Page 2 of The King's Omega
I shared that ridiculous scrap of prophecy with Axe, expecting him to roll his eyes. “Rutting sows?” he signed calmly.
“Yes.” Prophecies were beyond me; military strategy was well within my expertise. I would find a way to save us all, or die with valor on the field with my men. I turned for the castle, ready to prepare for a major battle, doomed or not.
Before I could protest, Axe pulled me down an alley that led to one of the city’s seedier districts, known for its brothels.
He wanted a woman? As Alphas, we had high sex drives, but Axe had to be careful about which women he hired to see to his needs. I followed, wondering if he had finally found a whore who could accommodate him.
In minutes, we stood outside a dilapidated brothel with a wooden sign in the shape of a pig that read “The Rutting Sow.” The paint was fresh, a bright pink, and the front of the building was slightly cleaner than its neighbors. This brothel was thriving. I took a breath and froze.
Peaches. Ripe peaches and honey and musk. My pants grew uncomfortably tight as the tantalizing aroma trickled out of the doorway and into my lungs.
A diamond hidden in a pen of rutting sows.
My Omega!I let out a roar of triumph. My kingdom’s salvation lay within.
My mate.
I tore the door from its hinges and stood in the opening, scanning the dimly lit room for her.
Beta women, tall and willowy, dressed in scraps of silk and lace, their makeup as false as the sickly-sweet scents they sprayed on for their customers, filled the room. But one woman sat close to the hearth, her golden hair shining in the flickering firelight, her blue eyes wide and frightened. This woman wore a dress that, while not modest, was a far cry from advertising her profession. And her ankle was chained to a great iron ring near the hearth.
Was she a prisoner? She couldn’t be a whore, nor a Beta. The scent rising from her lush curves, her perfect, rounded breasts, nipped-in waist, and sumptuous hips were all traits of the long-lost Omegas.
I stepped forward, ignoring the women’s screams. “My Omega. You’re here.” I couldn’t look away from the limpid pools of her eyes.
Oblivious, I didn’t notice the danger beneath my feet.
My heel landed on a glass mug, then slid on a patch of what felt like oil but smelled like sardines. I hopped onto the rug to catch my balance and my foot rolled—on something small, furry, and noisy tucked under the edge. “Meowwwww!”
What happened next was unclear. The furry lump under the carpet leaped out and clawed its way up my pants leg and under my loose shirt, leaving deep, bloody scratches on my chest. I fell in an unkingly heap, flat on my ass.
I reached into my shirt as I landed on the filthy brothel floor, grasped the hellcat by the neck; and, pulling it free, prepared to fling it into the fire, back to the pits of hell where it obviously belonged.
“Noooooo!”
Before I could pull my arm back, another small lump of dark brown hair and fabric leaped on my back, screeching. “Put down my Mischief!”
This second, larger lump scrambled up my legs and around my waist, its hard-heeled shoes—or maybe devil’s hooves—thumping into my exposed privates, one heel falling precisely on my bollocks.
A white-hot knife of pain stabbed into me from groin to stomach.
I grunted, the cat howled, the Betas shrieked and fainted. The brown-haired girl—for it looked vaguely like a slight girl covered with strange bumps beneath many layers of clothes—actually growled. Bizarrely, my cock stiffened… until Axe reached over, grabbed the girl and the cat in one hand, his great broadax in the other, and prepared to end them with one sweep of the blade.
Axe looked to me for direction, as always. I signed a curt, “killing peasants, are we?” If she even was a peasant. The devil girl had begun calling me a series of foul names so fluently, in so many languages, I wondered if she were a pirate in disguise.
His eyes sparkled with humor. Easy for him to laugh; he hadn’t been kneed in the balls. “Just scaring one.”
I narrowed my eyes as the girl switched from cursing to screeching. “Make it stop, Axe.”
Then a sweet voice, like a string of silver bells, chimed. “Please don’t kill her, Your Majesty. She is my servant. She means no harm.” The golden beauty stepped forward and curtsied low, her dress revealing even more of those shapely curves as her scent swirled around us.
Unable to look away from the vision in front of me, I stood and waved a hand at Axe, who dumped both unfortunate creatures on the ground. The cat scrambled inside the devil girl’s dress, and she let out a hiss worthy of any feline.
“No harm?” One of the Betas approached, a well-used leather crop in her hand. From her bearing and age, I guessed she was the madam. “Ya near killed our king!” She brought the switch down on the girl’s humped back, again and again, shouting, “shame!” and “wicked!”
The ragamuffin squealed like the brothel’s namesake, although I noticed she seemed to move so that the blows fell on the odd lumps under her clothes. I turned to smile at the Omega encouragingly. “What is your name?”
“Selene, Your Majesty.” Of course, she had a name as elegant as her face. I leaned close, wondering why her scent was diffuse, centered on her chest and hips. How had she survived the plague? I resolved to discover everything about her.
