Alphas of Pandora, page 15
“You didn’t have to bring me here, to your palace. You could have let me go after we were rescued.”
“And what was my other option? Turn you loose in the streets with no knowledge of this world or even an ability to speak the language? Don’t be ridiculous.”
Frustration mounted within her. “So you don’t want me, but you won’t let me go. Where does that leave me?’
“I never said that I didn’t want you,” he snapped, the words spat out before he’d thought them through. “But I have always sworn never to take an Omega for mate. Claiming you publicly would undermine everything that I’ve worked for. The mark on your body makes me a hypocrite.”
Aura swallowed hard, anger and a strange sympathy swirling through her. “So I’m your dirty little secret? Hide me away to rot, so no one will know what you’ve done?”
“Enough.” In a flurry of violent movement, Castor hit the wall behind her with his fist, nostrils flaring as he took harsh breaths in and out. He didn’t speak again until he had regained control of his temper, backing away. “I am trying to do what I can to keep you safe. Stop fighting me.”
She hadn’t shown him anything close to a fight. “Where are you taking me?”
Resigned, he gestured at the long dress she wore. It was white, decorated at the waist and hem with golden cord, and moved around her legs as she walked. It had been the only garment in the room after she had woken that morning and she had put the thing on without questioning it.
He touched the golden cord at her waist for a brief moment before pulling his hand away. “This color is designated only for Omegas who are part of the King’s Harem.” His tone seemed almost apologetic, but the steely look in his eyes brooked no argument.
“Harem?” It wasn’t a word that she would have known prior to arriving in this terrible place, but the translation unit aided her in understanding, even if the concept was unfamiliar. “So I’m not good enough for you, but you have no problem putting me into service for others?”
“King Rolan is feeble and out of his mind most days. You’ll likely never be in arms reach of him, much less in his bed.”
“But you won’t be around to know for sure.”
The low growl that seeped from between his lips was more animal than human. “If any man touches you, I will put him death with my own hands. Even the King.”
So now she understood why he had taken her on such a long and unnecessary tour of the palace, giving the servants time to prepare her place here. She would not be returning to her old room in the east wing.
“And if I refuse?”
His lips thinned. “I’m not giving you a choice.”
“I could run.”
“Where?” One eyebrow rose in mockery. “I’d be impressed if you managed to find your way out of the palace, much less any further.”
It was impossible to ignore the fact that the winding halls of the palace were a veritable maze. She would need hours of wandering just to retrace her steps to the room where she had slept for the last several nights.
Angry tears burned at the corners of her eyes. “I hate you.”
“That’s for the best,” he said with a nod. “You will stay here in the harem with my father’s Omega’s. He’s been impotent for years so he’ll be no danger to you. I’ll ensure that you have a room of your own.”
He turned and started back down the hallway, not bothering to so much as glance back to see if she followed him. Aura had no choice really but to go with him, unless she wanted to stay leaning against the door like a petulant child. She dragged her feet, but eventually caught up with him as he had slowed down to accommodate her.
“If there is anything that you need, alert a servant and they will pass the message on to me.”
“How long will I have a stay here?”
“Until I can think of something better.” Castor hesitated at a large set of doors that were nearly twice as tall as he was. “You won’t be permitted to leave the harem pavilion without an escort, but I’ve arranged for a visitor to come sit with you later for entertainment. She will be familiar with your true history, anyone else should only hear the story that we concocted.”
Aura didn’t bother to ask who the visitor was because she was beyond caring. There was nothing he could offer her at this point that made this situation any different from what it was. She was a prisoner, and always would be if he got his way.
When they entered the pavilion, she did not react. Although, the place was not how she’d imagined it. A large pool with crystal blue water sat in the center of a large room, decorated with carpets and large pillows on the floor around its edge. Women lounged in various stages of undress, but most did not so much as lift their heads as they entered. Many smaller doors surrounded the pool, some of which were open, private bedrooms visible within.
A servant came quickly to Castor’s side, and they spoke in low murmurs.
“Your room will be this one on the left,” Castor said, barely looking at her as he began to back up towards the main entrance. “I have business to attend to, but I’ll try to make time to check in with you in the next few days.”
Aura did not look at him as he turned and left the pavilion, footsteps muffled by the carpeted floor. The bond pulled at her chest, sending flashes of pain and longing through her as he left her alone. She wished that she could take a knife and cut his mark out of her skin, as if that would do anything to separate them from each other.
But even with that, she couldn’t fight off the memory of his hands on her skin and the pleasure that he had wrung from her willing body.
She wished she had the strength to escape him.
Nineteen
Most of the other women in the pavilion ignored her.
It didn’t take long for Aura to notice that her meager belongings had been moved to her new room in the harem. She couldn’t fight the impression that Castor had left her there to rot. But she could only wonder at the circumstances that had brought these other women here.
She was alone in her room when the first one approached. Although the door was cracked partially open, which may have invited more attention than Aura would have otherwise preferred.
