The Alpha King (Kingdom of Askara #1)(4)
For thousands of years their land was governed as one kingdom. Then the last great Alpha King died without an heir and for almost seven hundred years the territories had fought among themselves. Many people died and the land was ravaged. Just a little under three hundred years ago an uneasy truce had been proposed and the country was carved up into individual territories. Now each territory kept itself to itself. Luca’s grandfather had told him that the truce would exist until a new Alpha King was born. The problem was that most of the Alphas were now like the humans they had once despised. Most had given up waiting for that day to come because the only way an Alpha King could be crowned was if his powers were summoned by a pure omega, and everyone knew there hadn’t been one of those born in at least a thousand years. Pure omegas were even more rare than Alpha Kings. Tales were told to pups of how the pure omegas had incredible powers—healing, foresight, comfort—but when the last Alpha King had died, his pure omega had vanished and there hadn’t been a pure omega born since then.
The grand-beta brought out a scroll and started reading the list of omegas as the procession continued past him. Anton was twenty-two and could summon rain. It was a handy gift to have during the summer drought when both of Askara’s suns—Sorin and Surya—reached their zenith. Sure enough, Luca saw two of the Alphas present sit up and take notice. Arwenn was twenty-three and a gifted apothecary. The Alpha who mated him would be able to heal their human guards and trade with other packs. Jasmine was only nineteen but she was the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter. Everyone was expecting her to develop far-sight when she reached the age of twenty-one.
The next omega announced was Tara and Luca heard the murmurs as her breeder status was announced. Luca had had met Tara a few times, and she had indicated his advances would be welcome. If he had to pick a female, a breeder would be the best choice. Male to male matings were permissible in Askara, but it got complicated when it concerned an Alpha. All Alphas wanted heirs, and if they mated a male omega, then they needed a female breeder to produce one—since she-wolves only went into heat once every three years, while breeders were guaranteed nearly constant heats from the time of the first sexual encounter until the Alpha’s seed took and the breeder became pregnant. The process would be initiated again whenever the Alpha decided to lie with the breeder again. The whole process sounded crass and unfeeling, but breeders lived a life of luxury, as they were spoiled, pampered, and wanted for nothing. As soon as the required minimum of two pups were born, they were gifted their own house and servants. They were then free to take any lover they chose. Tara would have been a good choice for him, and while most werewolves were willing and capable to mate with either sex; Luca’s strong preference for males was unusual.
“Hey,” Sam elbowed him and said sarcastically. “You’re not listening. What if you miss the chance to be crowned an Alpha King?”
Luca snorted and sat up. Yeah, like that’s going to happen. Arwenn and Anton would be claimed immediately, and to be honest, neither omega, even male, did anything for him. He yawned and reached over to fill his goblet as the last gilded chair passed, then he paused in shock. The slave who had taken the whipping earlier was now being forced to be one of the servants carrying the chair the last omega sat on. Luca took in the shaking limbs as the boy struggled with the weight of the huge ornate chair. He was far too small for such a task and it had obviously been doled out as further punishment. The slave kept his face down as he staggered past Luca, then he stumbled. Luca saw the red and bleeding stripes on his back at the same time as Mickela raised the arm he carried the whip in.
But the grand-beta never got a chance to bring it down because before Luca realized what he had done, he had leapt from his seat, and grasped Mickela’s arm, effortlessly keeping it still. The beta, all three hundred pounds of him, was helpless to break Luca’s hold.
“What is the meaning of this?” Mickela spluttered, and in seconds Luca was surrounded by Alpha Hendrick’s human guards. He dropped the beta’s arm, vaguely surprised at his own strength. Two other gammas surrounded the chair as it was lowered. Mickela clutched the boy.
“He was about to whip a servant for failing at an impossible task. The boy is too small to be a chair-bearer and he has already been beaten once.” Every conversation seemed to have ceased.
“Nonsense,” Alpha Hendrick snapped out, walking over to Luca. “The boy is human, and my slave. He has no rights here. Sit down, Luca,” Hendrick said jovially. “Today is a celebration, but to remind you of your responsibilities I will do one thing for you.” He gestured to Mickela and the boy. The beta’s fist tightened cruelly around the slave’s arm. “Instead of giving you twenty lashes for your impertinence at stopping the choosing, I will give your punishment to the boy.”
Luca gasped. “Absolutely not,” he replied before he thought better of it.
Hendrick barked an incredulous laugh out. “I think you would do better to wait until next year’s choosing. I doubt you have the maturity yet to take on the Alpha’s role.”
Luca opened his mouth to take a deep, angry breath and then he simply forgot to breathe altogether because at the same time as he heard Mickela laughing while he unleashed his whip, the boy finally lifted his face. Piercing blue eyes stared back at him. Eyes he hadn’t seen in exactly seven years. He had convinced himself he had dreamed of the child that day when he had almost died and he had let himself be convinced the boy’s words were nothing more than a product of his fevered imagination.