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Alpha's Corruption
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Alpha’s Corruption
Lillian Sable
Copyright © 2019 by Lillian Sable
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Also by Lillian Sable
Lillian Sable
Chapter One
Castor strode down the hallway, heels of his boots clicking against the marble floor. He shifted uncomfortably in the stuffy overcoat lined in velvet and covered in the bits of gold and heavy metal that was part of the royal dress for receiving visitors to the palace. Even though nearly a week had passed since his return from the Forbidden Zone, he still wasn’t used to being fully clothed. Part of him missed the freedom of dressing only in loose animal skin, or better yet, dressing in nothing at all.
With some effort, he had avoided devoting too much thought to the weeks he had spent trapped out there or what had occurred in that time.
The girl had marked him. That thought still sat uncomfortably in his mind. He had not yet been able to convince himself that it had been anything more than the fevered imagining of his altered mind.
Except the small imprint of her teeth was scarred into the skin of his chest. The mark was a permanent reminder of whatever existed between them, as if he was even capable of forgetting it.
But he had no choice now but to assume the mantle of royalty that had been his cage for the entirety of his life. The skills he had used to survive the savage dangers of the Forbidden Zone were nothing compared to the savvy required to navigate the political minefield he now found himself in. The girl was a distraction that he could ill-afford.
He wouldn’t touch her again.
The King had been nearly overthrown in the handful of weeks that Castor was gone. He had every reason to believe that there were still those conspiring to take control of the Crown. Although Castor considered himself well-loved by the common people of Pandora, he held no illusions that he had many allies among his father’s Council or within Central Command.
Although the traitorous Undersecretary, who had organized Castor’s disappearance and near death, had been executed for his crimes, he was one man amid what could be a vast conspiracy. Barnard had not been working alone and his conspirators could remain within the government, waiting for any sign of weakness to strike.
Even his own father, the rightful King of Pandora, was more of a liability than an asset. King Rolan had become doddering in his own age, caring for little that existed beyond his dinner plate and the Omegas of his harem that warmed his bed. He was more figurehead than ruler. So, it fell to his most capable son to keep their empire from crumbling under its own weight.
And all of that was complicated by the Omega from the stars that he had hidden in a room in the most unused portion of the palace. She would have to remain there until he could find a way to explain her presence to any but his most trusted servants.
Castor was running out of people he could trust.
Which was how he found himself taking a private audience with the last man on the planet that he would ever consider a potential ally.
Legion Astrophus sat at one end of the long conference table with a slightly smaller man standing behind him. Even thought they had never met, Castor knew the second man had to be Adrian, Legion’s right hand for years.
Adrian had a file as thick as Legion did in the security archives, but Castor tried to ignore his misgivings as he took his own seat at the head of the table. He had agreed to meet them alone because he never would have made it out of the Forbidden Zone without their help, but that didn’t mean he trusted either not to betray him at the first available opportunity.
“I am aware that I have you both to thank for my precipitous rescue from the Forbidden Zone,” Castor said, keeping his voice formal. “Your efforts cannot be officially acknowledged, of course, but understand that you have my gratitude.”
Legion raised a dark eyebrow, expression sardonic. “And what value do you place on your gratitude, Prince Castor?”
“Your lives, for one. Had my dramatic return been delayed much longer, I can’t imagine we would be here at all to exchange thanks.”
A brief smile touched Legion’s lips, as if he was unbothered by the reminder that he had been in the literal executioner’s chair when Castor had arrived to halt the proceedings. The machinations of Undersecretary Barnard had nearly cost them both their lives. “I hope you’re not implying that I organized your rescue solely for my own benefit. I’m saddened at the very idea. I have nothing but the utmost loyalty to the Crown and its rightful heir.”
Castor fought the urge to roll his eyes. Legion was among the most notorious cartel bosses in the city and had no problem flouting the law for personal gain. If leaving the Prince to rot had been in his best interest, then that’s precisely what Legion would have done.
But both of them played a game with no winners, only those whose pieces hadn’t yet been knocked off the table.
“And the Crown appreciates the loyalty of all citizens,” Castor replied, keeping his tone neutral. “Perhaps we should start with your purpose for requesting this audience. As I’m sure you know, there are several matters that require my attention.”
“Is one of those things the Omega recovered with you?”
A flash of anger briefly twisted his features. Castor knew that he placed himself in a weaker bargaining position with displays of emotion, but any threat to Aura was enough to challenge his already splintering hold on control. “She is none of your concern.”
“I disagree. This girl represents something of great concern to me.” Legion’s voice was pleasant, but his gaze was sharp and penetrating as he regarded the Prince. No hint of emotion escaped the endless darkness of his eyes.
