Savage Prince by Alison Aimes
7
“I’m fine, Damien, calm down.” Skolov’s voice was measured. Almost proper. Nothing like the beast who’d spanked, fingered, and fucked her, taking her virginity in a dingy auction room. “How are you and the crew?”
“We have a few injured,” responded the voice. “Nothing too serious.”
“Good. What’s your location?”
“Where you told us to be.” The other male’s voice was tight with frustration. “Outside the building. Awaiting your orders. Trying not to lose our shit while you refused to answer your comms.”
“I apologize.” Skolov cleared his throat.
A spurt of shame shot through her. It was all so new; it took her an instant to realize it came from the Alpha and not her. She would never have guessed from the lack of expression on his face he was experiencing such an emotion. But she felt it. Deep in her belly.
“There was a . . . complication,” he continued.
“A complication?” The male called Damien sounded shocked. “I thought each of your plans had complications built-in.”
Skolov’s gaze flickered to her. “Not this one.”
Her gaze narrowed.
“What about the targets?” He spoke into the comms once more.
A long silence. Then, “In the wind, as far as we can tell.”
“Hells.” A muscle jumped in the Alpha’s jaw.
She fought to keep her expression blank.
“But there was some good news,” said the other male. “They ran so fast they didn’t take everything with them. We came upon some guards and some omegas in cages from the main room whose collars indicate they are Aldar’s property. We have them.”
Her stomach twisted. She didn’t know those omegas well. Aldar kept her and his other specialized possession, including his army of thieves, separate from his regular stable of omega whores, but she felt for them nonetheless.
She wanted to ask about her friends, but she didn’t want to call attention to them if they hadn’t been caught.
“Now it’s your turn, brother,” demanded another deep voice. “What kept you?”
Skolov paused. “I found the individual responsible for the auction deaths.”
Her heart beat faster.
“Finally, some good news,” said the voice. “I know you said we’re passing them onto the Brotherhood, but we should get a turn with them first.”
Her stomach dropped. So that was the plan all along.
“I’ve had a turn.” Skolov’s hungry gaze bore into her.
She shivered.
“Excellent,” said the voice. “Are they maimed or near-death?”
Skolov scowled. “Not exactly.”
“So, bloodied then?”
His gaze drifted down her body.
It took her a moment to realize he was staring at a thin red smear on the inside of her thigh. Virgin blood, mixed with slick and cum.
“A little.” He sounded smug.
“I’ll make it a lot,” said the deeper of two voices. “We’ll get the information we need out of this new player. No matter what it takes.”
“You’re not going anywhere near her.” The menace in Skolov’s voice took her by surprise.
“Her?” echoed through the comms.
Skolov’s gaze bore into her once more. “Yes, her. And no one will lay a finger on her but me. I don’t share. Ever.”
Confusion swept through her. Was he actually suggesting he intended to keep her as his exclusive property? She’d never met an Alpha who would do such a thing. Then again, she’d never imagined an Alpha who would respond to having a weapon drawn on him by spanking and then fucking her until she screamed with pleasure.
None of this made sense.
Skolov cleared his throat. “There is a . . . situation. The killer who took out the Brotherhood members is not a he, but a she. A violet-eyed, dark-haired omega with blue streaks in her hair.”
Silence. No one on the other side of the comms uttered a word.
Despite her still stinging bottom, she lifted her chin in challenge. First, she was a complication and now a situation? Well, he was a flipping, confusing nightmare—one she was ready to wake up from.
His gaze narrowed. “I don’t like what I’m sensing from you, omega. It doesn’t feel like acceptance.”
Anger made her bold. “Does it feel like outright hostility?”
He surprised her with a smile. “Fuck. I like your spirit.”
The compliment caught her by surprise. So, too, did the shift in the Alpha’s mood.
This unpredictable male went from ice cold to red hot in a heartbeat. And some foolish part of her liked that she’d managed to surprise him. That he almost sounded pleased with her refusal to be cowed.
Lust exploded between them.
“I will do better. I will do better.” His mutterings were faint, but she heard them nonetheless.
Her lips curved upward.
Oh, no, no, no. She caught herself.
She wasn’t some foolish, sheltered omega. She knew the score—and the score with someone like Maxheim Skolov would always be Alpha Mafia Royalty 100, her 0.
He was entitled. Dominant. Groomed to rule. There was no going up against someone like him and coming out the victor. She’d end up even more broken than she already was, Rav would end up dead, and the young omegas she’d vowed to protect would be adrift without her there to act as a buffer and guard them from Aldar or some other predator’s worst intentions.
She could not allow that to happen.
Rearranging her expression, she vanquished her smile and scowled at Skolov instead.
He read her renewed resistance loud and clear.
Nostrils flaring, he scooped her covering off the ground and tossed it to her. “Cover yourself.”
Another one-hundred-and-eighty-degree shift in mood.
