20. Orcus

Several Minutes Earlier

I sitacross from my brother in his lair, my ankle propped up on my opposite knee. His long fingers are steepled on his massive desk, his dark eyes inflamed with hope. "An Omega."

That's all he says.

But it's also all he needs to say.

"Yeah," I confirm. "An Omega."

He swallows, his usual stoicism melting in the face of this information.

I came here to tell him about the Strigoi Princes running around the alternate reality. However, our conversation quickly evolved when Hades picked up on Alina's scent.

The Strigoi were a minor announcement—a pesky little nuisance, really—compared to my discovery.

"You're absolutely certain?" he presses.

"You scented her on me before I even had a chance to mention it," I point out. "But…" My jaw clenches, some part of me hating that I have to express doubt on the situation.

Alas, my position requires me to be thorough.

And to be thorough, I have to voice my concerns.

"She's mortal," I tell him.

He frowns. "That's impossible."

"I know." I clear my throat. "But her scent and her soul…" I don't need to finish that statement. Hades understands.

Alina is broadcasting herself as an Omega.

"However, there are some genetic manipulations going on in this dimension," I continue, needing to tell him everything. "The humans have worked for over three centuries to create perfect mates for their Monsters Night."

While I don't know much—as a result of not meeting the Monster City Queen yet—I share what I've learned based on observations, as well as what I've sensed within the dimension itself.

By the time I'm finished, Hades appears less enthused. "So it's probably a manufactured scent," he concludes, referring to Alina.

"Maybe," I admit. "However, my Alpha soul doesn't think so."

He studies me for a long moment. "Tread carefully, brother. I understand your hope. But hope is a dangerous illusion."

My brother isn't wrong.

Hope is like a fucking drug. Just the hint of an Omega essence rendered me obsessed with Alina, making it no coincidence at all that I picked up on her presence in Monster City.

Of course, I already knew she was heading there.

And after observing her on the train, I knew I had to find her.

But there's something about her. Something addictive. Something special.

A human with an Omega soul.

"I'm aware of the impossibility of this situation," I acknowledge out loud. "We'll know her true nature if she goes into heat."

When, my Alpha corrects. When she goes into heat.

My knot throbs with the thought, my cock more than ready to satisfy the Omega for days—weeks—or however long it takes.

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. "I need to return," I tell Hades. Emissary Jones gave me permission for this visit, the concept of which still rankles my nerves.

Gods don't need permission to do anything.

Yet, I played my part in this political charade and phoned the concierge with the request before opening a portal back home.

"Flame and Reaper will be staying behind with Alina, just in case your Queen requires a show of faith that I'll return," I told Emissary Jones.

"Our Queen will appreciate that," he replied.

I thought he was done, ready to hang up the phone.

However, the Emissary continued speaking.

"Typically, portals are only allowed on Monsters Night. But we do have a few beings with clearance to travel at will."

I wasn't sure how he wanted me to respond to that, so I replied with a mere "I see."

"While you do not have that clearance," he went on, "I have authorization to allow this as a one-time courtesy. But do return, sir. Otherwise, our Queen may see your disappearance as a sign that your realm does not wish to cooperate with ours."

With that, he finally hung up the phone.

And I pictured throwing the device at the wall.

Except the phone was a translucent screen that hovered above the desk, making it impossible to destroy.

So I took a steadying breath instead, told Reaper and Flame to guard Alina, and left.

"I'll talk to Morpheus about the Strigoi situation," Hades says as I stand. "I want an update again after you talk to this Monster City Queen." His eyes narrow with the title. "In all my observations of that realm, I've not seen her, which I now suspect might be purposeful."

I nod, agreeing with that assessment. "Her Emissary mentioned our portal windows, suggesting she knew about us all along."

"So it seems," Hades muses. "I look forward to learning more about her."

"Likewise," I admit. "Along with a great many other things." Such as the genetic manipulation going on in the realm and how that might be altering certain scents. I also want to ask about the Elite City in Chicago for Alina.

