Wild by Sara Fields
Chapter 5
Ivar
By the gods, I had tried.
I’d fought with everything in me not to touch her, but she’d challenged my alpha and I could not for the life of me quiet the need to teach her what happened to naughty little omegas who forgot their place. Even now, I could still sense the enticing aroma of her slick soaking my fingers. Every sound she’d made had made my cock jerk and my balls squeeze with arousal.
Fuck. I could still hear her cries vibrating through me as if she was still here with me.
If we hadn’t been interrupted, there’s no doubt in my mind that I’d have thrown her on her back and given her the hard fucking she so richly deserved.
I gritted my teeth, hating myself for my own weakness. Not even my own will had been strong enough to combat my true nature.
I remember the shiver that had trembled across her skin when I’d trapped her at the door, the tenseness in her muscles when I’d carried her to the bench and placed her over my knee, and I wouldn’t ever forget the sounds of protest she made when I bared her bottom and spanked it bright red. Her moans and cries had made my cock harder than it’s ever been.
It still felt like an iron spike and it was impossible to focus on anything else except sinking it deep between her muscled thighs.
I climbed to the upper floors and disappeared down the halls to the outer walls. After traversing up farther to the rooftop, I found an abandoned bell tower. There were dilapidated crates, cracked leather belts, and several swords that looked to be rusted through. The tower was mostly open to the elements and much of what was stored up here seemed to be well past ruined. Broken slats in the wooden floor made it precarious, forcing me to step along the sturdier ones as lightly as I could. There was a lock on a hinged trapdoor in the center that appeared to be rusted shut. This place had long fallen into disuse and likely hadn’t seen another human for at least ten years.
It was the perfect place for me to rest and regroup.
I couldn’t focus though. I was far too preoccupied with the omega down below.
I was so hard that it was painful.
I pushed the white robes over my head, tossing them aside for the time being. I didn’t need any disguises right now. I was safe here.
I lowered myself to the floor, grimacing as the pain worsened. I wasted no time in reaching for my belt. I freed my cock and breathed a sigh of relief once I was no longer confined.
I’d spanked and belted the fiery omega, made her come at least a dozen times and my own need was so strong that I could no longer ignore it.
My fingers closed around my thick length, stroking up and down as I thought about what it might feel like to sink my cock into her soaking wet little cunt. I’d been with a few betas in my time, but I’d never had the pleasure of giving an omega the hard claiming she deserved and so sorely needed. I wondered what it would be like.
Would she cry? Would she beg? Would she scream my name as she came all over my cock?
I rolled my upper lip, imagining her naked body bouncing on my thick length, taking me deeper and deeper as she writhed with pleasure. Her sounds still echoed fiercely in my mind, intoxicating moans, screams, and breathy pants that would stay with me for the rest of my days. Her scent still surrounded me, and I drew in a deep breath.
I couldn’t give into instinct like that. I knew that if I ever put my hands on her again, I would fuck her hard. It would be almost impossible to resist the urge to mark her.
Right now, though, she was the only thing on my mind.
I could not claim her as mine, but that didn’t stop me from thinking about her as I stroked my cock, and it most certainly wouldn’t prevent me from imagining her tight little pussy fluttering hard around me with each orgasm I forced her through.
My fingers worked myself vigorously. I groaned as pleasure radiated through me, slowing from time to time so that I could thoroughly enjoy myself as much as possible.
I’d allow this weakness once. I’d stroke my cock as I imagined taking the fierce little omega as mine, over and over again as she broke for me.
With a grunt, I finally allowed myself to come. Pleasure radiated from the base of my spine and traveled up my iron-hard cock until my seed spurted clear into the air. I groaned as one burst after another pelted against the worn wood of the floor and as I gazed down at it, the satisfaction I expected slowly ebbed away, only to be replaced by something else.
Regret.
My seed should be marking any one of her pretty little holes. It was only going to waste there on the floor.
I couldn’t touch her again. Not ever.
There was too much riding on my mission here. I closed my eyes. The Alpha Brotherhood needed me. The world needed me.
