412 000 произведений, 108 200 авторов.

Электронная библиотека книг » Zoey Ellis » Scars of his warth » Текст книги (страница 6)
Scars of his warth
  • Текст добавлен: 12 февраля 2026, 21:30

Текст книги "Scars of his warth"


Автор книги: Zoey Ellis



сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

CHAPTER TEN

"You broke her ribs?" The vein popping out on Oppo’s neck wasn’t a good sign. "Are you insane?"

Akoro strode to the command tent. "She ran."

"Of course she did! What did you expect?"

Akoro shot him a dark look. “I expect her to learn that if she tries to escape, then she will be broken bit by bit.”

Oppo’s entire face was stretched in disbelief. “You’re already using the pinch-bands and the midday heat. She’s not eating and barely sleeping and she’s in pain from⁠—“

“What do you think being a kidnapped prisoner is about, Oppo?”

Exhaling, Oppo shook his hand, his shoulders tense. “Something more serious could have happened to her internally. I told you not to use the pinch-bands on her torso. It’s too dangerous.”

Akoro nodded to passing Alphas as they maneuvered through the tents. “I trust your abilities to heal her.”

“Not from so many severe injuries all at once,” Oppo said sharply. “There can be complications. She was unconscious when I started treating her and she had bruises on her back from before she arrived. Did she battle with you?”

“Of course she did. She crashed into a tree when I repelled her magic.” Akoro kept the excitement out of his voice, Oppo wouldn’t appreciate the incredible struggle and chase the princess had given him.

Oppo’s voice pitched higher. “And you didn’t tell me?”

Akoro slowed and turned to him, pinning Oppo into stillness with a look.

The gust went out of his blustering, and he finally calmed. “I know not many things are not beyond you, Akoro,” he halted, “but by the sands, she can only take so much⁠—"

"She isn’t weak, brother. She can handle it. Every moment she’s in this sand drift, the more dangerous it becomes for everyone else, you know this. She will resist and fight me until she understands she has no other options, but I can’t afford to waste time dealing with her escape attempts. What would you have done?"

"I wouldn't have taken an Omega in the first place," Oppo stressed, and not for the first time.

“No,” Akoro said, a familiar annoyance twisting in his gut. “You wouldn’t do any of the things I have done, Oppo. And the Sy name would be lost to the sands.”

Oppo tensed. The heavy look exchanged between them carried so much coiled turbulence it wasn’t worth disturbing. Oppo, as always, was the first to drag his eyes away. “I’m not the only one who thinks you shouldn’t have taken an Omega,” he muttered.

“It is done,” Akoro said, his tone harsh and final. He began walking again. “I don’t care what you or anyone else thinks about it. You don’t need to like what I do, but you need to do your duties. We all knew she would sustain injuries. It’s nothing you can’t deal with. She’s agreed to give us information now. How long until we can leave?”

“We can’t move her right now. She needs⁠—”

“How long?” Akoro said sharply.

Oppo lowered his gaze in thought. “Tomorrow,” he said stiffly. “She needs rest before we can travel, but hydration, food, and medication I can give her on the way.”

Akoro nodded and said nothing more until they reached the command tent. Inside, his most trusted advisers gathered. The five of them plus Oppo made up the council of his dynasty, each heading an area of specialty with exceptional expertise and decades of experience, but more importantly, their loyalty was unshakable. Each were brutal in giving him the truth, unwavering in upholding his law, and every one of them would die for the Sy name.

Though in conversation, they stilled when he entered.

"She's agreed," Akoro said.

The council remained tense and silent. They’d all known the Omega was coming, but it was different now that she was here. The woman was a force that no one in this land had encountered before. Until he’d taken her, she was a myth to his army—one to excite over during meals and whisper about during training. Now she was here, and they could feel her power, it was terrifying for many. The council was unsettled. Even Nrommo, his battle chief, a ferocious and steadfast Alpha with years of experience, had been acting oddly. Akoro hadn’t seen him this nervous since the Battle of Sy.

But he needed his council to function as normal and remember that the princess was his prisoner, one who would push the boundaries.

