Page 40 of The Omega Slave

“You are too kind,” she murmured and the loss of her hand as she drew it back was like a knife to his gut. He realized belatedly that she had sat and sank into his chair.

“How can I help you?” In the back of his mind, he shied away from the word. Help? He had never helped anyone that didn’t help him, and he knew nothing of this woman except her beauty.

And there were many beautiful women, and all could be bought. He needed to get himself together and remember who he was.

“I am hoping we can help each other.” Her voice was as musical as the bells that tinkled when she moved, and as discreetly as he could, Gabar tried to move to give his pants a little more room.

“What—” Gabar coughed to clear his throat. “How can we help each other?”

She dipped her head and Gabar felt the loss of her gaze. Her eyes were blue, but a beautiful cerulean, more magnificent than any sky or sea. They were framed by long golden lashes that matched her hair. Thick tresses hung in complicated twists, adorned with the same bells that made such perfect music that his body strained even more.

“My people come to petition for land. You have a desert area to your west that is inhospitable to your people, as there is no water readily available.”

The fog of lust seemed to clear a little as she mentioned land, and the wanton fingers of greed wrapped him up in a familiar cloak. He let his gaze run over her body, and wished his hands could do the same, preferably while she was trapped underneath him. “We have plans to irrigate the land.” Ridiculously expensive plans that had never come to fruition, but she didn’t know that.

“I would never expect, nor would my people, for you to gift the land. I am sure you would find it in your heart to do so, but my people would never accept charity, simply a fair exchange.”

Gabar had to hand it to her. She’d basically called him generous and charitable—which was so laughable as to be ridiculous—and at the same time blamed her own people for refusing an offer he would never make in the first place.

“Exchange?” What did they have? He had plenty of coin.

“I have been sent because I am a beast-master.”

Gabar frowned. A beast-master? He had plenty of grooms.

“I don’t mean beasts of burden,” she said slowly, and a prickle of something entirely different from lust ran down his spine.

“Exactly what do you mean?” He leaned forward as he strained to hear her answer.

“I mean, I can control the beasts that live inside of men. The ones that they are able to change into.”

His heart picked up even more.“Control?”

She inclined her head. “I understand, for example, that Cadmeera has ridiculous rules. That a king can only ascend when he proves his true mate can shift into a beast. A beast-master has no need for such restrictions.” She looked him square in the eye. “I can bring forth any beast that shares the body of a man, and when I do, I have complete control over it…or shouldI say, those that are commanding me will have complete control over it.”

Gabar put a hand on his chest as if to contain his heart that was beating so hard it threatened to escape. “Any beast?” Because dragons were mythical creatures with magic of their own.

“Any beast, even mythical ones,” she confirmed, “and if we came to an arrangement, then whoever controlled me would control the beast.”

He sat back because his heart was pounding so hard it hurt. If he controlled Kamir and his dragon, then he controlled the imperial guard, and likewise the people. He wouldn’t need to bother with his useless sons. Kamir would simply be a figurehead, and the real power would be in his hands. And perhaps, slowly, the forces and the people would get used to him, so if he ever wanted a complete transition of power, it would be accepted. “I’m sure you wouldn’t expect me to simply take the word of a stranger, beautiful though you may be,” he said with a smile that generally got results.

“Did you know your slave-master has a hidden wolf?”

Gabar blinked in astonishment. Ibrahim? A wolf-shifter? That was impossible.

“He is unaware of it, but I felt it as soon as we met.”

“I—” But he pressed his lips together. That was unbelievable, but then rumors told of the Cadmeeran consort being unaware he had a wolf until he met the king. She sat still, waiting, as if daring him to ask.

“Prove it,” he said softly, and got up and pulled the cord to summon a slave. Ibrahim himself answered, which told him that the slave-master was waiting outside to satisfy his own curiosity.

Ibrahim entered and bowed low. “How may I serve you, my lord?”

Gabar glanced at Elainore and she stood, extending her hand to the slave as if she were a noble lady. Ibrahim didn’t hesitate to take it, but as he began to bow, she clasped his fingers tight. Ibrahim jerked and tried to straighten, but she kept hold and murmured words Gabar couldn’t hear.

Ibrahim gasped and bent over, and she stepped back. His slave-master stumbled and fell to his knees, a cry working from his throat. Gabar watched in utter fascination as Ibrahim fell forward onto his hands, fur sprouting from his bare arms. His face elongated and changed. Gabar could hear the sickening sound of bones breaking as his shape changed. He opened his mouth as if to utter another cry and bloodied fangs erupted.

But then Elainore uttered more words and Ibrahim froze. His body shook, agony twisted his features.

---