And maybe learn why she's so interested in it, or how she even knows about it.

"I'll tell the Strigoi to behave," I tell my brother. "Otherwise, I'll be in touch."

Hades nods. "I'm sure Morpheus will want to have a word with them." He considers for a moment. "Or not." He shrugs. "Regardless, not my problem. But I will be talking to Maliki about it."

The way my brother's eyes darken with that last statement says he's already planning out exactly how he intends to handle that particular conversation.

If the slight smile taunting his lips is anything to go by, he's going to enjoy it.

Poor Maliki, I think. According to my brother, the Death Fae is currently in Lucifer's custody—which was to be expected for creating an illegal portal in the Netherworld. But Hades fully anticipates Maliki to be released back to him for punishment soon.

Which is likely what my brother will enjoy.

Fortunately for the Death Fae, he likes pain.

"Speak soon," I say to Hades before stepping out of his office and teleporting to an old dungeon in the Mythos Fae Realm.

I reentered my reality here earlier, just in case anyone attempted to follow me. Not that I think anyone could, but the new dimension is still an unknown entity. Best to trap any unexpected guests here than to lead them straight to my brother's lair.

Besides, this realm is out of Lucifer's jurisdiction, making it impossible for him to feel the manifestation magic used to create a portal big enough for me to walk through. Little portholes didn't require enough energy for the Hell Fae King to sense.

Alas, I can't fit through a porthole.

I suppose, technically, I could have just come here initially to create a connection to the other dimension rather than go under the cover of Monsters Night. However, venturing into a new world—especially an alternate universe—came with a myriad of potential consequences.

Exploring and testing the magical limits of the unknown beneath the veil of an accepted practice—like opening portals on Monsters Night—made the most sense.

Of course, I'm not done testing those limits yet.

Hence the reason I'm creating a portal in an old mirror, deep underground in this old crypt-like jail cell.

These haunted catacombs make my skin crawl, primarily because I can feel the old Mythos Fae spirits writhing in wait down here, searching for an opportunity to escape.

But they're forever incarcerated underground, punished for their sins and blamed for what happened to our Omegas.

I won't allow them to absorb my power or use me as a vessel. Not that they can reach me anyway. They're all trapped in Pandora's Box—a magically secured prison, guarded by its creator, Ares.

Ignoring the chilly sensation inching up my arms, I call forth the mirrorlike doorway. It opens with ease, my mind and soul already locked into the manifestation energy associated with this particular domain.

I step through the mirror and out into the middle of the living area of the suite, and freeze.

Slick.

My eyes widen, my focus instantly on the bedroom door.

Omega. Slick.

The portal shatters behind me, the glass disappearing before it can hit the floor, and my feet move before my brain can catch up with the motion.

Only for Flame to step right into my path, his expression severe. "Don't. She gave him consent. I heard it."

"What?" I don't understand his words. Why is he stopping me from going to my Omega? She's wet. She's ready. And fuck, is that her moaning?

I teleport around Flame, ready to charge in and take what's rightfully mine.

My hand is on the knob when something hard and heavy tackles me to the ground, drawing a growl from my chest. "What the fuck?" I demand, curious about the two-hundred-plus-pound jaguar on top of me.

He snarls in my face.

I snarl back.

And we grapple across the ground as my Omega moans again from behind the door.

I'm going to fucking kill this Shifter Fae if he doesn't let me go to her. She's in need. She's begging. My knot pulses in response, ready to fill her. To rut her. To breed her.

Mine,my Alpha purrs. Fucking mine.

But a pair of jaws around my throat forces me to freeze. Flame has me pinned, his teeth digging into my skin and drawing blood.

"You have a death wish, half-breed," I growl at him.

I swear the cat fucking chuckles on top of me.

"Get off of me, Flame."

He doesn't.

And my Omega stops moaning.

My eyes strain to hear her, my body so fucking primed that if I could teleport to her without risking my throat, I would. But the damn jaguar's fangs would probably slice me open along the way, turning me into a less-than-handsome sight for my betrothed.