“Knock knock.” A beautiful dark-skinned woman with almond eyes and a cheerful smile poked her head in the open doorway. “You’re new.”
Aura sat up quickly from the bed. “Who are you?”
If the newcomer was put off by her rude tone, little emotion was revealed on her otherwise expressive face. “My name is Dharia. Everyone is abuzz about you, we rarely see new faces here.”
“If you say so.” Over the woman’s shoulder, Aura could see a handful of women lounging around the shallow pool. None of them so much as looked in her direction, much less seemed “abuzz” at having her there. “I’m Aura.”
Dharia swept into the room on a wave of flowing fabric and faint perfume that reminded Aura of the forest of the Forbidden Zone. “Boredom makes them slow, everyone will be along to greet you eventually.”
“There doesn’t seem to be much to do here.”
“You get used to it. Occasionally, we’ll be allowed into the library and there are a few game boards in the corner there.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“But if you want a true diversion,” Dharia’s voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. “You have to bribe the guards into giving you a bottle of rotgut liquor they drink. It won’t make the time pass any faster, but it won’t matter to you as much.”
Being drunk out of her mind was the last thing Aura wanted to contend with. “No, thank you.”
Dharia’s eyebrows went up, expression sardonic. “You might feel differently when you’re being called to serve. You’ll find no other sort of peace here.”
“What do you mean serve? I thought the King was no longer capable of performing.”
“It isn’t the King that you should worry about.” Dharia’s stared off into space for a moment, as if she were picturing something far away or from the recent past. “No one pays much attention to who comes and goes here. Some members of the court have taken advantage of the King’s inattention.”
A chill worked its way down Aura’s spine. Castor had assured her that she would be safe here and had seemed convinced of it himself. “Why haven’t you told anyone?”
The other woman scoffed. “Who would we tell? King Rolan can barely remember what happens from one moment to the next. Don’t worry, that sort of thing doesn’t happen often.”
With each passing moment, Aura fervently wished herself back home on the Citadel. Despite the decay and desperation of surviving on a derelict space station, there had been a form of life for her there. Here, she found herself surrounded by beauty that hid an even more pervasive ugliness underneath.
“How did you come to be here?” she asked.
Dharia seemed pleased by the question, as if she rarely got the chance to narrate her own history. “I was born on the mid-levels, but my family struggled after activists bombed their general goods store. My dynamic revealed itself soon after and my father sold me to the Crown so that the rest of my family could survive.”
“Sold you?”
“It’s not as if he would give me away for free. It was an honor, really, to be able to support them. My parents will have enough to maintain themselves for the rest of their lives because of me.”
The thought of it left a sour taste in Aura’s mouth. “You shouldn’t be able to sell people.”
“The other option was that I starved right along with them, or ended up in the slums, selling the same thing for scraps.” Dharia shrugged, as if no other alternatives had ever occurred to her. “You sound like a renegade or one of those Shi’slim priests who preach in the square about the sins of earthly pleasures.”
There was no response that wouldn’t reveal the extent of her ignorance, so Aura attempted to change the subject. “How many women are there here?”
“A dozen or so.”
“Do any of them ever leave?”
Dharia seemed puzzled by the question. “Where is there for them to go? We have all been claimed by the King.”
“The King has bonded with all of you?” Aura couldn’t imagine it. The link she now shared with Castor was awful enough, but she wouldn’t be able to stand it if she knew he had done the same thing to a dozen other women. “You feel him, inside?”
“Sort of, I bear his mark on my skin.” Dharia pulled down the woven strap of her dress to reveal a scar in the shape of teeth that appeared almost dainty when compared to the one that marred Aura’s flesh. “The bond is weaker because of how many of us share it. I think it’s mostly ceremonial at this point, doesn’t really bother me. You’ll find out soon enough.”
Her own mark still burned at any reminder of its presence. Aura recalled Castor’s insistence that she kept it hidden. How could she, with so many other women here? “When will I get to meet him, the King?”
“He rarely summons any of us at this point. Word is that he often forgets what a day it is or even what year. For some, the inattention is a blessing.”
“But other men will come for us?” Aura kept her voice steady, despite the horrified scream going off in her head at the thought. “Isn’t that what you said?”
“There are worse fates for an Omega in Pandora.” Dharia shrugged it off, as if the entire arrangement were to be expected. “We are fed, clothed and housed in comfort, with only the occasional trifle asked of us. What more can you ask for?”
Aura didn’t have an answer to that question, but she knew there was one. “Does Castor know about this?”
“The Crown Prince?” Dharia’s eyes narrowed, she’d clearly noticed the familiar tone that Aura had taken when referencing him. “I doubt it. He almost never comes here. The high-and-mighty Prince Castor wants nothing to do with an Omega.”
That was enough to pique Aura’s interest. “What do you mean?”
“Even before he came of age, Castor always swore that he would never mate an Omega. He’s one of the few Alphas that resists his natural urges. Apparently, he imagines a world where the dynamics aren’t a part of daily life. It’s pure fantasy.”