“We need to handle this carefully, like we planned,” Akoro said. "Oppo said she'll be ready to travel tomorrow. I want everyone prepped to dismantle the camp at sunrise, and each team packed and ready to go within two hours of sunrise. Oppo, you and Prillu coordinate preparations for the Omega’s travel.”

Oppo nodded.

“Anything I need to know?” Akoro asked the group.

“The nnin-eellithi shouldn’t be able to catch up with us if we leave in the morning,” Tshel said. “But it will follow for a few days so we need to keep a good pace.”

“Good. Nrommo, make sure the camp is protected.”

Nrommo grunted, nodding his head. “It’s taken care of, my lord.”

Akoro surveyed them, looking for signs of fear or doubt but they were all resolute and alert. “You are dismissed.”

They swept passed him to the tent exit. Oppo turned and followed them. He slouched, his round and low head making him seem shorter. If he wasn’t as big as he was, he’d be mistaken for a Beta.

“Oppo,” Akoro called.

The other man stopped by the exit.

Akoro held his gaze, scrutinizing him until they were alone in the command tent. “Is it too soon for you to be doing this?”

Oppo moved his shoulders in a lazy shrug. “I am the best person to care for her. You cannot risk using anyone else.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Oppo drew in a long breath. “I know.” After a moment’s hesitation, he bowed and left.

Akoro shook his head. His brother used to be fearless, but the spiral of time had been particularly cruel to Oppo. He’d been broken. His anger over the treatment of the princess was the most passionate Akoro had seen him in over for three years. It felt good to argue with him again, like they used to. But Akoro couldn't let that get in the way of what needed to be done.

Oppo was right—no one in his council had agreed with the plan to take the Omega princess. They all presented reasons against the idea, but he stood firm. She was their best chance to secure the empire, and their objections came from fear not doubt. He did not want his reign in the new kingdom to be short-lived; the Sy Dynasty must endure.

Since childhood, he’d searched for the truth behind the whispers about the destroyers—the lush green world that had insidiously corrupted theirs. The world that denied him and his people the life they deserved. So he decided to take it from them. Decades of thought and planning had gone into this invasion. Taking a princess wasn’t any riskier than anything else he’d done to get to this point.

Except….

Something had happened in her tent just now.

Akoro exhaled slowly, moving to the stand at the table where he and his council did most of their planning. Standing over the princess, waiting for despair to bloom in those beautiful, brown, hooded eyes, an incredible scent had enveloped him; intensely sweet and spicy with a powerfully floral undercurrent. It made his mouth water and his cock harden. His mind drifted, focused on the Omega’s full mouth and her enticing slender neck. It’d drawn him closer to her, forcing steps he hadn’t intended to take to close the gap between them. She smelled like blissful, wicked sex, like warm nests and wild kisses and a wet, pounded cunt. His arousal built faster than it ever had before, but when he drew nearer, he saw signs of distress… and that jolted him; the quickness of her breath, the pulse of her heartbeat, and the sweat on her forehead. He’d blinked and remembered that he had caused that. He’d wanted to. Forcing that thought to sober him, he had to remember he still wanted to. She was his prisoner, not his next fuck. Taking one last inhale of that scent, he left her tent as fast as he could.

He’d pushed aside what happened until he was alone to think about it, but even now, he couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

For most of his life he’d fought to control the wildness of his Alpha instincts so he could direct them properly. It taken decades to hone his restraint—to not fuck every female, dominate every Beta or brawl with every Alpha. He’d been truly feral, but once he’d learned how to direct his instincts, it had made him deadly—more powerful than any other Alpha in his world. His people thought of him as cold and ruthless, but his efforts protected them and had single-handedly restored the Sy name from the ruins of history into a force of hope for his ssukkurian people. He never took action without intention and careful thought.

But what had happened in that tent wasn’t thought at all. It’d been pure instinct, building and raring to take over. He was still fucking hard. What would have happened if his trained mind didn’t pull him back? Akoro rubbed his face, annoyed. He’d been on the verge of destroying this whole mission.

