“D
UDE! WAKE THE HELL
UP!”
Omar woke up to find Ronan standing over his bed. He threw a sleepy-eyed punch and rolled over.
“Asshole,” he said. “What do you want?”
“Aren’t we going on the Great Mate Gathering Adventure?”
Omar sat up on his elbows and frowned at his friend. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Anise. When are we leaving?”
“When it isn’t ungodly o’clock. Now fuck off.” He rolled over, hoping that Ronan would take the hint and leave. He should have known better.
He sighed when he felt the bed dip under Ronan’s weight. For a Rocky, Ronan had always been easy on the jokes and laid back attitude. It’s what made him both amusing and irritating as a roommate when they’d been training to become Rockys.
Ronan nudged him. “Seriously, the sooner we leave the better.”
“Why’s that?”
“I have a pregnant mate to get home to and yours is on the verge of giving birth. That is, if she hasn’t already gone into labor.”
Omar sat up and grabbed his phone off of the charger. He had one text from an unknown number with a single word message: Time.
“Shit. Go get the others ready. You’re going to be on my team. I need the extra help because Mikko’s heir is coming with us.”
“Sweet! Daddy duty.”
“Ronan…”
Ronan stopped at the door and glanced back. “Omar, I miss my mate already. You have to be going fucking insane. My head is in the game; don’t worry about me. Put on some fucking clothes so I can kill stuff and go home.”
Omar shook his head, turned to his duffel bag, and focused his thoughts on his takeover.
* * *
Om
ar gave another passing glance at Trent. For a nine year old, the boy was remarkably serious. The boy was going to be dangerous even if he never became a Rocky, not that it wouldn’t happen. Mikko Wayne would probably drag him through the Withstanding, the ritual training that all Rockys endured, whether he wanted to take a part in it or not.
Once the plane took off, Trent opened up maps and blueprints of the Aleser compound and studied them in silence. When he was done, he turned to Omar with all the seriousness a nine year old could muster and told him where he would try and position himself so that he was both out of the way of the fight and had a good vantage point to make clean shots.
He spoke of killing as if it were a routine task. Nothing made Omar’s heart hurt more. This boy sounded like the Lycan version of Alexis’—Ronan’s sister-in-law—tortured childhood. A child should be allowed to be a child. Childhood already didn’t last long enough.
Still Trent’s battle hardened mindset helped Omar not worry about his presence in the midst of what might turn out to be an extremely hostile takeover.
Standing next to a row of black SUVs was Zareb Gary, the gatekeeper for the Tor in the south central region. Even for a Lycan, Gary was a barrel of a male. Everything about him was large to the point of comedy, yet the male moved with a lethal grace that said he was no slouch when it came to a fight.
“Tor Omar,” Gary said with a slight bow of his head. “Rockys. Welcome to Texas and its miserable heat. I am Gary, Zareb here. Anything you require of me, Tor, feel free to tell me.”
Omar nodded and motioned for everyone to load the SUVs and get ready to leave. He pulled Gary aside and asked him about Anise.
“I spoke to her this morning when that bastard left to check on the rescue center he runs. She said she could only talk for a short time because he has this female keep an eye on her. The woman’s name is Eryka. I’ve met her before. Anise can take her in a fight, but of course, she won’t bother right now. I think the female wants to be Derrick’s mate, but I can’t spend much time there without wanting to kill that fucker for the way he treats my sister.”
“How—Don’t tell me. I don’t think I want to know.”
“No, you don’t. Just understand she has endured enough.”
Omar nodded and led the way back to the vehicles, his Soul well beyond ready to get his mate.
On the ride to the outskirts of town where Derrick’s parents had built the Aleser compound, Gary gave more information about the layout of the house. Blueprints were great, but they didn’t detail furniture layout. A quick glance to the rear where Trent sat showed Omar that the boy was paying close attention and tweaking his previous plan to accommodate the intel he’d just received. Omar shook his head, but accepted the fact that if Trent made it through his Withstanding, he would willingly follow the boy into battle.
From what little they could see, the Aleser house was palatial in the American sense of the word. Marbled columns outlined the rear porch, and wrought iron gates surrounded the property. The massive brick home was a guard’s worst nightmare with all the glass panels on the lower level. Natural light was one thing, but safety from both Hunters and other invading forces—such as himself—should come before aesthetics.
Omar shrugged away his thoughts on the house and motioned Yara’s team to forward to secure the grounds and the ground level of the house; he and his team entered the house and went up the back stairway to the second and third floor.
