OMEGA IN HEAT

EVREN

Every eye in the throne room had turned in Evren’s direction at the announcement of the crown collector. He could feel the weight of their curious gazes and the unspoken judgements drifting through the air as he was presented to the Lycan Crown.

The king’s gaze on Evren had become a heavy weight, thick with the scent of cedar and scorched pine. The king’s pheromones had become a suffocating blanket of burnt wood that heralded the king’s dominance into every crevice of Evren’s gland.

“Leave us!” The king’s command resounded through the throne hall like a thunderclap. Within seconds, the throne hall emptied, leaving Evren standing with trembling knees before the Lycan Crown, every instinct in his body screaming for him to run, yet his feet remained rooted to the cold marble floor.

There was no escape for him, nowhere to run or hide, and Evren was smart enough to know this. He knew his fate was sealed and nothing would stop what was to come. It was either death or a lifetime stuck with this terrifying shadow looming over him as nothing more than a sex slave.

He had spent the past two days wallowing in misery and despair. Asking deities who didn’t exist why he was born, if only to suffer so much. He knew there was no one out there to answer his questions, but being stuck in a carriage in the cold snow, travelling on an empty stomach, could do things to you.

Back in StoneRidge, Evren had accepted his life for what it was and never thought to ask questions that would go unanswered, not to deities or gods who thought it was okay to take both parents from him and render him an orphan at such an early age. And now Evren knew if he were to keep his sanity intact while stuck in this new reality, wallowing wouldn’t do him any good.

Escaping the Lycan Crown wasn’t an option. He had neither the strength to run nor the skill set required for him to survive out in the wild alone as an omega. He also knew begging wasn’t going to get him out of this situation either. King Lachlan hadn’t even bothered to ask the emissaries why they brought back an omega as payment instead of his gold. Which could only mean the Lycan Crown already knew of what purpose Evren would be.

The weight on Evren’s neck eased a moment, the shadowed hand pressing on his glands leaving him for a second, and Evren’s head dropped low from holding it up for so long. His eyes lowered voluntarily, his entire frame trembling as his knees threatened to betray him. Evren’s body fought to hold him up; the tremors were all from a series of things: the sheer exhaustion from the trip, his hunger, and the fear weighing down on his soul.

And whatever barriers were keeping Evren’s heat at bay were crumbling with a speed that Evren couldn’t understand. The king had risen from the skull throne, his scent now a predatory musk of earthy smoke. Evren didn’t know Alphas could change scent so easily.

That weighted blanket of suffocation had returned, pressing down on Evren with a pressure that made his stomach quiver. The Lycan Crown took a step forward, his boots silent against the marble floor. The air between them hummed with an invisible, frantic static that made Evren’s heart stutter in panic.

Evren had thought for a moment he could control how he reacted to the king’s presence and obvious dominance, but rationality had nothing against the force of smoky pheromones that charred through his scent gland like acid. It frayed Evren’s mind in every capacity.

“Look at me,” the Lycan Crown commanded, his voice a low growl that vibrated through Evren’s marrow.

There was no denying the Alpha’s authority. Evren raised his gaze, teary amethyst eyes clashing with the king’s glacial greys that danced like molten silver. “You… why do you smell like that?”

The Lycan Crown questioned his eyes, laden with hunger, as he closed the distance between them.

Evren’s world tilted as a wave of liquid fire surged from the base of his spine. He felt the heat sear through his blood, burning through every barrier that had kept him standing until this very moment. A heady wave of King Lachlan’s cedar and an intoxicating, sharp, crisp scent pressed against his glands—it was the unmistakable aroma of sun-warmed pine, releasing an overwhelming, sweet balsamic pheromone that encased every pulsing nerve in Evren’s body.

Beneath his skin, Evren’s own scent gland throbbed to life, aching for something permanent, something claiming. Evren had no time to fathom the undoing taking place within him. King Lachlan’s overpowering presence was a visceral awakening to the moon-born blood running through Evren’s veins. It was as though the moon had been waiting for this moment, as though Evren’s body had taken pity on him in the past seven years, waiting for this moment because this was nothing compared to what Evren had felt before.

His body surged into a spontaneous, violent heat. Evren mewled, his eyes widened as his own scent—a heady mixture of rain-drenched earth and blooming wisteria—erupted from his pores just seconds before a sudden, heavy rush of slick travelled down his thighs.

The effect on the King was instantaneous. Lachlan’s breath hitched, and a sound that was half a growl and half something beyond animalistic tore out of him.

The Lycan Crown felt as though he had been transported beneath a cascading canopy of purple blooms. The wisteria in Evren’s scent hit King Lachlan with an intensely sweet, heavy floral aroma with a distinct undertone of honey. Evren’s pheromones thickened the air with heady vanilla-based musk mixed with a spiciness that made the king feel dizzy.

The king’s once composed form disintegrated, his pupils blew wide, swallowing the irises as his rut tore through his defences. 

A forced rut. Something the Lycan Crown had never experienced before.

The force is raw, unbidden and ferocious. He staggered into Evren, a snarl on his lips as his hands clasped around the omega’s shoulders. “What… What are you doing to me?” Lachlan hissed, his voice strained.

Evren’s mind had become a white-hot fog as his legs finally gave way. One touch from the king was all it took to bring the omega to his knee, and he crumbled into the king, whose hands immediately snagged Evren’s waist.

“Please…” Evren moaned. The omega had no idea what he was begging for—to be unhanded by the king. —That would probably kill him because the need warring through Evren’s body right now is blinding. He would rather not have the king touch him if he had a choice.

But Evren didn’t have a choice, nor did the Lycan Crown, whose arousal permeated the air as every rush of slick that gushed down Evren’s thigh abused his nose and clouded his senses. Lachlan’s rut and Evren’s heat danced in sync to the rhythm of nature, to the orchestra of fate that placed them both in this moment.

The sound that came out of Lachlan was the sound of pure agony and desperation for need as his cock filled up with blood and his erection strained against the royal slacks.

Permission was neither to be given nor granted, because whatever the Lycan Crown wanted, he took. Evren’s eyes opened for a slight moment as King Lachlan pulled him towards the dais. The clothes on Evren’s body were nothing but cheap rags that came off with ease as the king ripped them apart.

He shoved Evren against the ornate, carved wood without finesse. The omega huffed a painful whine as he fell onto his stomach. A failed attempt to push himself up ended with the King’s hand snaking around Evren’s waist and unceremoniously hauling him on all fours, eyes greedily drinking in the sight of the leaking hole presented before him.

“By the gods…” Lachlan growled as he scrambled for the hook of his slacks. The Lycan Alpha freed his cock in a matter of seconds. A frenzied haze clouded his senses as the spiciness of wisteria encompassed him everywhere.

He pressed close, ridding the gap between their bodies as his forehead came to rest against Evren’s neck for a second. “You have no idea what you’ve invited, have you, omega, leaking all over yourself like a needy whore,” the King murmured against his skin, his teeth grazing the pulse point.

The spike in the king’s scent was all the warning Evren got before he felt the splitting pain of Lachlan’s cock breaching him as the king slammed home with one powerful thrust that propelled Evren’s body.

Evren’s eyes snapped open, and his mouth widened as a scream of pure agony and terror tore out of his throat.