Omegas were known to be beautiful and dangerous—everyone knew they smelled good and were incredibly pleasing to Alphas. But did they ever smell this good? He’d never known another woman so be pleasing to look at either. Curly copper hair, fawn skin, and a scowl that could bring an Alpha to his knees—it made sense that she’d smell as good as she looked. Something in the far depths of his memory prickled at him—something he should remember or was overlooking. Could she be using her scent as a weapon? No, Oppo would have made sure that couldn’t happen. Maybe he was overdue having a woman in his bed. When was the last time he’d fucked someone? He frowned in thought. He couldn’t even remember. Maybe that was his mistake—not making sure his balls had been drained thoroughly before capturing an Omega like the princess.

And what a capture it had been. The chase alone had been exhilarating. He knew she would fight, and he knew she would run, but her use of magic had been more skilled and fascinating than he’d thought possible. Within the blink of an eye she was shooting through the forest at a speed that actually made him wonder if he could keep up. But he’d caught her in the end like he knew he would, and no amount of sexy, delicious smells were going to force his hand to release her.

She was his now.

He should’ve mentioned the chase and her overwhelming scent to Oppo—if anyone knew about Omega biology, it was his brother. But something about the experiences felt intimate and highly personal, like they were just for him. And the idea that Oppo might smell her too… a dark spark twisted in his gut. On impulse, he got up and walked to the tent exit.

“Prillu!”

After a few moments, his diplomat and trade adviser, Prillu, appeared in front of him and bowed. “My rightful ruler and lord,” she greeted.

“No Alphas are to tend to the princess. Betas only. Females.”

“Yes, of course, that’s what we planned.” She hesitated. “I assume since Oppo is charged with her care, he will⁠—?”

The spark in his gut turned jagged. “Only if he has to.”

Prillu nodded and bowed deeply before he dismissed her.

He returned to the tent to begin his own preparations. Just because the Omega had agreed to give them information didn’t mean their work with her was over. She would lie and misdirect and cheat them to protect her people, and each time she’d need to learn how much of a mistake that was. Nothing was more important than invading the green world. He hadn’t wavered from this goal for decades and he wasn’t going to start now just because the key to success lay in a deliciously-scented Omega.

When they returned home, she would be questioned and interrogated and treated like the prisoner she was. And if he decided to observe her on the journey, it will be from afar where her scent couldn’t reach him.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Naya submerged into cool water and savored the weightlessness.

Her skin tingled, some parts of it stung, but she ignored it and absorbed the relieving sensation of hydration. After a long moment, hands pulled her up to the surface and lathered her hair and face. Naya let herself be turned and rotated while she tried to take in where she was. This tent was larger than her usual one, and had furniture, but she didn’t remember how she got there.

After the horrifying realization about the beast, things had dissolved into a hazy existence. Her mood had sunk so low, she couldn’t tell if she was awake or in a nightmare. Exhaustion had finally ripped its way to the core of her, and she couldn’t bear to think anymore. She just shut herself away, refusing to speak or even look at anyone who entered.

But the feeling of water couldn’t be ignored. Neither could the act of being bathed, if that’s what it could be called.

She floated in a fat tube of water that extended vertically into the ground, but she couldn’t see how the structure was possible. This tent had a hard wooden floor instead of sand, but the tube would still have to extend down past the wood and into the sand. After a moment of difficult thought, she gave up trying to work it out and enjoyed the soothing sensation of water on her blistery skin.

Two women floated alongside her, scrubbing her hair and carefully cleaning her body. Then they pulled her out, dried her, and applied an ointment to her cracked lips and the sores and welts across her body.

They gave her one of the knobby plant stems to drink, gesturing that she sip it slowly, while they coated her burns with a sticky salve and rebound the dark red bands to her forearms, this time forgoing the one around her torso.

After she drank half of the stem, they led her over to makeshift bed in a corner of the tent and forced her to lie down. A powerful drowsiness pulled her into darkness within a few moments.

When a loud commotion bled into her consciousness, she woke, her mind refreshed and sharp.

Naya lay for a moment, listening to the racket. Her mood had lightened, no doubt due to being clean and rested, but the unpleasant shadow of her conversation with the beast remained. She forced him out of her mind and sat up swiftly. Her focus now should be figuring out who these people really were and how she’d alert her father when she got back home.

Carefully she pushed up onto shaky legs and was surprised that there was no pain. A tacky residue covered her burns and the bruises on her torso had almost faded. The bands around her forearms were looser but stiff, more like armor cuffs instead of skin-tight like before. She tugged them down to her wrists, but as they slid over the heel of her hand, they tightened instantly—clearly being a “guest” of the beast didn’t mean being free from magical bindings.