According to Gary, who Omar had ordered to return to his home and wait for his phone call, the master bedroom took up two-thirds of the third floor. He motioned for Ronan and Trent to check the second level. Pride bloomed in his chest when the little boy started using hand commands to indicate which direction that he wanted to take. Ronan nodded and took point as they entered the archway which led into a recreation room.
Tyson led the way as they ascended the stairs with Jazmir pulling up the rear. They paused when muffled gunshots sounded behind them, but continued after Trent’s head stuck out of the doorway and motioned back, giving Ronan the all clear signal.
A loud bang sounded at the top of the stairs, followed by an exchange of harshly whispered reprimands before the door opened and clicked softly shut. Tyson swiftly fired two barrel-silenced shots and caught the bodies before they hit the ground. Omar stepped up and helped shuffle the corpses down the stairs to Jazmir and Ronan, who’d joined them after clearing the rec room. Trent automatically shifted his position to allow the two males to focus their attention without being exposed to attack.
When the bodies were safely stashed, Tyson led the way onto the landing where everyone split to bracket either side of the doorway, leaving Trent on the stairs below the landing where he couldn’t be seen, but he could keep an eye out to the lower level doorway.
Ronan—leading from the left—counted down and opened the door. Alternating between high-low crouching positions, they entered the room ready to fire, but silence was their only greeter.
Another quick sweep determined that no one was in the anteroom of the bedroom, so they made their way down the hall to the closed master bedroom.
Omar frowned at the fact that Derrick—being as paranoid as he supposedly was—didn’t have any guards outside his door.
A pained whimper stopped his concerns about the guards and propelled him to step forward, only to have his way blocked by Jazmir. Omar growled at his Tukata, but the male simply shook his head.
In a hushed tone, Jazmir reminded him what his role was as his third. “I am your shield, Tor. Let me do my duty. Do not deny me the honor.”
Omar ground his teeth, but nodded his consent. Damn the Alesers and the vows they gave upon becoming the personal guards of their leader. He was a Rocky, and as such, he was supposed to lead and protect those around him.
Jazmir opened the door slowly and entered the room in a crouch. No shots fired, but the moments of silence seemed to stretch on for eternity as they all waited on bated breath for a signal from Jaz.
Finally the signal came, and they all entered slowly. Omar stepped around everyone to find Anise lying in a corner on a pallet of blankets. He bit back a growl at the condition she was forced to deliver her child in.
Omar swore on all that he was worth that Derrick would pay for the complete disregard to Anise while she was in labor. Being forced to deliver alone was bad enough, but setting her up on the floor like a stray cat was an insult that would not go unanswered.
He stepped over to her, intent on reaching out to her, but he stopped when she seemed to flinch away from his touch. He reached again, only to have his attention stolen away by a masculine hum from the adjacent bathroom. He paused and turned his attention to the bathroom and the sounds of a shower drifting into the room.
Yeah, I’m going to kick his fucking ass.
He turned his attention back to his mate when another pained sound escaped her full lips, but she quickly smothered it and shot a quick glance at the door as if afraid Derrick had heard her.
“I said shut the fuck up, Anise. I think you can bring my son into the world without so much complaining. You should be honored that I bother with you at all.”
The sound of Derrick’s voice cutting into the room was a surgical blade to Omar’s last nerve, severing the last of his patience.
Omar stepped to the door, but was again blocked by Jaz. Unlike before, Jaz’s interference wasn’t a welcome one. Omar wrapped his hand around his Tukata’s throat and used it as leverage to force the male to his knees.
“Not now, Jaz. Not fucking now,” he said with a whispered growl.
Omar passed another assessing gaze down to Anise who—with the help of Ronan—was breathing through her pain. He’d never been so glad that Ronan had decided to follow his older brother’s path and become a doctor.
Releasing his hold on his Tukata’s throat, he stepped toward the bathroom, but caught the whispered exchange between Ronan and Anise.
“But what about my son? What–”Anise paused, her features bunching in pain. She glanced in Omar’s direction and seemed to wince at whatever expression he had on his face.
“I’m not that much of a lion, Anise,” he said softly before walking to the bathroom door and yanking it open.
“What the fu–”
Omar didn’t give the male the chance to complete his thought. He slammed his fist into Derrick’s open mouth. The force of his punch careened Derrick into the glass shower, which shattered on impact.
Voices—annoying shouts—were like gnats fighting their way through his rage-filled haze from their place in the background. Omar ignored them, focusing instead on Derrick. The male was a shitty example of a Tor and an even worse father to his heir. To dismiss the pains of her labor as an inconvenience to his otherwise peaceful world only drove Omar to kill the male.
