Page 19 of Warlord’s Prize

But I can't stop. The strategic challenges draw me in despite myself, my mind lighting up with solutions and possibilities I haven't been allowed to explore in years. And each success means more security for Haven Valley, more food for my people, more protection from worse alternatives.

When my latest reorganization of storage facilities prevents significant losses during an unexpected storm, one of the senior administrators nods reluctantly in my direction. "The omega has unusual perspective," he admits grudgingly.

The acknowledgment should feel like victory. Instead, it tastes like ash.

Later, as Kazuul claims me in the now-familiar routine of our nights together, I face the most disturbing evidence of my changing reality. My body no longer fights his invasive size but welcomes it, slick flowing freely as his massive cock stretches me beyond what I once thought possible. The pain that dominated our early couplings has transformed into something else—a fullness that my omega biology craves with embarrassing eagerness.

His claiming has evolved as well. He's learned my body with disturbing precision, his massive hands finding places that make me gasp, his mouth leaving marks across my skin that fade but never fully disappear before he refreshes them. The vibrating nodule that once felt like such violation now creates pleasure so intense it borders on pain, my body arching toward it rather than away.

"Your scent changes when you think of our matings," he comments one evening, his nostrils flaring as he studies me across his private chambers. "Your body speaks truth your words deny."

I look away, shame burning my cheeks hot. "My body isn't me."

"Isn't it?" he asks, massive hand tilting my face back toward him with surprising gentleness. "The mind commands, but flesh remembers what truly satisfies."

His words dig into the growing gap between my principles and my physical responses. Most humiliating is my growing dependency on the pleasure his vibrating nodule provides—the way my core clenches in anticipation when he reaches for me, knowing the intense orgasms that await. I catch myself thinking about it at odd moments—during administrative meetings, while eating meals, as I bathe.

That night, he claims me with unusual patience, positioning me on my side, his massive body curled around mine from behind. This new angle allows him to reach deeper than ever before, the vibrating nodule finding new places to stimulate that make me shake with unwanted pleasure.

I fight my response as long as possible, determined to maintain some shred of mental resistance even as my body surrenders completely. One massive hand cradles my breast, thumb circling my nipple with surprising delicacy for something so large. His other hand grips my hip, holding me in place as he moves within me in slow, deep thrusts that hit places that make stars explode behind my eyelids.

When release finally comes, it tears through me with such intensity that tears leak from my eyes, my back arching against his chest as my entire body convulses with pleasure I never wanted to feel.

"Why fight what brings such pleasure?" he asks afterward, massive fingers wiping moisture from my cheeks with surprising tenderness.

I have no answer that makes sense anymore.

The next morning, I limp slightly as I enter the omega garden, muscles sore from the night's activities. Vora sits on her usual bench, the morning sun highlighting the intricate scarification patterns across her arms. Her knowing eyes take in my careful movements, the slight wince as I lower myself beside her.

"The strategic advisor returns," she says, a hint of something unreadable in her tone.

"Is that what they're calling me?"

"Among other things." She doesn't elaborate, but I can imagine the whispers—the claimed omega who thinks she's more than breeding stock, the human female presuming to advise oni warriors.

Her scarred fingers close over mine, surprisingly strong for someone so petite. "Every improvement you create changes not just the outcome but the system itself," she says quietly. "Perhaps you're reshaping your chains rather than simply reinforcing them."

I consider her words as I leave the garden, my mind already mapping approaches to the grain storage problem Kazuul mentioned yesterday. The distinction feels important—am I collaborating or infiltrating? Surrendering or adapting?

The line between resistance and survival has never felt so blurry.

CHAPTER9

FAILED ESCAPE

Three weeks into my captivity,and I've memorized everything—guard rotations, servant schedules, even which floorboards creak when stepped on. My military training didn't go to waste after all.

Tonight, the stars align in my favor. An administrative error—some mix-up in the guard rotation schedule—leaves the eastern corridor temporarily unguarded during shift change. It's the opportunity I've been waiting for, the crack in their seemingly perfect system.

I slip from my chambers, heart pounding so hard I worry the sound alone might give me away. The silken garments Kazuul insists I wear make no sound as I move through the darkness. At least they're good for something.

The massive stone corridors feel different at night—more threatening, more alien. Torches flicker at distant intervals, leaving long stretches of shadow between pools of orange light. The stone beneath my bare feet radiates cold that seeps into my bones, a sharp contrast to the perpetual heat of Kazuul's chambers. Perfect for hiding. Terrible for seeing what might be hiding with you.

I press myself against the wall at a junction, counting my breaths as I listen for movement. One... two... three... The coast seems clear.

Every shadow makes me freeze. Every distant sound sends ice through my veins. Oni have senses so much sharper than humans—they can smell fear, hear heartbeats, see in near darkness. My own scent betrays me with each anxious breath, and I know any passing guard would detect it instantly. If any oni spots me, it's over.

But I have to try. Haven Valley feels like a distant dream now, my leadership there belonging to another lifetime. Yet my people still depend on me, even if they don't know it. If I stay here, I'll eventually become exactly what Kazuul wants—a willing breeding vessel, strategic advisor, claimed omega with no will beyond pleasing her alpha.

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