Kairyx lands directly in my path, the impact of his arrival cracking the cobblestones beneath his feet. He's shed the pretense of human form now—massive black wings extend from his back, scales covering more of his visible skin, his face elongated slightly into something that bridges the gap between man and monster.

"Running only makes this more entertaining, little omega," he says, eyes gleaming with hunger as he advances. His wings fold partially but remain visible, a display of power and transformation that makes several onlookers gasp and retreat. "Your suppressants are already failing. I can smell your fear..." He inhales again, and that terrible smile returns. "And your arousal."

My face burns with humiliation as acute as my fear. Because he's right—beneath the terror pulses something my suppressed biology can't fully contain. A response to his alpha pheromones that makes my core clench emptily, that sends another rush of slick soaking my underwear. My omega body recognizing what it was evolutionarily designed to want, regardless of what my mind chooses.

I back away, but there's nowhere to go. Behind me, a growing crowd of townspeople watch with the horrified fascination of witnesses to an inevitable disaster. No one will help me. No one can help me against a Prime alpha, let alone the territorial commander.

"Stay back," I warn anyway, voice cracking with desperation. "I'm not what you think."

"Oh?" He stalks closer with predatory grace. "And what do I think, librarian? That you're an unmated omega who's beenhiding from her biological imperative? Who's been using illegal suppressants to avoid Conquest registration laws?" Another step. "Who belongs, by right of Conquest and biology, to the Prime alpha who claims her?"

Each word lands like a physical blow. Each accurate accusation strips away another layer of the identity I've so carefully constructed. I continue backing away until I hit the wall of a building, the rough stone scraping my palms.

"Please," I whisper, hating myself for begging but unable to stop. "Please don't do this."

He moves with that unnatural speed again, closing the distance between us before I can blink. His massive form cages me against the wall, one clawed hand slamming into the stone beside my head hard enough to crack the mortar. Heat pours from him in waves, his scent—smoke and cinnamon and something metallic—overwhelming my senses.

"You have no idea what I'm going to do," he rumbles, voice so low it's almost subsonic. "But your body does."

And God help me, it does. Even as my mind screams in terror, my omega biology responds to his proximity with unmistakable preparation. My nipples tighten painfully against my blouse, my pulse speeds up but not from fear alone, and between my thighs, the evidence of my body's betrayal grows more embarrassingly obvious with each passing second.

One last desperate attempt. I duck under his arm, making a break for the narrow alley between buildings. I make it three steps before his hand closes around my upper arm, yanking me back with ease. My feet actually leave the ground briefly, my body twisting in midair before slamming against his chest.

His grip is unbreakable now, one arm wrapped around my waist like an iron band, the other holding my wrist in a grasp that allows no possibility of escape. I struggle anyway, my efforts as effective as a sparrow fighting a falcon's talons.

"Enough," he growls against my ear, the heat of his breath making me shudder involuntarily. "You've provided sufficient entertainment for one day."

I become aware of our audience then—the entire town watching my capture, my humiliation. Some look away in pity, others in disgust that I've hidden among them all this time. A few omega women stare with naked envy that the Commander himself would bother with a plain librarian. None, not one, shows any sign of wanting to help.

"By Conquest law, all unmated omegas belong to the Prime who claims them," Kairyx announces, his voice carrying across the square with effortless authority. The formal declaration turns this from capture to legal proceeding, from violence to sanctioned claiming. "And I'm claiming you, librarian."

The words fall like a death sentence. Worse, in many ways. Death would be final; what awaits me now is a living surrender, a future where my body belongs to this monster, where my purpose narrows to bearer of his offspring, where my will matters less than the biological imperative he can trigger with his presence alone.

"No," I say, still struggling despite the futility. "I won't. You can't make me?—"

His laugh vibrates through his chest against my back. "I don't need to make you do anything. Your biology will do that for me." His free hand moves to my throat, not choking but resting over where my scent gland would be most active during heat. The touch sends an involuntary shiver through me, another rush of slick betraying my body's response. "You're already beginning transition from suppressant withdrawal. Within days, perhaps hours, your heat will manifest fully." His voice drops lower, meant for me alone. "And then you'll beg for what you're fighting now."

"I'd rather die," I hiss, meaning every syllable.

His hand tightens fractionally around my throat, just enough to remind me of the absolute control he wields. "That's not one of your options, little omega."

Before I can respond, the world tilts alarmingly as he lifts me bodily, tucking me against his chest like a child's doll. I renew my struggles, fists pounding against his scaled shoulders, feet kicking uselessly at air. The contact only intensifies my body's reaction—the hardness of his scales beneath my hands sending unwanted sparks of awareness through my fingertips, the heat of his body triggering responsive warmth in my core.

"Release the female at once!"

The shout comes from across the square, where a figure steps forward from the crowd. My heart stops, then restarts with painful force. Darius. My resistance contact, my friend, my fellow fighter against Prime rule. His weathered face is tight with determination as he levels an ancient rifle at Kairyx's massive form.

No. No no no. He'll be killed instantly.

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