Derrick suddenly snapped into motion after Omar landed another well-landed punch to his jaw. Derrick spun away from Omar’s advancing fist, kicking out his left leg and propelling Omar back into the mirror above the double sink.
Omar didn’t even flinch when the mirror broke around him. Bottles of grooming products fell from their organized place on the counter onto the floor, some exploding on impact and making the moderately sized room more hazardous.
Though Derrick managed to land a few punches to Omar’s face and torso, his punches were only moderately effective considering the vicious blows he’d received from other Rockys. More importantly, those punches were like annoying taps against a pissed off Rocky who was hell bent on ripping off his opponent’s head.
To his credit, despite being consistently punched in the kidneys and gut, Derrick didn’t back down. He traded blows with Omar, the ring he wore cutting above Omar’s eye, gushing blood into his vision.
Half blind, Omar roared and unleashed his claws determined to stop pretending that he had an actual opponent when a pair of hands that wrapped around his left bicep.
“Tor,” Yara said.
Omar yanked his arm away and growled at her, but she didn’t back down. She grabbed him again, and this time Jazmir grabbed his other arm. Stella, Luke, and Tyson trapped Derrick in a fierce grip.
“Tor,” Yara repeated. “You cannot kill him now, no matter how much he offends you. You will not win the pride this way. Honor him with the Challenge he can neither win nor deserves.”
Omar fought against the hold of his Lykata and Tukata. He didn’t fucking care anymore. Derrick was a ridiculous waste of leadership. Nothing was more insulting than the possibility that he’d be forced to honor this poor excuse of a male with a formal challenge.
“Tor.” Jaz’s gruff tone cut into his rage. “Your mate needs you more than you want this fight. We are here to serve you and your interests. Killing him in the bathroom is not in your best interest.”
Omar stopped, blinking past the blood still running down his face to see the serene features of his Tukata, which was no different from Jaz’s normal expression. Truthfully, no one, save his wife, ever knew what the male was thinking. Yara’s face was wiped of all emotion. She’d learned the hard way to keep her face clear of all emotion. In that, Yara had no tells, and she was all the deadlier for it.
He turned to face his fellow Rockys. “Take him to the cell. Trent can lead you if you need directions.”
Stella nodded, but allowed Tyson to take the lead and guide Derrick’s struggling form from the room.
Omar lurched toward the door when he heard Derrick cursing Anise, but Jaz held him firmly in place. A loud crack preceded the thud of a falling body, interrupting Derrick’s rant.
After a final calming breath, Omar nodded to his Lykata and Tukata indicating they could let him go. It was time for him to focus on his mate and their son.
ANISE TURNED HER GAZE
from Ronan to see her mate enter the room. Butterfly stiches held the wound closed that had recently been pouring his precious life-blood down his face. Though most of the blood had been cleaned from his face and he appeared calm, she couldn’t help the protective instinct that rose in the pit of her stomach. She’d gone through too much to allow harm to come to her son.
There were some Alesers who embraced the tendencies of their lion cousins by killing off the newborn Alesers of other males who’d impregnated their Soul’s Mates. And like their lioness cousins, Aleser females would enter their Rut, the Lycan fertile period, in order to bear their mate’s child.
Anise had been witness to the screaming pain of a mother whose child had been taken from her soon after birth and the silenced wails of a child too young to understand the way of an Aleser married too closely to his inner beast. She’d never looked at her brother the same way and she would never understand how his mate never killed him in his sleep for the pain he’d willingly inflicted on her.
She wouldn’t delude herself with a lie. If she was forced to kill her mate, a part of her would die, but the female she’d become if she sat by and let him kill her son wasn’t any more appealing.
“Anise, I need to check you again,” Ronan said, drawing her back out of her dark thoughts.
She relaxed and prepared for the necessary violation of her personal space. Ronan reached forward, but stilled when a rumbling growl came from over her shoulder.
Ronan rolled his eyes. “If you can’t deal, Tor, leave. This is a part of me being a doctor.”
Anise watched a muscle tick in Omar’s jaw before he nodded and walked back into the bathroom.
“Do you think he will do,” she gasped when Ronan quickly examined her, “anything to my son?”
“No. I know Omar. He’s one of the few Rockys that I consider a friend. He will not harm you or your son.”
“You do realize how hard that is to believe, right?”
He nodded. “You will have to trust me. Omar is not that male. Killing children isn’t something he will ever find appealing.”
“But–”
“Let it go, mate. I am not that male,” Omar said. “Ronan, I’m going to call Zareb Gary and let him know what’s going on.”
