MY ALPHA'S RUT

BAIKAL

My ruts were equal to madness, a sex-starved, lust-crazed madness. It came earlier than it ought to have, but I can't deny my mood had been foul all week. I had no desire to mate… but this once, I felt my hunger sated.

 Days early. Again. I smashed a glass against the wall when the first wave hit, then nearly thrown a physician out of my chambers for telling me to remain calm. 

 Calm?!.

 The word alone had nearly earned him a broken jaw. My ruts had grown unpredictable over the years, arriving without warning and leaving destruction in their wake. The physicians had tried everything, but none of them had found an Omega whose pheromones could settle the madness inside me.

My tongue glided off his lips as I drank in his taste, my teeth grazing over his lip. He pressed his palms against my chest, but I couldn't stop, my primal instincts pushing harder than they ever had, pressed against him, my tongue catching droplets of blood where I'd bitten him, tasting, sucking. More. I wanted more.

His knee shoved rough into my cock. I snarled up, the pain giving him a few seconds to stagger away from me. He was panting heavily, the same crazed look in his eyes mirroring mine. I let my tongue trail over my lips again, sizing him up completely. He looked distraught, confused and scared, he ought to be… I wasn't a good person. And seeing how he was dressed in a uniform, he was one of my cadets — with those ranks? I was surprised. He was young, right around my age, and to have earned that rank was impressive.

 He recovered his footing and immediately raised his hands into a defensive stance. His gaze darted toward the door, then returned to me, calculating the distance between us. He was looking for an escape, not an opportunity to surrender.

My temper snapped. Even now, with fear written across his face, he was assessing me like an opponent on the training grounds. I was his king, yet he was preparing to fight me again. The audacity should have made me furious. It did make me furious. So why couldn't I stop watching him?

Most people knew better than to challenge me when my rut was at its worst. Zephyr knew I was dangerous, yet he still treated me like an opponent he could defeat. I should have wanted to crush that defiance. Instead, I found myself curious about what he would do next.

I took three strides closer to him. He refused to flinch, though every wisp of him was filled with fear. He had balls.

"Why is an Omega in a cadet uniform trying to steal from my royal palace?" I asked, a low huff in my tone as I inched closer to him. He shoved his palm into my chest again, only this time I didn't budge.

"Stop calling me that like it's all I am," he snapped. His voice shook, but he didn't take the words back. "I'm a cadet. I earned my rank. You don't get to erase that because I've presented."

 My jaw tightened. The pressure behind my eyes surged, and for a second, I wanted to smash something just to silence the irritation crawling under my skin. He was terrified of me, yet he still had enough nerve to argue. I couldn't decide whether I wanted to punish his defiance or hear what he'd say next.

I grabbed at his jaw again, harsher this time, my slick leaking, his scent filling the room, it was doing me in. He didn't smell like flowers. He smelled like burnt honey and gunmetal… blood orange and steel.

 I inhaled sharply. His scent cut through the thick cloud of my pheromones instead of disappearing beneath it. I drew another breath before I could stop myself.

What the hell was wrong with this Omega?

My rut had reduced trained guards to trembling wrecks. Some couldn't even approach my chambers without staggering away, gasping for air. Yet this cadet was still on his feet. His breathing was uneven, his face pale, but his eyes remained fixed on mine.

"I'm no thief, your majesty." He bit back, looking irritated that I'd even suggested him a mere thief. He was arrogant and feral. This one.

"Then why the hell are you in my bathhouse? In a lockdown, knowing full well the Alpha King is in heat." I muttered, letting my fingers stroke his face. He dropped his head, like he thought not looking at him would ease it, near too much for him, but he was too proud to admit it.

His own cock was jutting, hiding a tent in his pants, but I refrained from mentioning it, either.

"It was a mistake, I shouldn't be here. I'll stay away from you, your majesty." He spoke, but there was no way out. It was a standard twelve-hour protocol. He was stuck with me and knew it. Until my bloodlust was brought under control, the whole palace would remain in lockdown. My pheromones were far too strong for anyone to inhale — and yet this one, he was still standing. Impressive.

 The lockdown wasn't an exaggeration. During my worst ruts, I barely remembered what I'd said or done. Doors were sealed, corridors emptied, and guards waited for orders from a safe distance. The palace had learned to prepare for the worst because nobody could predict how far my bloodlust would take me.

"Hey,this cheap suppressant stuff. It smells disgusting, but I love your scent.." I mused, grabbing his neck in a chokehold, pinning his back against the wall while he glared.

His hands clamped around my wrist. He twisted hard, trying to break my grip, then drove his shoulder forward to force me to shift my footing. Even trapped against the wall, he kept fighting.

"I… I cannot, your majesty. I'd rather you get a female Omega that can be trusted." He stuttered, the fear rolling off him in even bigger waves. He was scared.

A dark bark of laughter coursed through my lungs, and I licked at him.

 He jerked his face away. My laughter died abruptly, and my fingers tightened before I caught myself. I wasn't accustomed to being refused. I was even less accustomed to wanting someone's attention badly enough to become angry when I didn't get it.

I pressed my body against his, our cocks lined up together as I dragged my hands to his trousers. He let out a shaky breath as I stroked his cock through his clothes.

“I'm never this gentle with anyone, but you're clearly newly presented. Your scent is still unstable. So, a late differentiator, I'd bet. And with your rank — did you come in here to steal my suppressants, Omega?”

He snarled, he didn’t like being called an omega, hatred flashing in his eyes and I felt the sharp sting of a blade dragging through my chest. Blood sprung out. He yanked away, causing me to stagger sideways, a laugh caught in my throat.

I looked at the blood on my skin, then at the blade in his hand.

He had wounded his king.

For a moment, the room went silent. Then I laughed again, the sound harsher this time. My guards would have paid dearly for less, but this cadet stood there ready to strike again. I was furious. I was also unwilling to look away from him.

"And here I was trying to be nice… I love blood play. Might as well be flirting with me." I spoke, my rut hitting me with intensity, fierce again. A dark smile dragged off my lips as I yanked the sheer fabric covering my body off. My cock sprang free.

Standing proud and thick, judging by his wide eyes dropping toward the sheer thing, I knew he had just gotten the shock of his life. I was thick and long… huge enough that it was no small feat. But It wasn't just the length that had him shaking, it was the base already swelling thick, a knot forming even before I'd touched him. He knew what I had in mind for him. There was no way he'd be walking for days.

"You've assaulted a King, the penalty is death, but here I am being nice to you… ha. I don't have much time to waste." I blurted out.

He glared hard at me, standing on his feet behind, locked in a defensive stance… cute.

"Then punish me," he shot back. "Or let me leave. I'm not going to beg you."

 I yanked at his arm. He stumbled forward, but I pressed on, mine already licking a long stripe from his face down to his neck, my nose drinking him in.

He mewled, a slow moan yet snarl slipping free from his lips as yanked himself off  my hands. I tilted my head, my confusion seeing his sudden bliss. His face was flushed, sweat coating his skin.

Then I caught the whiff of slick. His knees buckled as he ground harder against me. His head bent against my neck.

"Hey… what's going on with you? This same strong scent…"

I stopped, thrown off by the sudden change. Moments earlier, he'd been fighting me with everything he had. Now his breathing had changed, and his scent had grown so strong that it cut through the haze of my rut. 

He looked down at himself, confusion giving way to visible frustration. When he tried to steady his breathing, his body refused to cooperate. He looked furious about it, as though I  were another opponent he could force into submission if he only fought hard enough. 

I searched his face, but he seemed just as confused as I was.

He had gone into heat. Had I triggered it?