The mark burned as Aura fought to keep the cascade of emotions off her face. This woman did not describe the man who had fought for her in the Forbidden Zone and claimed her in a frenzy of passion. The sick part of her missed the hulking Alpha that had stood between her and the darkness, but she also hated herself for even thinking it. That had to be why Castor had taken such pains to stay away from her, it was shame that motivated him.
And Aura still struggled with the concept of what it meant to be Alpha and Omega, since such things had not existed on the Citadel. But she was quickly coming to realize that she had ended up on the wrong side of the power equation.
“Have you ever considered trying to leave?” Aura asked. “There has to be something more out there for you.”
Dharia gaze grew more considered, a sort of shrewdness hiding behind her dark eyes. “How did you say that you came to be here, again?”
Realizing that she was about to talk herself into a corner, Aura regurgitated the story that Castor had made her practice over and over again. “I’m from the lower levels. My parents died when I was a child and I was offered the chance to come here after my dynamic revealed itself. It was that or starve.”
“So you understand then,” Dharia acknowledged with a sigh. “Choice is an illusion for Omegas. We can only play the hand we’re dealt.”
But something she had said alerted Aura to the possibility that there were other options, even if Dharia considered them impossible. “You mentioned renegades. What did you mean?”
“You know. Omegas who attempt to hide their dynamic through artificial means. Some of them take medications to suppress their scent and prevent a heat cycle. Others keep themselves hidden away to avoid being mated, but that’s no sort of life.”
It was hard for Aura to imagine that the reality of being raped by the men who visited the harem could be worse than a life of hiding. She had not seen enough of this city to know what existed outside of the opulent palace, but it couldn’t be worse than what she already faced.
But escape was impossible, at least for now. She had to find some way to send a message to Castor. If he knew that other men freely used the women in the King’s harem then he would do something about it.
Unless he already knew about it and simply didn’t care.
He had said himself that he had no intention of ever touching her again. And he had dropped her here like a piece of trash to be discarded. Perhaps he had known all along what awaited her and had filled her head with pretty words, so that she would not fight him as he abandoned her.
Aura wanted to hate him, but her feelings were too much of a confused jumble. In that moment, there was only room for more confusion.
Dharia seemed to notice Aura’s sudden change of mood and spoke to her in a more cheerful tone. “There is one interesting thing here. Do you want me to show you?”
Reluctantly, Aura followed the older woman out into the main hall of the pavilion. Tiny curls of steam rose off of the heated pool at the center the room, leaving a slight fog in the air while beads of sweat sprung up on her skin. Few of the woman lounging around the pool reacted as they picked their way across the carpet-covered tile.
To Aura’s surprise, Dharia led her to a wood-paneled wall on the far side of the room cut with intricate patterns in the shape of flowers and curlicues. Dharia knelt on the floor and indicated a gap that was large enough to see through.
“We’re right above the main hall,” she said. “If you put your eye up to one of the holes, you can see what’s happening down there. And you can even hear a little, if it’s quiet enough.”
Resigned, Aura pressed her face close enough to the wall that her nose pushed against the wood. Down below was a reception hall, similar to others she had seen during Castor’s impromptu tour, only significantly larger.
And a handful of people were gathered. A man sat on a gilded throne on one side of the room with several others behind him while another group faced them.
“That’s him,” Dharia whispered excitedly. “That’s Castor.”
And Aura realized with a start that it was Castor sitting on the throne. He was speaking, but in such low tones that it was impossible for her to make out what he said. But he faced a group of people who wore clothing that was distinct from any she had seen since arriving, but clearly rich and ornate.
“Who are those people with him?” she asked, curious in spite of herself.
“Foreigners, looks like.” Dharia pressed her face close to the paneling until her features smashed against the wood. “Oh, I know who that is. That’s the emissary group from Vigil.”
“Vigil?” Aura asked before she could stop herself.
“You really don’t know much of anything, do you? I didn’t realize things were so bad in the lower levels that you can’t even get a basic education.” Dharia turned away from the panel to regard Aura with a narrow gaze. She did not seem suspicious, but was clearly making assumptions about Aura’s intelligence and ability to comprehend basic concepts. “Vigil is a neighboring sector, one of the closest. We’ve been in a conflict with them for ages.”
Aura watched as the group from Vigil approached the throne and the waiting prince. The group was almost entirely composed of men, but one woman stood at the center, wearing heavy robes made of glimmering fabric that made her shine like a beacon, even from far away. “Why are they here?”
“Castor has worked hard to establish diplomatic relations with Vigil. He was on his way back from their sector when his skycar crashed and everyone thought he was dead.” Dharia looked through the panel again and an excited note entered her voice. “I know who that woman is. That’s Princess Sirena.”
“Who?”
“Heir to the throne in Vigil.”
“Why would they send a princess here if there’s conflict?”
Dharia made an exasperated sound. “How do you think Castor is securing an alliance, idiot? Uniting the two thrones is the best way to ensure that there’s peace.”