With that, Omar stalked out of the room, followed closely by his guards, but not before Ronan instructed him to send someone up with the supplies he needed to deliver the baby.
The supplies came by way of one of the prides females, Eryka, whose hatred of Anise was unfounded. The girl wanted Derrick with a rabid passion that Anise didn’t understand. Still she let out a sigh of relief because she was glad it was Eryka that brought the supplies and not Omar.
Her mate was a lot of things, intense being the primary force behind his presence. She was glad he left. Her focus strengthened on bringing her son into the world and keeping him safe once he arrived.
No more than ten minutes passed before the need to push swept over her and dealing with the pain was no longer a reality. Eryka offered no words of comfort, but she was wise enough to do as Ronan ordered. The female was not Alpha enough to win in a battle against Ronan, but the idea of taking orders from a Tala obviously chaffed against Eryka’s Aleser nature.
Anise tried to focus on her breathing, to relax and keep her body as free of tension as possible, but all the deep breathing that Ronan had helped her start went out the window once she started to crown. Curses were the only thing she had when she managed to push past her son’s shoulders.
“One more push, Anise,” Ronan said. “Make it a good one and this will be all over.”
She did what she was told and gave her son—and it was a boy—a final shove from her body.
Anise finally believed that the pain of childbirth was forgotten the minute she heard the indignant wail of her son. A sense of euphoria swept over her, overwriting the memories of the labor pain and Derrick’s degradation. All her though
ts were consumed with her son and silencing his cries.
Ronan handed the boy to her, having found the swaddling blankets in the baby’s adjoining room.
“He’s going to be strong. Hang tight, and you’ll be ready to move in a bit.”
He’d warned her that there was another phase to go through—afterbirth—but she would be good to move onto the bed when it was over. She’d caught the mumble of disapproval that he’d directed at Derrick for forcing her to deliver on the floor.
“I need to take the boy,” Eryka said, breaking her thoughts about the messy affair of delivering her placenta.
Ronan frowned up at her. “Why? He’s fine. I checked him already.”
“He is heir to the throne. He belongs with his father, not her.”
Anise growled. “I dare you to fucking take him–”
A yelp preceded a violent crash. Anise jumped back as much as she could, but almost laughed when she spied Eryka pinned to the floor.
“This female has been through labor,” Ronan growled into Eryka’s ear. “If you think I will let you take her child from her then you are mistaken. She is my patient first and foremost. I will not allow you to stress her out with useless rambling of taking her child.” He pushed away from her. “Besides, a cell isn’t where a child belongs. In case you haven’t noticed, this is a takeover, female. I suggest you get on board or forfeit your life. You’ll have to decide how much you love that sack of shit that forced her to deliver like an animal elsewhere. Get the fuck out.”
“You can’t–”
“Get. The. Fuck. Out. If I repeat myself again, you will be leaving in pieces.”
Eryka’s eyes widened, and she backed to the door. She left, but made sure to keep Ronan in her sight the entire time, though Anise didn’t think it would matter. Ronan seemed pissed off enough that there wouldn’t be much of a chance for her to counteract any attack should he decide to kill her.
“Sorry about that,” he said with a slight smile. “Good help is so hard to find nowadays.”
Anise laughed. “I take it she’s fired.”
“That will be up to you, Nabila, not me.”
“I am not–”
“Derrick may not have honored you by making you his queen, but I hope you don’t think Omar did all of this simply to wave you around like a trophy. You deserve better.”
“Being bound to Derrick would have forced me to murder him. Trust me, I don’t feel too dishonored that he didn’t find me worthy of becoming his Aatiki. A wife should love her husband. Besides, being a Nabila to Derrick would have been just as useless as being his wife. As for Omar, I will not become his Aatiki if he seeks to murder my son. I’ve endured too much, sacrificed too much of my time to allow my plans to be wasted.”
Ronan laughed, which did nothing but piss her off. He laughed harder when she growled at him.
“The fact that you think Omar will let you tell him no is funny as shit. I’m sorry, but that isn’t an option. As for your son, I already told you he is safe. Omar will not murder him now or in the future. That isn’t his style.”
“Then he will treat my son–”
“Like he is his own. Omar will not be the male you are making him out to be. If he does, I’ll be back to kick his ass.” He held out his hand. “Let me hold your son, Anise. I will place him in the bassinet and get you in the bed.”
She reluctantly released her son to his care and tried to get up, but her body was reluctant to move from the uncomfortable pallet.
“I’m sure your legs and hips are so sore from being down there that you can’t move. Let me help you.”
