Page 1 of Naga's Mate

PROLOGUE: THE WORLD AFTER THE CONQUEST

Ten years ago, the fabric between dimensions tore open without warning.

The rifts appeared simultaneously across major cities worldwide, disgorging creatures humanity had relegated to myth and nightmare. Dragons soared over metropolitan skylines. Kraken tentacles emerged from harbors and lakes. Plant beings erupted from parks and forests. Shadow demons poured from darkened alleys and underneath beds. Within days, the world as humanity knew it ceased to exist.

Scientists would later theorize that environmental destruction, experimental quantum physics, or perhaps simply cosmic chance had caused these dimensional tears. Whatever the cause, the effect was undeniable—monsters had returned to Earth, and they brought with them biological imperatives that would reshape human society forever.

The beings that emerged were not mindless beasts but intelligent predators with their own hierarchies, cultures, and overwhelming biological drives. Most significantly, they operated on an alpha/omega dynamic far more potent than the vestigial secondary gender system that had existed in humans for millennia. Upon arrival, these creatures—collectively termed "Primes" in official documentation—immediately detected human omegas, whose existence had been largely marginalized in pre-Conquest society.

Human alpha males were systematically eliminated in what became known as the Blood Week. Military resistance crumbled when Prime alphas demonstrated abilities beyond human comprehension—dragons that could withstand missile strikes, shadow demons who could move through solid matter, plant creatures who could control vegetation across entire regions. When the United Nations attempted emergency peace negotiations, the Primes made their terms clear: surrender all omega females for "integration" and eliminate alpha males who might compete for breeding rights.

Some nations attempted to fight. None succeeded. By the end of the first month, the Conquest was complete. A new world order had begun.

In this new reality, human omegas face a stark truth—their biology, once a minor footnote in human existence, now defines their entire future. The Primes operate under Conquest Law, which grants them undisputed right to claim any unmated omega they encounter. Resistance is futile; suppressing omega nature through chemicals only delays the inevitable.

For ten years, humans have lived under Prime rule, the world divided into territories controlled by different monster species. Dragons rule the Eastern Seaboard, their fire and fury reshaping cities into nesting grounds. Nagas control the Southern waterways, transforming swamps and bayous into breeding territories. Shadow demons command the urban Midwest, their darkness penetrating every corner of once-bright cities. Each Prime species has carved out its domain, establishing hierarchies where humans serve and omegas breed.

Some humans resist, operating in secret networks to smuggle suppressants, hide omegas, and undermine Prime authority when possible. But their efforts are drops in an ocean of change. The world belongs to the Primes now, and human society exists at their mercy.

For omegas, life offers limited options: be claimed by a Prime alpha willing to provide protection in exchange for breeding rights, end up in government breeding facilities where personal identity is stripped away, or attempt to hide using increasingly ineffective suppressants—a path that grows more dangerous with each passing year.

This is the world of the Conquest, where ancient monsters rule with primal authority, where human omegas are prized for their fertility, and where the boundaries between captivity and connection blur with each passing generation of hybrid offspring. In this world, monsters and humans forge unexpected bonds, finding that even in darkness, connection can bloom—though never on equal terms.

For the lucky few omegas, captivity by a single powerful alpha might be preferable to the alternatives. And for some, against all odds, what begins as forced claiming may evolve into something neither species expected—something that might, generations hence, bridge the divide between conqueror and conquered.

This is where our story begins.

CHAPTER1

SURVIVAL THROUGH SCIENCE

The sweet,cloying perfume of theNymphaea nocturnafills my nostrils as I extract another drop of its luminescent nectar. My hands remain perfectly steady—fear-induced tremors are a weakness I purged years ago. Steady fingers, steady mind. Both essential for survival in this world. Especially for someone with my secret.

An omega hiding in plain sight.

The thought sends an electric current down my spine as I deposit the drop into my centrifuge tube. The plant's bioluminescent fluid casts an otherworldly azure glow across my hidden laboratory, illuminating specialized equipment I've assembled through five years of cautious acquisition and ingenuity.

Five years since the Conquest shattered reality. Five years since nightmares stepped through dimensional tears and decided humans made excellent breeding stock. Five years of masquerading as a harmless beta botanist while secretly formulating the compounds that mask my true nature.

"Almost there," I murmur, my words absorbed by the moisture-laden air. The humidity hovers at 78%—still uncomfortable for humans but necessary for my specimens to thrive. Perspiration traces paths along my temples despite the controlled temperature. New Ophidia, once New Orleans, now exists in perpetual tropical conditions to accommodate its serpentine masters.

I slide my finger across the analyzer's display, studying the biochemical profile of my latest suppressant batch. The results twist my insides into cold, hard knots.

"Damn it."

The concentration is dangerously insufficient. TheOphidia sedativaextract—the crucial component that binds to omega pheromone receptors—registers at barely 0.3%. I need at least 0.8% for the formula to remain effective for a full lunar cycle.

My eyes drift to the small drawer where I store the rare blue orchid. The reality I've been avoiding confronts me in the form of three withered stems and a handful of desiccated petals. Inadequate. Critically inadequate.

I sink onto my stool, allowing myself precisely ten seconds of controlled panic. Ten. Nine. Eight. The countdown anchors my racing thoughts. By zero, my mind has already constructed a solution.

The timing is abysmal. Section G of the main greenhouse—where theOphidia sedativagrows—was placed under restricted access yesterday. Some high-ranking inspection from the Serpent Dominion's central authority has brought increased surveillance, guards at every junction, and zero tolerance for unauthorized human presence after curfew.

I examine the medical injector on my workbench containing my current suppressant dose. The liquid has developed a subtle cloudiness—visual evidence of its deteriorating efficacy. Twenty-six days on this batch, with normal replacement scheduled for day twenty-eight. But given the diminishing potency I've observed recently, I calculate roughly thirty-six hours before my omega biology begins to announce itself.

Thirty-six hours before I start exuding the scent that marks me as unclaimed breeding stock.

The nagas, with their hyper-refined chemical perception, would identify it instantly. A single taste of the air with those forked tongues would expose what I've concealed since I was twenty-three—that I'm not the beta female documented in their meticulous human inventories, but an omega who should have been registered, claimed, and bred years ago.

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