If I gave into temptation, it would only result in the death of thousands of people. The Cult of the Blood Moon would reign free, and evil would descend onto the world. There would be no balance. Only chaos.
There was no room for pleasure in that.
This was certainly no time to fall in love either.
* * *
I slept hard that night, feeling more sated than I’d ever been. When I woke, I tried not to think about the fact that I had dreamed about her beautiful body all night. I shook my head and dragged my palm down my face, trying to chase the last dregs of sleep away. I blinked several times and groaned, stretching my arms high over my head.
What I wouldn’t give for a decent cup of coffee right now. Actually, any cup of coffee would do. The breeze up here was cold, and a steaming mug would fend off the chill cutting deep into my bones. With a heavy sigh, I reached into my bag and pulled a few pieces of dried meat instead. Begrudgingly, I took a large bite.
It tasted like sawdust. I wanted to spit it out, but I hadn’t eaten much these past few days in my efforts to catch up with the Recruiter.
As I chewed, I tried to put together everything I’d learned since I’d been here. I felt no closer to finding the cultist than I had a few days ago. I had to forget the omega with the violet eyes and focus on the Recruiter now. It was my only choice.
I finished the dried meat and cleared out a wooden crate full of moth-eaten blankets and stored my white robes inside it. I donned the elegant garb of a noble here in the city center, taking my time to smooth the beige cotton shirt. It had one of those annoying fabric plumes at the chest that needed to be constantly fluffed so that it didn’t wrinkle. I pulled on the leather overcoat and buttoned it closed. When I was done, I descended the back of the temple into a deserted alley and made my way back into the central district.
I’d had my fun last night. It was time to get to work.
I walked the stone streets quickly as though I had somewhere to be, but I was really just observing my surroundings. There was a man peddling tonics for immortal life in front of a cart and there was a swarm of people gathering around him. Priests maneuvered between the buildings, shuffling through as if they owned the place. They were all dressed the same, in white robes with no designation between them. I followed one for a period of time before switching to another, but they seemed to be only running typical errands.
I found myself moving closer to the temple as the day drew on. After a long time of observing the daily routine, I was able to identify one man that all of the others seemed to answer to. His robes were no different than any of the others, but it was him that they came to when they needed to ask about offerings. As the day wore on, I ascertained that they were beginning the preparations for something big. I didn’t yet know what that was, but I wanted to find out.
Just as the sun was beginning to set, I was walking back to the bell tower and ready to call it a night when I caught a flurry of activity out of the side of my eye. All of the white-robed priests rushed to the temple entrance, gathering together in two lines as a caravan of military men escorted an extravagant gold-lined carriage down the street. I leaned against the wall, hidden in the shadow of an alley. The carriage stopped in front of the marble temple and the soldiers moved in closer. A soldier with three red embroidered stripes on his shoulder stepped forward and opened the doors. From my angle, it was difficult to see, but I could glimpse enough to identify the familiar red color of the cultist’s robes.
The Recruiter had gone somewhere either in the city or out of it. To do what, I wasn’t sure. Without a second thought, I drew close enough to a nearby soldier and swiftly pulled him into the alley with me. He didn’t even have a chance to make a sound as I twisted his neck just far enough to knock him out cold.
I stripped him of his clothes and replaced them with mine. As quickly as I could manage, I put on his and used a few short pieces of rope to bind his wrists and ankles. I stuffed a piece of fabric in his mouth to keep him quiet should he wake up anytime soon. There was a tan scarf that wound around my neck and covered much of my face, making this far easier than any other persona I’d have to take on. I smoothed out the beige military outfit, buttoning the thick slacks and long-sleeved shirt as swiftly as I could.
Once I was dressed, I took stock of his weapons.
He was carrying very heavy artillery, the likes that hadn’t been seen since the times of the Great War. Since they had imparted such a heavy death toll so long ago, many cities shunned them in favor of a sword in the midst of battle. This man was carrying a heavy sword that had been slung over his back, as well as two large mechanical cartridges that lay against each side of his waist. As far as I could tell, they were a sort of piston-shot grappling hook system. Perhaps they used them to quickly maneuver to the tops of the walls, but I couldn’t be certain. I’d never seen anything like it before. There were two additional sword handles to either side and when I lifted them clear of their scabbards, the ringing sound of ultra-hard steel was like music to my ears. They were truly a marvel to behold, but there was no time to really admire them. I couldn’t allow the soldier’s absence to be recognized. I had to move. Quickly.
