Page 6 of Ruined By His Alpha King
“My nursemaid and child are resting, but later… You will pay for this. Darkening your hair? Your beautiful fair locks.” Stamel reached around to feel Seidrik’s body and squeezed his hip. “And practicing at the sword? You really do wish to be a beta.”
Seidrik attempted to pull away and swatted fruitlessly at Stamel’s hands. “There will be no later. I’m here to take you back with me to Liaberos after the babe is born and help Ingred learn to use the telecon.”
“And what about our little secret?” Stamel leaned into Seidrik’s personal space, nose running along the male’s chin. “I could ruin you.”
Seidrik grew a little spine and shoved Stamel back, face a mask of anger. “And you think I’m not already ruined? The goddess all but told Father I was an omega. I’ll notsirea family. That I never spoke to her! I find it fortunate that he’s likely incredibly dim! Telling him I’m an omega would only do you a disservice since it’s by my leave that you’re invited to Liaberos and not excised completely. So, go ahead and tell him and you’ll have nowhere else that will take you. My secret has become yourundoing.”
Seidrik pushed his palm against Stamel’s chest, forcing him a step back before he circumnavigated him and took a quiet seat in one of the guest lounge chairs.
This won’t do at all.Not having control over Seidrik? Not since they’d become adults had Seidrik made the mistake of crossing paths. Kisses were for the children they were. But, Stamel had an ace up his sleeve. One he’d held onto for so very long.
Why? Because almost fifteen years ago, he sat in a glade and watched a nymph strip the horns off of a sobbing omega and traded them away to the young alpha playing on the other side of the glade for a half cask of honey…and he couldn’t remember what else. At the time, it had seemed kind of important but… Maybe it was a middle name or something. Stamel didn’t have one, so maybe he did… But it didn’t matter. He had two sun elk horns at the bottom of a holy cedar chest in want of their owner. And if Stamel returned them, he’d be owed a great debt. One that Seidrik could never refuse.
Stamel took his time in walking back to a chair to settle down. His eyes cast sideways toward the young boy sleeping.
“How many of those you have, now?”
“Three.” Stamel flicked a brow. “And you?”
Seidrik scoffed. “Never found any cock worth the trouble.”
Interesting.
“I do frequent public houses, though. Pay the matron to put me up in a room every so often. Most of the time for my begging night, sometimes because I need an afternoon to letitout. I don’t need to do so as much anymore. Not since…” Seidrik’s gaze drifted toward the window.
“Since you sold your horns for a nymph’s true name?” Stamel rolled his eyes when Seidrik startled. “Like I wouldn’t notice. From the moment I kissedyou, you were mine, little omega. And I protect what is mine.”
“From the looks of it, many omegas are yours. Forgive me if I don’t consider this an honor.” Seidrik gestured toward the child.
“That’s my youngest, Tyran,” Stamel spoke softly. “Since I hold a secret of yours, I’ll tell you mine.”
Seidrik glanced toward him, brow raised curiously.
“Kimbel, my oldest, who is on his way, is the product of an affair that was not my choosing. I was not yet a man, though his father was, and I was taken advantage of. The other two are mine by the goddess’ will. Their true studs are under my thumb.”
“I see.” Seidrik eyed the child. “That red hair, though.”
“Same red hair that the senior administrator of the treasury has. He’s related to my alpha father.” Stamel picked at his teeth. “And if he wants his little dalliance to remain a secret, he’ll leave the omega alone, leave the child alone, and keep his nose so clean it shines.”
“And the other?” Seidrik held a glimmer of hope in his expression.
“Merchant Guild master. If I want something, he gets it. If I want prices lowered, he does it. Easy as can be.” Stamel eyed Seidrik up and down, his lingering gaze making the male uncomfortable, if his posture and expression were any indicator.
“Sounds as if you’re good at manipulating people.” Seidrik studied his nails and glanced back out the window. There was nothing to see but a sprawling urban area leading into rural countryside. The same view Stamel had seen every day of his life.
“The best at it.” Stamel glanced toward the other door as his nursemaid, Camelia, shuffled in.
“Ah, Tyran’s down for a nap. Shall I move him?” She yawned.
“I think it’s time he woke before it gets too late in the day. Else wise he’ll never go to sleep. You know how he gets,” Stamel said, grinning fondly as she went to the cot to wake the little one. He rubbed at his little cheeks and mewled in discomfort until Camelia picked him up.
“Right, sir. We’ll go play until dinnertime. Then he’s all yours.” She swept out of the room, skirts swishing. “And I might give him a sweet or two so he can give you a taste of his energy.”
“I look forward to it.” Stamel waved the woman off and blew a kiss to his child, who beamed. He really did love the little one.
Stamel wondered, idly, if he could make Seidrik love him, too. He’d make a lovely pater one day, round and swollen with child, chest swollen with milk, nipples pink and raw. The thought consumed him until Seidrik stood abruptly, snapping him from thought. “Seidrik?”
“Tea. Could we have some tea sent up?” He cleared his throat.