Anise looked up to see Omar standing above her. He crouched down and reached for her, but the slight nod she received as she met Ronan’s gaze over Omar’s shoulder calmed her enough to let Omar to scoop her from the floor and place her on the bed.
Omar stepped to the bassinet and smiled at the gurgling baby. She tensed when he reached inside and scooped her son up.
“Hey, son, welcome to the pride.” Omar turned and placed him in her arms. “Decide on a name. His naming will be in two days. All Alakes and Zarebs have been called to attend Derrick’s Challenge. They will remain for the Naming ceremony of the prince.”
Anise narrowed her eyes. “Why would you Name him?”
“Every child deserves a name, Anise.”
“But he’s not yours.”
“But he is yours and still a child. Name him. Allow him the rights that all children of Gardas are afforded–”
She snapped. “For what?! So you can kill him later?”
Omar dropped his head, but she could tell he wasn’t in submission but an effort to calm the simmering rage he magically held at bay. She glanced to the door to see Ronan slipping out. He’d been shaking his head like she’d done something he didn’t approve of.
“The boy is no threat to me,” Omar said, his voice soft, but she could hear notes of his anger wrapped around the words. “If I wanted him dead, I would have never allowed you to hold him, let alone demand that you prepare for his Naming. And it is a demand, Anise. You will give him a name and honor him with your presence at his Naming ceremony. In that, you have no choice.
“I understand that you do not know me, that we are mated simply because our Souls wish it to be. You want me to be a monster, but do not compare me to males like Derrick. We are not the same. If I was ever a monster, Derrick wouldn’t even be in the same class. I am a Rocky; therefore I am inherently more dangerous than anything he could aspire to be. Trust me, you will see that side of me soon enough, but it isn’t you or the boy that I will be coming for. It is for the both of you that I will embrace the strongest and darkest part of my soul. It is you that I will defend with the very beast you accuse me of being.” He sighed and turned his dark eyes to her. “Tomorrow I will embrace the primitive part of my soul because you are mine and mine alone. I will not share you with someone as weak as Derrick.”
Anise sighed. “Am I to share you?”
She didn’t know why she cared, but the thought of being the First Wife of many bothered her.
Unlike the Talas, Alesers generally had more than one spouse, but they only had one Soul’s Mate. The thought of having to share Omar—despite fearing the plans he may have for her son—grated against her possessive side.
“I doubt I will have a need or time for more than one Aatiki, Rocky. You will be more than enough to keep me busy.”
She gave him a timid smile and nodded. She had a feeling he would do his best to keep her just as busy, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
A knock on the door stole her thoughts about a future with the eventual Tor of the US pride.
“Tor, there is a visitor here for Nabila Anise.”
She frowned at the title and the fact that anyone would have come to see her.
“Send them in, Yara,” Omar said.
The door swung open, and Gary’s massive shoulders inched into the room.
“Tor Omar,” her brother said, kneeling before Omar. “Thank you for all that you have done for my sister.”
Omar set his hand on Gary’s massive shoulder and gestured for him to stand. “I can’t say that my motives were entirely honorable. She’s my mate, and that is all that mattered to me.” He made his way to the door. “I’m going to get her something to eat. Go ahead and meet your nephew.”
“Thank you, Tor,” Gary said as the door closed softly behind Omar. “Make him happy, Anise.”
“What the hell do you mean?”
“You forget that I know you better than our other brothers do. You may not have grown up with us, but I spent enough time among your pride to know what you are thinking.”
“And that is what, Gary?”
“You want to protect your son, but you don’t give Omar enough credit to think that he will do the same. You will push him—stupid thought, I might add—and risk the one thing you need more than anything else.”
“So I need a male to ensure my son’s safety? Do you think I became a Rocky because I was coddled through the process?”
Gary let out a dismissive laugh. “You really think I don’t know your plan?”
Anise stilled. “What are you talking about?”
“The entire reason you tolerated Derrick was some silly whim you thought to ensure your son would one day gain the throne and make changes in your favor. But, sister, you forget that Derrick not the kind of male to let you have any tangible influence on his heir. You are merely a breeder in his eyes. Derrick would go out of his way to ensure that the son you hoped to raise would be unrecognizable by the time he is old enough to rule. By the time he is an adult, your son would have been so corrupted by him that you’d be better off killing him now to spare yourself later pain. Think carefully about the male you’re trying to alienate. He will not break as easily as you hoped to break Derrick.”
Gary didn’t wait for her reply. He turned his attention to his nephew, making all the silly comments that adults made to infants.
It forced her to be alone with her thoughts and the desires she so desperately wanted for herself.
Damn the Alesers and their patriarchal society. Damn it all when she so desperately wanted change.