Castor shuttered his expression, determined to reveal nothing more that he already had. “She is a part of the Royal Harem, nothing more.”
“Lies.” There was no accusation in Legion’s voice, but the word landed with all the force of a stone dropped onto a still pond, creating ripples of shock in its wake. “She has never been a registered citizen.”
“How dare you—”
Legion had the nerve to interrupt the Prince, that sure of his knowledge. “Her DNA was in the skycar so I had a comparison run through the archives. There wasn’t even a familial match on file. It’s as if the girl and her ancestors haven’t stepped foot on the planet for a thousand years.”
Castor schooled his features with an effort, recognizing that he had already conceded the upper hand. “And you are suggesting what exactly?”
“I am suggesting that our beloved reformer Prince, too moral to ever take an Omega mate, was recovered from the Forbidden Zone with an Omega who might as well have appeared out of thin air. And that he might be interested in keeping that information from leaving this room.” Legion steepled his fingers together on the table and leaned forward, expression shrewd. “Perhaps you would prefer that I speculate publicly on the origins of this mysterious Omega.”
And have it become public knowledge that a foreign government had discovered a space station and was experimenting on the population to produce Omegas?
Undersecretary Barnard had gathered support by promising key members within the government an endless s
upply of Omegas. Castor could not be sure what plans the man had that might still come to fruition, even after his death. There were many Alphas with positions in Central Command who would commit treason for the chance to possess an unmated Omega. The best-case scenario was that Aura would be conscripted by the Science Corps so that her biology could be studied and potentially reverse-engineered.
Castor did not want to contemplate the worst-case scenario.
“What do you want?” he asked finally, glaring at the man across from him who he already regretted saving from the executioner.
It was no secret that Legion had a taste of extortion.
“In exchange for my continued discretion?” the most feared cartel boss in all of Pandora asked with a small smile. “You say it as if I’m not proposing a mutually beneficial relationship. I simply want to be of service. Let me help you.”
Castor was at a point where all he wanted was the unvarnished truth, free of innuendo. He would have his fill of veiled comments and artifice once the Council was back in session. Even if he wanted to throw both men out the nearest window, he could appreciate their bluntness.
“And how will you help me?”
“Not only will I keep your secrets, your majesty, I will ensure that they stay kept.”
“Meaning what, exactly?”
“First, you need an identity for your Omega. If I was able to figure out that she is completely unregistered, then others will as well. And they will ask questions that neither you, nor she, can answer.”
“Are you suggesting that you can alter records in the central database?” Castor asked in disbelief. “The layers of encryption on the file alone makes that inconceivable. And you would also have to deposit biological samples.”
“It’s already been done.”
The man at Legion’s back spoke for the first time, voice husky with apparent disuse. Adrian might have been the more dangerous of the two men, if just because of his unpredictability. Legion epitomized the corrupt Alphas who controlled much of the city, which made him a known quantity. But Adrian was a chameleon, anything could lurk under the mask of his face.
“Are you actually suggesting that you managed to sneak into the archives?” Castor raised an incredulous eyebrow. “The security there is tighter than here at the palace. It’s impossible.”
Adrian shrugged, as if Castor’s belief in his ability to circumvent the most advanced security system in the sector didn’t matter to him at all. “Not for me.”
Legion slid a heavy folder across the table. “I’ve arranged a backstory that is complete, but difficult to discredit. As far as anyone will know, your Omega was born in the slums and orphaned at a young age, which is why she never attended the education program. Any familial matches are distant and long-dead. This file should pass any but the most exacting scrutiny.”
Castor briefly flipped through the sheaf of papers which seemed exhaustive at just a glance — doctored birth records and citizenship registration were the most important pieces. He did not intend for Aura to leave the palace grounds, so this should be more than enough. “You have my thanks.”
“Of course, my Prince. Your gratitude is worth more than words can say.”
But a man like Legion placed no stock in something as ephemeral as gratitude or pretty words. Raising a winged brow and bearing regal, Castor brought himself to his full height in the chair as he regarded the two men before him. “And now we’ve come to the point where you tell me what you want.”
Legion did not hesitate. “A seat on your council of advisors.”
“Out of the question.” The words were out of Castor’s lips before he’d had a chance to even think them through, the response innate. Men like Legion Astrophus simply did not advise royalty. It just wasn’t done. “How would I even explain it?”
“A reward for loyalty. I am the reason that you are no longer fighting for survival in the Forbidden Zone.” Legion leaned back against his chair, body language relaxed even as his eyes burned with intensity. “And you’ll want someone in your inner circle who knows the truth of what occurred there and won’t betray you for the promise of fresh Omega cunt.”
“And you expect me to believe that a man like you is incorruptible?”
“In this way, yes.”
