Crave To Conquer (Myth of Omega, #1)(19)

Drocco sat up on the platform watching the festivities in the Great Hall become rowdier as the evening wore on. The wide, heavy throne he rested in had been a gift from the Grence cities who were known and celebrated for their quality furniture and upholstery. It was positioned in the center of the platform with only a small table to his left where his tankard of ale sat. Before the platform stood a row of guards. Every-so-often, a warrior would pass and call to him to join in; to eat, cheer the dancers, encourage those in combat, and boast their achievement. Drocco would cheer and call back to them, but the guards would wave them on so he wasn’t too disturbed.

His Talent-crafters claimed that each entrance to the Great Hall had been fitted with a charm, made of a collection of specific gems and crystals, that would disable any use of the Talent within the hall. Of course, that wouldn’t tell him if any of his visitors used it, but it should prevent anything untoward from happening at the event. He watched Torin move through the crowd, his steel eyes taking everything in. There was a chair for him on a separate lower stage on the far left, but Torin never sat idle. At least Drocco could count on Torin to see the things he wouldn’t.

As the time for pledges drew closer, Drocco became restless. The celebration wasn’t lifting his spirits as he thought it would. All it did was remind him that there was a long way to go to unite the Empire. The challenges still remained; eliminating the small resistance who remained loyal to the dead King of Ashens, solving the puzzle of the missing Omegas, and uniting all the territories under his rule. He looked forward to tackling them but the celebration felt like it was at the wrong time. He should be spending time working on his investigation. He glanced around. Cailyn hadn’t yet arrived. He sent for her and then stood to give his celebration speech for his warriors and visitors. He spoke with all the passion and fire and impatience bounding through him, and the hall erupted with crazed roars and boisterous cheers.

As he sat down, he saw Cailyn enter. He couldn’t take his eyes from her as she threaded through the crowd toward him. He almost held his breath as he stared. The woman was utterly gorgeous. Her hair had been swept up again revealing that delicate neck, and the dress clung to every delicious curve. Finally he could see her luscious figure in detail and it had been worth the wait. With the cut of the dress revealing the tops of her shoulders, her simple elegance seemed out of place among the raucous crowd.

His guards let her through at his instruction and she climbed the platform and stood before him, her head low.

“I’m not pleased you had to be summoned, kitten,” he said, lifting his ale and keeping his eyes on her.

“I’m sure you can understand I wasn’t eager to attend, considering your plans to…” Her voice petered out, her head lifted and she closed her eyes, swaying slightly. Then her eyes opened, widening as an expression of horror seeped into her face.

Drocco frowned, confused, and then a scent hit him. A rich, luscious, sublime scent, like nothing he had smelled before. It penetrated every part of him, causing a yearning so powerful that suddenly every fiber of his being switched to high alert.

“No,” Cailyn whispered, taking a step back. “No. It can’t…”

Drocco ignored her and leaned forward, trying to decipher what he was experiencing. A fog began to swamp his mind, and the only clear thought emerging was that he needed that scent—it belonged to him. He turned his head slowly seeking it out, and then snapped back to Cailyn. It was her.

Cailyn glanced around wildly as she backed away, her whole body tense and poised to bolt.

Drocco rose slowly, every inch of him aware of every inch of her. A raw hunger developed as he took in her terrified expression, her scent blossoming into an aroma so enticing, so complex, his cock hardened to rock. At the same time, the guards behind her began to turn and look at her, their nostrils flaring.

Something snapped in Drocco. He swept forward and lifted Cailyn, throwing her over his shoulder before storming out of the Great Hall. He maneuvered through the corridors of the Palace to the nearest private space he could find, trying to ignore the sweet aroma filling his nostrils. He could barely think. All he knew was that he needed to be alone with her. His guards would be following him; he wanted to lose them.

He arrived at his barely used office and entered without breaking his stride. Heading to the center of the room, he put her down, keeping his hands on her soft body as he breathed her in.

She looked up at him and he froze. Her brown irises had morphed to include a hint of gold—a gold he had only ever read about, a gold that no one had seen in one hundred and eleven years.

“Are you an Omega?” he said, his voice hoarse with disbelieve.

She took advantage of his shock to stumble away from him to the far wall. “What did you do?” she cried. She pressed herself up against the wall and almost sobbed. “They’re gone. They’re all gone! What did you do?”

Drocco watched her eyes turning more golden as the seconds passed. “Explain yourself, Cailyn Lefroy,” he demanded. “Are you an Omega, or have you taken something?”

The woman moved along the wall and then back again, looking around frantically. Her scent seeped into the room almost lazily, and it called to Drocco to cease all the questioning and rip that dress off of her. But he forced himself to resist. He needed to know what had changed. How could she suddenly smell so good and have acquired the infamous golden eyes of an Omega in her Haze? Was it a trick? Hadn’t Malloron mentioned Haze recreators coming into the city more often? She could be trying to trap him as revenge for her sister. And yet, as Drocco continued to watch her, she became more desperate.