Stolen (Alpha's Claim 4)

Jules had crossed a line; Jacques growing before him as he spat, “Females are protected and cherished here. Our laws are extensive!”

The Beta Ambassador did not flinch, but he did slide his gaze from the Commodore to his silent and seething Security Advisor in the corner. “I stand corrected.”

Ancil growled.

The insult would not stand. Not after the extortion and Shepherd’s rudeness. Jacques had his own threats to make. “I am tempted to have you and each of your Omegas immediately executed.”

It was Ancil who stepped forward. Ancil who smelled of fear and outright challenge. “What would the females have known? They are only women. Lucia should not be held accountable for this fool’s—”

Jules raised his hand, cutting off the alarmed Alpha to address the Commodore. “You may have us executed. Shepherd will not retaliate for such a response. I guarantee, were he in your position, he would have already ordered our deaths—they would have been public and they would have been painful. That is your choice, but I have been instructed to make certain you understand his only interest is in your potential actions concerning Thólos. What happens under Bernard Dome is none of his concern. What lessons you may take from what I’ve shown you are yours to decide. Could what happened in Thólos happen here? I don’t know. I don’t care. That would be your problem to solve.”

He had a great deal to consider and this was not the place for deliberation. Jacques spoke his ruling, “You are no longer allowed free rein of the palace or city, Ambassador Havel. You are to remain quarantined on your ship. You will not be granted clearance to leave until I have made my decision regarding your neck.”

Offering a bow, Jules accepted the terms. “As you say.”

Cutting a glance to Ancil, Jacques ordered, “Lucia is to be under house arrest. The remaining Omegas will remain in confinement.”

Ancil was not appeased. Not one bit. “She’s pregnant with my child, Jacques.”

Colder than ice, Jacques turned his back on his friend and moved toward the door. “You already have a son and heir.”Brenya’s meeting with George had been short, the pair having little time to do more than sit on a retaining wall near the gate and speak quietly with one another—if they spoke at all. Comfortable silence was more soothing than answering questions, and George had never been the talkative type.

But she had given him one stern warning. “Do not do anything that might risk your reassignment.”

Confusion wrinkled the skin between George’s eyes. “Are you unfulfilled with your newest assignment?”

“There is no assignment. Do you understand what I’m saying?” Huffing out frustration in an attempt to quash the ache in her heart, Brenya added, “There is no new assignment no matter your skill set or service record. There is no mercy, George. That’s why I wanted to say goodbye today. I needed to thank you for everything. I could not have asked for a better tech. I know you’re the reason I wasn’t cut from the rigging.”

“I knew you would climb up. You always do.” He seemed oblivious to the praise. “It has been nice to confirm you are well. Now, I must report for duty.”

She could see it in his mannerisms, in the way he replied. She must have been just like him a few short weeks ago. Robotic. “Of course. Thank you for making time to visit me.”

“You smell very appealing at this moment.” George stood, adjusting his jumpsuit and offering a salute. “I would be interested in submitting a mating invoice, if you were amenable. I have leave for mental hygiene in three days.”

Brenya blinked. She could think of nothing to say beyond, “I will be unavailable. My apologies, Unit 512XT.”

The Beta turned to leave with no further formality. He turned to leave as if he had no idea what had transpired. How could he know? How could he know anything protected as he was with fulfilling work and chemical-laced beta rations that made a simple life meaningful.

Waiting until he cleared the line and was out of her sight forever, Brenya whispered, “Goodbye, George. Thank you for being my friend.”

One of the massive Alpha guards shadowing Brenya interrupted her reverie. “You are drawing undo attention and should return to the palace now. We have orders to limit your exposure to crowds.”

Glassy-eyed, Brenya brought her head up. There were strangers, mostly male, edging closer and sniffing. More than one had an obvious erection.

George had not meant to make her feel unclean with his request to mate, but it had been a reminder of why Jacques kept her as his pet. Omegas only had one purpose: an Alpha’s pleasure. Finding utter strangers eyeing her, knowing what they wanted, how they would use her, made the inevitable end of the day more bearable.

Who would want to live like this?