The commotion outside grew louder. Lots of voices called to each other, layered with conversations and commands. Some shouted while others spoke normally, but none of them seemed aggressive, and yet it was the most noise they’d made in all the time she’d been here.

She glanced around the tent, wondering if she’d have a chance to slip away in the commotion, but hesitated. She still didn’t know how to get out of the desert. Running across the sand hoping she wouldn’t be seen wasn’t a plan that would get her home. It didn’t work last time, and she couldn’t afford to make mistakes when her home and family were at risk.

Papa always told her not to let information go to waste, that something seemingly insignificant could be the piece of information to turn the tide in a war. So she sat back on the bed and listened to the people outside, even though their language was so different from anything she’d heard before.

The Known Lands, which spanned across the three continents, were united by the common tongue. Each region, and in some cases individual countries, had their own native tongue but for trading, official, and legal purposes, the common tongue was used. In the Lox Empire, it was used almost exclusively, which was why she was only fluent in three other languages, and she rarely had the opportunity to speak them.

She closed her eyes and listened, hoping she could figure out a few words, but they were speaking too fast and the accent wasn’t familiar. Most languages in the Known Lands had developed together, so they used words or dialects that were similar enough to figure out. This sounded completely different.

It was a hard, guttural language softened by frequent use of the sh sound and lots of variation of the n sound. They used their voices in ways she hadn’t heard much before, and the more she listened, the more rhythmic and harmonious it sounded.

She was so focused on listening, she didn’t notice anyone had entered the tent until a brush skimmed her arm. She tensed, her eyes snapping open, and two women jumped back, watching her warily. They wore the same unusual tunics that everyone else wore, one brown and the other tan. They were larger than her, with toned arms and lean frames.

“Please stand,” the woman in brown said slowly, the Common Tongue words heavy with her accent.

Naya rose to her feet, watching them just as warily.

They pulled a calve-length tunic dress over her head. The other woman clasped her hands together, fingers interlocked, and held them out in front of her. “Like this.”

Naya repeated the action, then the woman in brown reached out to touch her fabric bands, and Naya watched closely.

The woman rubbed a quick, complicated pattern on the edge of the fabric, alternating between the pads of three of her fingers, and soon enough Naya’s wrists were restricted from moving apart. The other woman wrapped the same fabric around her knees and rubbed another complicated pattern into its edge, using two of her fingers, restricting Naya’s ability to walk too quickly.

Naya stared at the fabric, dismay sinking into her. It would be almost impossible for her to figure out those patterns.

They escorted her out of the tent, one in front, one behind. As they crossed the tent, Naya noticed that the tube of water had disappeared. The tent floor was intact, with no sign that it had ever been there. Maybe she’d imagined it.

The hot, bright glare hit her as soon as she stepped out of the tent, and Naya pressed her lips together to avoid a whimper escaping. Even though she knew she wasn’t going to the stone to be tortured, the fabric, the sun, being escorted outside… the familiarity sent a sharp unease through her chest. If she never spent another day in the sun, she doubted she’d miss it.

Outside the commotion was even louder, and the camp was in disarray. People rushed in different directions and there was a quickness about it that alarmed her, but it didn’t bother the two women. They led her to a large wheelless cart that sat flat on the sand next to the group of the non-horses. The inside of the cart was similar to an open-air carriage—soft brown material lined its floor and sidewalls and a ledge ran along one side to sit on. Cushions and blankets had been placed in one corner and in the other was a squat metal pot with a lid.

Motioning, the women made her step inside and sit down, and then they removed the fabric from her knees and wrists. They moved to opposite corners of the cart and stood guard.

Naya surveyed the camp ground, finally seeing what the commotion had been about. Almost all the tents were dismantled with the one she’d been in and a few others remaining. The people were packing their materials into carts similar to the one she was in, all lined up next to the strange-looking horses. So many people darted about, many more than she recalled seeing when the tents were up.

While they worked on the remaining tents, the stout healer approached her with a knobby stem. It had been cut open, but part of the rounded disk of the root remain attached, like a lid. He handed it to Naya and then pointed to a bracket on the inside wall of the cart.