Too thankful to be annoyed, she caught the fabric to her chest and then wrapped it around her hips.
“This too.”
She looked up. He was holding out something, but it didn’t register. Her stare had gotten caught on the chiseled perfection of his chest and the slabs of bisected muscle that ended in a deep V before disappearing beneath the waistband riding low on his hips.
Gods, he was beautiful.
Heat bloomed in her belly.
“Like anything in particular?” It was the smug amusement in his tone that pulled her from her stare.
Hells. He’d caught her drooling.
Her cheeks warmed despite herself. “No.”
“So, it all meets your satisfaction.”
Could he actually be teasing her? It couldn’t be.
Flustered, she reached for his offering before she even realized what it was.
He’d given her his vest.
Surprised, she wrapped it around her, the scent of him, frost and power, making her feel surprisingly warm. The vest was nicer and heavier than anything she was usually allowed to wear. It took her a moment to find her voice past the thickness. “Thank you.”
His eyes blazed red. “You will wear my clothes from now on.”
More commands, more orders. But she didn’t hate this one.
The dangerous heat between them burned hotter, threatening to drag her under once more.
“Maxheim?” The voice from the comms blared loud. “You’re not fucking with us, are you? Your voice definitely sounds as if you’re entering rut.”
“You’d know,” said the second voice through the comms.
“Shut the hells up, Damien.”
“You shut up, Alexi.”
Tess’s eyes flared in surprise. Were there two Alphas on the other side of the comms actually bickering?
Brothers.Skolov mouthed the single word to her while shaking his head in exasperation.
The act sent her reeling.
He’d spoken to her as if she was a person rather than a piece of property.
He’d given her clothing as if she was more than a thing to be ogled.
No one besides Rav and her charges had treated her that way in a very long time.
Breathing hard, she tried to shut down her reaction, but it was difficult.
Especially as Skolov’s irritation and impatience flowed through their bond and into her, along with his deep affection for the two males. He might not like it, but his brothers were stitched into the fiber of his being, as essential to his survival as the rest of his organs.
She hadn’t known family could care about each other like that.
Or that aspects of this golden-eyed male would appeal to her so much.
She’d hated everything about Aldar, Nils, and the other Alphas who’d bid on her. But this male wasn’t making it so easy.
She was in trouble.
He growled low. “Omega.”
She looked up. His nostrils were flared, his gaze streaked red. “Think of other things. Or for our second round, you’ll end up fucked and knotted on that dirty mattress.”
She shivered and blanked her thoughts.
Thankfully, he returned to his comms.
“I’ll fill you in when we meet up,” he told his brothers. “In the meantime, start working your way through Aldar’s guards and omegas. Someone will know something useful. I want Byrel and the slaver found.”
“Wait. Please.” She couldn’t help herself. “Those omegas have done nothing wrong. They’re innocent and likely scared. Whatever Aldar was up to, he kept them in the dark. I swear it.”
Skolov studied her.
She held her breath.
Finally, he spoke. “Alexi, you deal with the omegas. Take half the crew.” His gaze bore into hers. “The less scary half. Get the omegas out of the cages and on board the shuttle. Give them medical supplies. Food. We’ll question them—gently—once they’ve had time to settle in.”
Relief and gratitude slammed through her. Surprise, too. No one had listened to her in a very long time.
The foolish organ inside her chest warmed.
There was a long pause on the other end of the comms, then, “On it.”
“Damien, you deal with the guards. We can use the auction back rooms to…” his gaze flickered to her once more, “talk to them.”
Interrogate. Torture. She knew exactly what it was Skolov was attempting to sugarcoat.
“Will do. And you?”
“I’ll join you shortly.” Skolov’s frown deepened. “I’ve got to deal with something and then I’ll come to you.”
Her stomach heaved, her emotions catapulting in the other direction. Oh, gods. There was always a cost, wasn’t there?
He was leaving the omegas alone because he expected to get the information out of her. And though he’d been shockingly restrained with her until now—even while he’d fucked and knotted her—she doubted that would continue once he learned she refused to give up any information that might lead him to Rav Byrel.
Determined, she opened her mouth to tell him exactly that. Only she never got the chance.
Without warning, he pounced.
And the craziest part?
Her body was only half terrified. The other half applauded as if, in his arms, was exactly where she was always supposed to be.
* * *
Surging forward,Maxheim grabbed his omega.
Dragging her against him, he pressed another set of buttons on his comms.
He’d smelled the intruders in the hall before he heard them.
Not his men, but here to kill nonetheless. He’d scented it easily on their skin.
The Alpha in him wanted to fight, but there was always the danger she’d be hit by a stray laser. That he could not allow.
Thanks to his comms, the air around him and Tess shimmered. That was one of the benefits of being the top arms distributor in the galaxy—and an inventor. You got all the good toys first and kept the best ones for yourself.