I strapped both weapons to my body and took his place in the lineup.
The soldiers around me made it easy to mimic their behavior. They stood tall with one fist pressed against their chest and once the cultist moved inside, they filed behind him in two parallel lines one after the other. The massive wooden doors closed behind me and I silently listened as the man I’d identified as the head priest and the cultist greeted each other.
The head soldier pointed to me and I stiffened until he singled out several others. I studied him, taking note of his blazing green eyes and his closely shaven head.
“Third Corps, you will follow to the command room and stand guard,” he commanded and the men around me all pounded their chests with their fists. I followed suit and a group of about six of us marched down the hall into a much larger room. We spread out in a larger circle until we were evenly spaced throughout the room.
It was unclear what exactly we were guarding anyone from. To me, it felt as though the city was flexing its power in front of the Recruiter. I traced my fingers along the large rectangular cartridges at my hips. Why were weapons like this required out here? There were no beasts in the wilds that I’d run into, nor any massive armies that might require an arsenal like this.
The Recruiter and the priest filed into the room and took a seat next to each other at one end of a massive oak table.
“The time of the ceremony is drawing close, Recruiter,” the priest murmured.
“It is indeed. I expect to be paid in full before that occurs, my friend,” he answered coolly.
The priest lifted his hand and beckoned another soldier forward. He was dressed identically to me except with a pair of green rectangles on his shoulders where I had none. He carried a rather ostentatious gold-lined chest in his arms. Apparently, it was heavy, because he shuffled forward while clearly struggling to keep it in his grasp. I lifted an eyebrow as he swung it up high enough to place it on the table. The resulting creak from the table under its weight along with the sigh of relief from the soldier was enough to thoroughly stoke my curiosity as to what it contained.
The priest stood up and walked over to it, using a tiny key that was wound round his wrist to open the box. He lifted the top and grinned salaciously before glancing in the Recruiter’s direction.
“Here is your payment, at least in part. Several storage rooms have been put aside especially for you, along with all the records you requested,” he explained, and the cultist nodded expectantly.
“And the archivists? Have they been gathered for my use?” he asked.
“Yes. Our weapon’s development head has been advised to answer to you for as long as necessary, all in return for the prize you brought to our gates,” the priest said excitedly.
The Recruiter stood up and walked over to the chest, surveying the contents. I could see just enough to know that it was filled with enough gold bars that it barely shut.
“There is more here than we originally agreed upon,” he observed.
“The city of Rosethorne wanted to show you how incredibly thankful we are for providing such a rare and wonderful treasure for us. She will afford us many more months of tranquility and that is something that I can’t put a price on,” he murmured. “Consider the extra as a token of our gratitude to you and the Cult of the Blood Moon. Without you, our city would be nothing but crumbling walls.”
My ears perked up. What the hell could they mean?
“I appreciate your offering, and I will make your words known to my superior,” the cultist answered. I stayed quiet as did all the soldiers around me, silent tokens of the city’s power surrounding the two men.
“Will you stay in the barracks during the ceremony?” the priest questioned.
“I plan to stay here as long as I’m able until I’m finished with what I came for,” the Recruiter replied.
“Understood. I’ll have rooms prepared for the rest of your stay. You’ll have your own personal manservant and protective guard if you wish,” the priest offered.
“There’s no need. Just have my rooms cleaned occasionally. That’s all I require,” he responded.
“I’ll see to it that my best and most discreet wait staff are assigned to your wing,” the priest said lightly.
“Good. Now if you could have the chest delivered to my chambers, I’d like to get started on combing through the archives,” the Recruiter demanded.
“As you wish. The people you requested are already waiting for you below.” The priest then pointed to two soldiers and me. “You three will accompany the Recruiter down into the lower bunker. See to it that his work is not disturbed.”
I nodded and pounded my fist against my chest.