Naya nodded.

He then imitated drinking from the stem, pointed to his mouth, lowered his finger down his body to his groin, and then pointed to the metal pot in the cart's corner.

Naya half-smiled. So now they cared if she soiled herself. “I understand, thank you.”

He inclined his head and walked away, and the two women moved to either corner of the cart. It looked as if they were both working on something, speaking quietly in their language and then a flash of shimmery magic covered her cart, arced like a clear dome, and the air around her cooled, removing the intense bite of the sun.

Naya sighed in relief, then settled into the cushioned corner of the cart, sipping the delicious liquid in her stem, and watched dismantling of last tent.

The carts were all lined up in rows that extended far behind her, most of them piled high with materials and equipment while others carried people. There were more rows that she could count, and a shimmering magical dome covered each cart. The strange horses were positioned in front of a line of two or three carts, and similar to horse-drawn carriages, the animals’ saddles were attached to rods connected to the carts.

Several people approached the side of Naya’s cart and unfolded long rods that they attached to the saddle of a beautiful non-horse that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. With a rich tan coat that lightened to a creamy beige underside, brown hooves, and short spikes along the back of his neck, Naya had never seen such an animal before. He was striking. This odd-looking horse behaved differently from the others of his kind, too. Slightly bigger, his thicker muscles were more defined, and his long ears stood still on his head, unlike the others whose ears constantly flicked and twitched and rotated. Similarly, his long thin tail, with a tufty tan curl at the end, didn’t move constantly like the others.

After examining him as much as she could, Naya turned back to the camp people, absorbing every detail she could. They used magic over the carts to protect their cargo, but how could they travel at any speed dragging carts along the sand? Surely they’d tip over at some point. She eyed her own cart—maybe it would too. That had to be why they were all checking and rechecking the carts and rods.

As the final checks were made, the beast appeared.

Surrounded by a group of men and women, he walked through the procession of carts and animals, nodding and exchanging words with the people. The group that strode next to him seemed important, too. The stout healer was one of them, but the others she didn’t recognize.

As the beast reached the front of her cart, he strode directly toward her and her heart lurched. She didn’t want to speak to him, not so soon. But he wasn’t heading for her. He swung up onto the beautiful, strange horse, settling into the saddle as the entire camp gathered around him.

There was a moment of silence. Then he spoke, his voice rising into the air.

Naya tensed at the deep, strong tone of his voice. It wasn’t just deep; it was smooth with a distinct richness that made him sound seasoned and wise. The undertone of that smoothness had a textured, gravelly depth that carried the demanding growl of a powerful Alpha.

Naya swayed in the cart, drawing her knees in to protect herself from the fluttering of arousal that appeared just from hearing his voice. She tried to focus on how he was addressing his people in his native tongue.

He spoke with passion, his words rhythmic, with repetitive sounds and emphasis similar to how her father spoke to his people en masse. She watched the surrounding crowd. They were enraptured. Their eyes locked onto him—no one glanced away or fidgeted. All attention was on their leader.

Her knees relaxed back down. His impact on her may be because he was her true mate, but his people’s behavior told her he was a captivating speaker. Naya’s heart sank. Without understanding a single word, she could tell he had the presence of a leader—one who riveted others and compelled them to follow.

The beast glanced in her direction, and the entire crowd turned their heads to look at her.

Naya stilled but didn’t shrink from their gaze as the beast continued talking. Whatever he was saying about her, it didn’t inspire anger or contempt. His people looked at her with determination and a tinge of curiosity, while a tremor of fear flashed in some of their expressions.

As he continued speaking, their attention was drawn back to him. He ended his speech with a crescendo of a repeated phrase that peaked into a roar that tore the air, gritty and textured just like his voice, and pulled on the hair on Naya’s arms and neck. The crowd joined him, everyone still cheering when they made their way back to their carts.

Naya watched the beast’s broad back as he settled on his non-horse and fixed material around his head. Of course, she would be attached to his animal. If her cart tipped over, he would know immediately.

After a few moments, the odd horses began to move.

