CHAPTER 1

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Sunlight slices through the heavy velvet drapes, cutting a sharp, bright diagonal across the dark mahogany floorboards. Dust motes dance in the beam, swirling in the silence of the King’s chambers. Damien lies sprawled atop the duvet, one arm thrown over his eyes, the sheets tangled around his legs in a careless heap. His breathing is deep and rhythmic, a steady thrum of power that fills the room.

Near the wardrobe, the omega maid moves with practiced silence. He holds a feather duster in a white-knuckled grip, his eyes strictly fixed on the surface of the dresser. He swipes the cloth over the polished wood, his movements stiff and jerky. He risks a quick glance toward the bed, then snaps his head away, staring intently at a carving in the wood grain. The scent of Alpha musk hangs thick in the air, heavy and intoxicating, making the omega’s throat feel tight.

The beam of light shifts, creeping up the mattress and landing directly on Damien’s face. The omega flinches, knowing the King values his sleep. He sets down the duster and creeps toward the window, his heart hammering against his ribs. He reaches for the heavy curtain, his fingers brushing the scratchy fabric. He pulls it shut, plunging the room back into a dim, shadowed twilight.

With the light gone, the omega’s eyes adjust to the gloom. He looks at the bed. Damien’s arm has fallen away, exposing his face. He looks terrifyingly calm, the sharp angles of his jaw softened in sleep, his dark lashes resting against his cheeks. He looks sexy, a raw, primal kind of sexy that makes the omega’s knees tremble. The omega stares, unable to look away, feeling a sudden, magnetic pull in his gut, a phantom hook dragging him toward the mattress.

The mattress dips. Damien’s eyes snap open. They are glowing with a predatory, golden light.

Before the omega can blink, a hand shoots out, gripping his wrist with an iron force. The world spins. A heavy weight settles over him, pinning him to the mattress. Damien cages him, his knees bracketing the omega’s hips, his hands planted on either side of the omega’s head. The omega gasps, his back arching off the bed as he realizes the reality of the situation.

Damien is naked. His skin is hot, radiating a furnace-like heat that seeps through the omega’s thin uniform. And between Damien’s legs, his morning wood stands thick and imposing, a heavy, throbbing length pressing insistently against the omega’s thigh through the fabric of his pants. The omega’s eyes widen, his breath hitching in his throat.

Damien smirks, a slow, arrogant curve of his lips that promises trouble. He shifts his hips, grinding his hard cock against the omega’s leg, letting him feel the sheer size and weight of it. He leans down, his nose brushing the shell of the omega’s ear.

"Do you see something you like?" Damien rumbles, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that the omega feels in his chest. "Or were you planning to touch me while I slept?"

The omega can only stare, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. He feels the thick ridge of Damien’s dick rubbing against his inner thigh, and his body betrays him. He grinds down, a helpless, instinctive roll of his hips seeking friction. He has heard the rumors in the servants’ quarters—whispers about the King’s endowment, the size of his knot, the stamina that leaves omegas unable to walk—but he never imagined it would be this big, this thick, this utterly overwhelming.

"Tell me what you want," Damien commands, his voice dropping an octave. He ducks his head, his lips finding the sensitive skin where the omega’s neck meets his shoulder. He bites down gently, sucking a mark into the flesh.

The omega melts. A high-pitched whine tears from his throat, his eyes rolling back. He can’t form words. The scent of Damien is drowning him, the heat of his body burning him alive. He moans, a desperate, needy sound that echoes in the quiet room.

Damien takes the moan as consent. He grips the omega’s hips and flips him over with a rough, effortless motion. The omega lands on his hands and knees, his ass in the air. Damien tears at the fabric of the maid’s uniform, ripping the pants down to expose the omega’s ass. The omega is already slick, his hole wet and pulsing, begging to be filled.

Damien doesn’t wait. He lines up his massive cock and thrusts forward, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal stroke.

The omega screams. It’s a sharp, piercing sound of shock and overwhelming pleasure. Damien is huge, stretching him wide, filling him until he feels like he might split apart. Damien sets a punishing pace, slamming his hips forward, his balls slapping against the omega’s ass with a wet, rhythmic smack. He grips the omega’s hips hard enough to bruise, using him like a toy, a vessel for his pleasure.

The omega clutches the sheets, his knuckles turning white. He takes it, his body trembling, his hole clenching around the thick invader. Damien grunts, his breath hot on the omega’s back, his movements relentless. He fucks him through the mattress, driving into him with animalistic force.

They go at it for what feels like hours. Damien pulls out only to flip the omega onto his back, then back to his knees, then onto his side. He takes him again and again, five times in total, each round more intense than the last. The omega’s screams turn to hoarse whimpers, his vision blurring. His body is slick with sweat, the sheets soaked beneath them.

Finally, the omega’s eyes roll back, and he goes limp, passing out from the sheer intensity of the pleasure and exhaustion. Damien doesn’t stop immediately, fucking into the unconscious body for a few more thrusts before he groans, spilling his load deep inside the omega’s ass. He pulls out, watching his cum leak out of the gaping, red hole.

Damien climbs off the bed, his chest heaving slightly. He stretches, his muscles rippling under his skin, and walks into the adjoining bathroom. He turns on the gold-plated faucet, stepping into the massive marble tub. He sinks into the steaming water, closing his eyes, letting the heat wash away the sweat and sex.

Twenty minutes later, Damien emerges, a towel wrapped around his waist. He walks back into the bedroom. The omega is still on the bed, but he’s awake. He’s curled in a fetal ball, trembling, his eyes wide and terrified as he watches Damien approach.

Damien stands at the foot of the bed, his expression cold and unreadable. He straightens his posture, his eyes flashing with Alpha authority.

"Get out," Damien says, his voice laced with the power of the Alpha command. It vibrates in the air, undeniable and terrifying. "Get out before I tear you apart."

The omega scrambles backward, falling off the bed in his haste. He lands on the floor with a thud but doesn’t seem to care the pain. He grabs his torn uniform, clutching it to his chest. He is shaking so hard he can barely stand. The Alpha command presses down on him, crushing his will, filling him with primal fear.

He scurries across the floor, gathering his shoes and his cleaning supplies. He doesn’t dare look at Damien again. He rushes to the door, fumbling with the handle before bursting into the hallway. He runs, his bare feet slapping against the stone, fleeing the King’s presence as if the hounds of hell are snapping at his heels.

Damien watches him go, his face impassive. Once the door clicks shut, he turns away. He walks to the dressing chamber. The Alpha King wore a fitted black tunic embroidered with silver tribal patterns and a dark fur-lined cloak draped over his shoulders. A leather belt decorated with wolf fangs rested at his waist, while sturdy leather boots completed his commanding look. A simple silver crown marked his status as ruler of the pack. He dresses efficiently, his movements precise and controlled.

A knock sounds at the door. It’s a sharp, rhythmic rap.

"Enter," Damien calls, buttoning the cuffs of his shirt.

The door opens, and his beta Kai strides in. Kai is wore a fitted brown leather tunic with dark trousers and sturdy boots. He bows his head respectfully, his demeanor professional.

"Alpha," the beta says, his voice brisk. "The Council is waiting for your presence in the main hall. You have a meeting regarding the border disputes in twenty minutes. But first, the family is assembled in the dining hall for breakfast."

Damien adjusts his collar, catching his reflection in the mirror. He looks calm, collected, and utterly in control. There is no trace of the morning’s activities left in his eyes.

"Very good," Damien says, turning toward the door. "I will join them."