Oh, I'd heal.

However, I doubt my Omega would like the sight of all the blood running down my chest.

"Taste yourself," I hear Reaper say, making my lips curl down.

What?

At first, I think he's talking about my blood.

But then I realize… he's not in the room with us.

He's… he's with Alina.

My eyes round.

"Describe it to me," Reaper goes on. "Tell me what your pussy tastes like, pet."

Ohhhh, fuck.

Those words. The vision accompanying them. The realization that he's playing with our Omega. The sound of her gorgeous acceptance…

"Sweet," she says, the softness of her voice displaying no signs of disquiet or discontent. She's pleased. Aroused, even. "I taste sweet. Like the strawberry cupcakes. But there's a subtle hint of something tangy, too."

I groan, my mouth watering at the description.

I want her slick on my tongue, coating my lips, drenching my throat.

And then I want to sink deep into her sweet heat and claim her.

Mark her.

Bite her.

Breed her.

The latter is an instinctive response to finding my Omega after so many millennia of searching. I want her pumped full of my seed, pregnant with the next generation of Mythos Fae, and resting tenderly in an Omega nest filled with children.

I don't even care that some will be Reaper's or Flame's kids, because they'll all have Mythos Fae blood running through their veins.

They'll all be products of her.

My Omega. Our mate.

Flame slowly eases off me, likely noticing that the fight has fled from my limbs, and returns to his human form. "Your Alpha's an asshole," he says, touching his jaw.

I hadn't even realized I'd hit him.

But I don't apologize.

Mainly because his teeth marks are still in my neck. "The same could be said about your fucking cat," I mutter.

"Call him a cat again and see what happens," he dares me.

I snort. But I know better than to taunt his beast. He's a fierce creature, one who could easily bite my head off. Literally.

Fortunately, it would grow back.

Because Mythos Fae can't die.

Hence the prison I just left. Pandora's Box is the only item that can trap a Mythos Fae's essence.

I push up off the floor to a seated position, my gaze returning to the quiet bedroom. Reaper murmurs something to Alina that I don't listen to; I want to give them their privacy.

"She gave consent?" I confirm again.

But of course she did.

While Reaper is a lot of things, he isn't a rapist. He values consent, just like the two of us.

"Eagerly," Flame replies. "She basically begged him to touch her."

"That she did," Reaper murmurs as he appears in the room, wearing a pair of low-slung gray sweatpants. "I'm off to fetch our pet a few cupcakes. Want anything from the kitchen while I'm there? Something strawberry-flavored, perhaps?" He waggles his brows.

Flame flips him off.

I just sigh. "I'll be fine with coffee." Because I haven't slept and could use the caffeine. Not that it would do anything for me physically, but mentally, I would enjoy it.

Reaper just grins like he's won a prize, which I suppose he has, and vanishes.

Flame stares at the door, his dick pointing toward it as though to signal its owner on which direction it would like to go.

I almost tell him to put on a pair of fucking pants, but I see the boxers he shredded in his shift lying a few feet away from him.

He obviously didn't have time to remove them before pouncing on me.

Running my palm over my face, I say, "I'm going to drink some coffee, then talk to the Strigoi." They gave me directions to their room last night. "Go take care of your barb, then see if Alina needs anything."

Flame rolls his head toward me, his violet irises resembling a burning flame. "There will be no taking care of this. I'm going to be hard until I finally mount her."

He stands, his movements agile, and bends to grab his shredded shorts.

"But I'll check on her after I find some pants," he adds, glancing around the room.

I watch as he pulls on a pair of jeans, wincing when he does up the zipper. Primarily because I know exactly how he feels right now. My own knot is pulsing against the confines of my pants, demanding release.

And after hearing those delectable sounds from the other room, I doubt my cock will ever be soft again.

Not to mention the lingering scent of slick,I think, inhaling deeply.

It's not as potent as before, but it's still there. Heady and sweet. A beckoning fragrance that dares me to steal a taste.

Soon,I promise my inner Alpha. Soon.