Page 51 of The King's Omega
Vali
There was only one way to go: down a long, dimly lit, tunnel-like hallway that ran straight into a stone wall at the end. There were doors on each side, a few of which were open, the rooms unoccupied. I had expected a rank place, but apparently Vilkurn took better care of his torture dungeon than others might.
Rigol’s voice drifted from a distant doorway, and I crept toward the sound. I passed the second doorway, a raspy feminine voice coming from inside making me jump.
“He didn’t see you, did he? A diamond in his hand, and he let you fall into the muck. It won’t be the last time.” I peered into the room. Chained to the wall next to a pallet was a rail-thin woman about Sorcha’s age. Her gray hair was oily and lank, but she had a small loaf of bread and a cup of water nearby, and her clothing was free of blood or other stains.
I tried not to think about how much actual torturing occurred here and whispered back. “Are you talking to me?”
“Only if you’re the little Omega.”
“I’m still not sure I am.” According to the book, Omegas were magical, powerful. And I was anything but.
“You are. I know about these things.” She sniffed. “I’m glad someone got you out of the Sow, but I was surprised at who it was. He’s the coldest of the lot.”
“You knew Axe saved me?” I thought for a moment. “But he’s not cold at all. He’s the kind to rescue anyone from a place like that.”
“The Executioner?” Her cackle was so loud I was afraid Rigol would hear and come investigate. I shushed her.
“Ah, Goddess be praised. I lived to see the kitten and the killer fall in love.” The woman’s eyes turned white. “Your love will conquer all, even death. Give yourself to the one your heart sings for, little Omega, and you will save him and all of his brothers.”
“You mean the generals? Or Rigol?” I asked, keeping my voice low. I knew Rigol was Axe’s brother; I’d overheard that much. Did they have other brothers? She didn’t answer, and when I turned to go, she hissed.
Her creepy white eyes fixated on my face. “Snakes are snakes until the day they die. Venom will poison his mind, his heart, his blood, and his throne. Trust your instincts, but take the throne that is offered, young queen.”
Her words burrowed into my brain, pounding out a rhythm that frightened me. Why did she—how could anyone—think I was the one to save the country? I was a nobody, an orphan. What would I even do with a throne if I had one?
The thought that I might have some significant role to play terrified me. I wasn’t special. I would fail, and it would all be my fault.
Then I heard something that had frightened me for far longer than thoughts of failing my kingdom. A voice that had played in my nightmares for months.
“Your Majesty, I’m your mate. You can’t kill me!”
Selene.
What was she doing here? For a second, I hoped she was being whipped, flayed, or filleted, or whatever techniques Vilkurn’s dungeon people must have perfected. But then my heart sank.
“No, I can’t kill you. And not just because you’re my mate.” Rigol’s voice sounded strained. I kneeled by the last door and let my head inch forward to see inside.
Chains bound Selene’s naked body to the wall, her arms stretched high. Good. That meant she couldn’t scratch anyone. Tears ran down her face, and I wondered again at the unfairness of the Goddess. Why should Selene look even more gorgeous when she cried? My face went splotchy like I had the measles or some sort of skin disease.
Why was she naked? A bucket of water sat to one side, along with a stack of cloths. Someone had washed her.
Rigol sat before her, his head in his hands. Every so often, he took a deep breath. Finally, he stood, approached Selene, and buried his face in her bare neck.
What in all the hells? I fought back the growl that threatened to erupt from my mouth. Rigol sucked in another breath, then moved to smell all of her, one horrifying body part at a time.
He stopped at last at her core, sniffing the tight blonde curls between her legs.
Blood pounded in my ears. This was atorturedungeon, wasn’t it? Why wasn’t he hurting her—why was he sniffing her instead? I bared my teeth, preparing to leap into the room and show the king what torture should look like.
I took a deep breath to let out a battle cry—but paused when a smell took me by surprise. That scent… it was apples and cinnamon and caramel.
Oh, Goddess. Selene’s scent was the same as the bottle of perfume that had broken all those months ago. The one she’d first had at Madam’s.
“Youarean Omega,” Rigol murmured. “How?”
No! I wanted to scream, but I listened. She had to be tricking them. She was a spy, wasn’t she? She’d escaped.