“What—”
He clamped a hand over her mouth. “Shhh.” He knew she had no clue what his tech could do. “Someone’s coming.” He pressed his mouth against her ear. “They can’t see us unless we move.”
His cock swelled as she melted against him. He fucking loved her surrender and the feel of her body against his. Breathing through his mouth, he fought the rutting urge.
Breathe. Control. He’d been using that damned mantra effectively for as long as he could remember. It wasn’t working so well now.
Two sets of footsteps echoed in the corridor, the new arrivals’ voices easy to hear.
“Any sign of him?” The first male sounded nervous.
“None.” The second male was less fearful. “Byrel has squirmed away again.”
The omega stilled against him, the pulse of concern that shimmered through her at the sound of that fucker’s name pushing Maxheim’s fangs hard against his gums.
He trapped in a growl.
He fucking hated her loyalty to that bastard.
“The boss is not going to be happy.” The first guy spoke again. “He wants the fucker dead yesterday. All loose ends tied up, liability handled.”
“It was the riot. Not us. We barely made it out alive,” declared the second guy. “The boss is just lucky we were able to hide out in one of the side rooms until things quieted.”
The door slid open, and the two males entered.
Luckily, the distorter worked, cloaking Maxheim and the omega in plain sight, blurring their bodies with the wall so it looked like they were one and the same.
Beneath his hold, the omega barely breathed.
She was a survivor through and through. He liked that.
“Holy shit.” The masked males moved deeper into the room, weapons at the ready as they surveyed the scene. Their nondescript uniforms, tactical gloves, and helmets made it impossible to discern any skin designs that might have helped Maxheim identify for whom these males worked.
A comms crackled.
“Sir,” the first guy spoke, his voice tight with nerves. “Byrel is nowhere to be found.”
The voice on the other side cursed. “And the omega?”
Maxheim saw red.
He didn’t recognize the voice—they were using a voice distorter—but whoever they were, by hunting for his omega, they’d just guaranteed their death.
“Not here, sir,” responded one of the males.
“Are you sure you’re in the right place?”
“Yes, sir. It’s the private room. Her cage is still here, but she’s not.” The would-be assassin nudged something on the ground. “Her collar has been ripped off. There’s just a lot of dead body parts.”
“She’ll still have her tracker,” said the voice. “Any sign of who took her? Could it have been . . . a Skolov?”
Maxheim’s gaze narrowed. Who the fuck was on the other side of that comms?
“A Skolov?” The soldier sounded gratifyingly terrified. “W-Why would the Skolov family be involved in this? You didn’t mention anything about the Brotherhood. You said it was a simple snatch and grab.”
“You want your money? You have your orders. Find and kill Byrel. Or capture the omega and bring her to me. That’s the only way you’re getting paid.”
The comms blinked off.
Maxheim didn’t hesitate.
With a roar, he pushed Tess to safety and leapt forward.
The killers were still grumbling to themselves as he attacked.
In a blur of teeth and claws, he ripped the first male’s throat wide.
He grabbed the other male, gorging him in the stomach with his horn to disable, but not kill. Not yet, at least.
“Who sent you?” Maxheim shook the male.
The male gasped, terror glittering in his gaze. He clamped his jaw shut, his teeth smashing together.
“No!” Maxheim tried to shove the male’s jaw open.
But it was too late.
The male’s eyes turned putrid green. Poison. From a capsule hidden in a fang.
He’d killed himself rather than talk.
Breathe. Control.The self-restraint that had always been so easy for Maxheim to employ took another hit as he wondered over what this new wrinkle meant for his omega’s safety.
“We need to go.” He didn’t scent any other killers, but they’d outstayed their welcome nonetheless. He surveyed the room. “Is there anything here you need to take with you?” He didn’t see a damned thing worth preserving, but since she was never fucking coming back here, it seemed like a reasonable question to ask.
Silence.
He finally turned to look at her.
Eyes wild, her gaze was still locked on the male who’d killed himself.
“No one is going to hurt you, omega. Especially not me.”
Her eyes only widened further. He could tell she was still trying to absorb the full extent of trouble she was in, not just from him or the Brotherhood, but now from this new source as well.
Her panic clawed at him.
He snarled—and then caught himself.
She backed up more.
Fuck. He definitely needed to talk to the doc and get himself in check. Him, out of control wasn’t good for anyone.
“We need to go.”
She looked close to falling apart. And so fragile. Something inside his chest went tight.
Until she whirled and took off running.
It was easy to see her intent.
Sprinting through the now open door, she slammed her palm onto the lock panel, sending the door sliding shut behind her, buying herself time to run and hide.
Except that would never happen.
He ripped the door from its hinges and tossed it over his head.
Whirling, she turned to stare in horror.
“Omega.” He stalked toward her, his voice heavy with lust and aggression. “You run . . . I chase. Always.”