She braced herself against the side of the cart as it jerked across the sand, but as his animal picked up speed, the cart floated upward. Naya shifted her position to look over the edge of the cart. It was hovering a few feet above the sand!

She stared at the sand rushing by before lifting her gaze to see the other carts all hovering behind their animals as well. It was an incredible sight. Even though the beast said that magic wouldn’t help her here, they’d harnessed it in ways she’d never seen. It was fascinating.

The horse-creatures increased to a full gallop, shooting across the sand at an incredible speed. They moved beautifully and quietly. For all their twitchiness when they stood around, their muscular bodies transformed into a beauty of motion when they ran. Naya marveled, watching them. If she was ever going to travel in this place, she’d probably need one of these creatures. They moved fast and seemed relatively simple to ride. Their gait was slightly different from a horse but she couldn’t see any major differences. She’d love to learn to ride them, but the beast wouldn’t allow that. It would be a fantastic way to escape, however. They were quiet and fast.

Their ears pressed down flat on their heads while they ran and flicked up intermittently as if listening for instructions. Their tails behaved differently on each of them—either straight behind them or flicking side to side.

All the people riding the horse-creatures covered either their whole head or most of their faces, and Naya could see why. Moving at this speed, sand hit the magical dome that covered and protected her.

The sand rushed by underneath her cart, and yet the golden landscape remained the same for miles. It made Naya feel like she was moving quickly and slowly at the same time.

She settled into the cushion, looking for some kind of landmark she could use for reference if she had to find her way back. But only sandy hills were visible in all directions all the way to the horizon.

It was only when the horse-creature slowed and her cart bumped down on the sand that Naya realized she’d fallen asleep. The skies had darkened, and a sharp wind scraped loose sand across the magical dome over her.

The horse-creature trotted to a halt, as did the procession behind her, and a quiet flurry began as soon as the riders slid off their animals and people climbed out of their carts.

By the time daylight had faded, they’d set up campfire structures that surrounded the fleet. The horse-creatures had been detached from their carts and fed, and the people were sitting in groups around flickering fires. Domes of magic covered each group as they ate and chatted, stretching out on blankets to settle for the night.

Naya folded herself into the corner of her cart, shivering, her knees drawn up, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. The heat of the sun had faded with it, and the magic dome had turned the air icy cold. She covered herself with the blankets and let her thoughts simmer, watching the twinkling sky so different from the one she used to watch over Ashens.

What were her parents doing? Had they found her spot in the forest? She wasn’t sure how long it’d been since she’d been taken, but they would be searching for her by now. The question was whether they’d find her.

While she wanted to cling to the idea that she could be hidden somewhere in one of the three continents, she had to face that she wasn’t in the Known Lands. It wasn’t just the desert or the language, but also the design of the clothing and strange items they possessed—the horse-like animals, the use of magic and the behavior of magic, the fabric that reacted to distance. Even the lantern on the table of her tent had been a strange design; fat, gold, and round rather than the usual tin rectangular.

Everything was too different. The stars weren’t the same ones she was used to seeing. When she’d arrived, it had been bright—daytime, even though in her forest it had been night. The days here were either ahead or behind her time.

It was hard to believe she could be beyond the Known Lands, but ignoring the obvious signs wouldn’t help her get back. Hopefully, her parents would find a clue in the forest, but whatever the beast used to interrupt magic and bring her here had to be extremely powerful—more so that any portal created in the Known Lands.

If her father couldn’t find her, he’d ask the other rulers for help once he eliminated their involvement, which should happen quickly. Between the three of them, they should find her—she just didn’t know how long that would take.

Muffled footsteps interrupted her thoughts. The stout healer approached with another stem of the knobby plant. Three women accompanied him; one held a tray with bowls on it, and the other two bent to do something at the corners of her cart.

The healer smiled at her nervously as he waited, nodding his approval that she’d finished the previous stem.

When the dome disappeared, an ice-cold breeze whipped Naya’s hair into a frenzy. She inhaled sharply, the cold so bitter it sent relentless shivers skittering through her.

The healer checked her wounds and reapplied the ointment and salve. He replaced the empty stem in the holder with the new one and then took from the tray a bowl of something steaming, a small bread and two round, furry items that were either fruit or vegetable.


    Ваша оценка произведения:

Популярные книги за неделю