Some unspoken knowledge floated in the air between them. It took only a beat for Castor to understand what wasn’t being said. “I didn’t realize you had taken a mate.”
Legion gave a slight nod, expression inscrutable. “My son was born mere weeks ago. I have no interest in what Undersecretary Barnard offered and what would sway the potential traitors in your midst.”
The man was right, damn him. “Fine, but you will take no action without my express permission.”
“Of course, your majesty,” Legion replied, infusing his voice with something that almost sounded like sincerity. “Again, I live to serve.”
“I’m sure.” Castor snapped, before he could stop himself. With a heavy sigh, he bowed his head, finally relaxing into the terrible tension that twitched down every nerve of his body. If Legion truly wanted to be his advisor, then there was no point in pretending to be the stiff royal. His entire life had taken on a surreal quality since the moment his skycar had crashed in the Forbidden Zone and the normal rules no longer applied. “I’m surprised you haven’t insisted that I tell you where Aura came from.”
“Do you mean the space station recently discovered by scientists in Vigil?” Adrian asked, voice dry.
There was no sense in denying it now, but Castor had difficulty hiding his surprise. “How can you possibly know about that?”
Adrian shrugged as if it was no matter, but there was a shrewd light in his eyes. “I’ve gathered many contacts over the years. You can make certain assumptions once you’ve heard enough speculation. You’ve just confirmed it for me now.”
Castor reminded himself to keep his temper in check. A relationship with these men could be useful, but had to be carefully navigated. He couldn’t allow his temper to rule him, not now. And he had to admit that a man like Legion would make a powerful ally, at least until the moment that the man inevitably betrayed him.
But what other choice did he have if he wanted to keep the girl safe until he decided what to do with her?
“There’s more that you need to know about Vigil,” Castor said on a sigh, thoroughly exhausted with all of it. Part of him almost missed the Forbidden Zone, at least there it had been clear who wanted to tear him apart. “But we’ll save that for another time. I’m late for a Council inquest.”
Legion rose smoothly from the chair. “I’ll join you. It seems only fitting as your newly appointed advisor.”
“I’ll need something else,” Castor said, voice commanding even as he gritted his teeth. “Aura does not speak a word of our language. She’ll need to have a translation unit implanted. I need a doctor brought to the palace. A discrete one.”
A smirk briefly touched Legion’s lips. “I have just the one in mind.”
Chapter Two
Aura felt as much of a captive in the palace as she had in the Forbidden Zone.
The food was significantly more palatable, and she enjoyed sitting near the tiny vent that produced foggy waves of heat through some mysterious mechanism. But the four walls of her windowless room were as much of cage as the cabin surrounded by feral Alphas had been.
Except now she was alone.
It had been several days since she had last seen Castor. Others silently came in and out of the room to change the bed linens or refresh the small buffet on the table at mealtimes, but otherwise she had been left completely isolated. None of them responded to her questions, likely because no one here seemed to speak the same language she did, but she also assumed that they had received instructions not to attempt communicating with her.
She couldn’t help but wonder if this forced isolation was intended as a form of punishment. Castor had been angry when she’d seen him last. No, that wasn’t the right word for it.
He had been tortured. As if even her very presence was enough to send him over the edge.
The wound on her shoulder burned in awareness each and every time she thought of him, even though it had mostly healed. Although the skin was mostly intact, only slightly pink with fresh scar tissue in the perfect shape of a mouth full of sharp teeth, it would occasionally throb with a pain that robbed her of breath.
Perhaps he meant to leave her here until the silence and the loneliness was finally enough to drive her completely mad. Part of her almost missed the perpetual danger of the Forbidden Zone. Despite the constant fear that had hung on her like sick perfume, the focus on survival had been enough to distract her from agonizing over her circumstances.
And Castor had been with her.
Aura absently kneaded at the claiming mark, the small sparks of pain that tickled down her nerves were oddly ignored. She found a sick sort of comfort in the pain for reasons that were unclear.
Perhaps it was that the pain reminded her of him.
She hadn’t been able to get him out of her mind, no matter how hard she tried. Nothing available to her in this room could distract her, not sleep or even the curious puzzle boxes that had been left on a nearby table for entertainment.
There were even books on the shelves, a luxurious item she had only ever had described to her by Auntie Nona. In a place without trees, like Citadel station, paper was an incomprehensible luxury. The words were unreadable to her, of course, but many of the volumes were filled of pictures that would have fascinated her at virtually any other point in her life.
But the more she tried to focus on the intricate illustrations or solve the puzzle boxes, the brighter his image became as it swam in her vision. She almost had herself convinced that she could smell his scent in the air. When she closed her eyes, a phantom touch in the shape of his hands coasted along her skin.