He’d promised Zaya and Mikhail justice and intended to deliver.
“Give me a few more minutes to look around,” he told his brother, kicking at a large pile of ash. “I want to see if we can find anything useful before we go.”
Something solid thudded beneath his boot.
“What’s that?” Already quicker than the rest of them, Damien squatted and, rooting around, held up a small, bluish-black lump.
Nikolai’s chest squeezed. “That’s Naytalia’s ring. I remember the sapphire. The Kuril head gave it to her recently. It made her happy.”
Damien’s eyes lit up. “We can sell it. Get some more food for the trip.”
Nikolai snatched it from him. “We’ll see.” Thanks to the Lundin omega girl, he already had a nice nest egg to fall back on. Except it felt wrong to sell any of it.
And that felt even more wrong. Her father had killed his family. He should want nothing more to do with her.
“I don’t see anything else.” Damien paused. “Wait. What’s that?” He bounded across the space, his usual fearlessness returning. Plunging his fingers into another pile of ash, he scooped up a glob of dark, twisted metal that looked like it had once been a perfectly formed circle.
The sight of it stole Nikolai’s breath. “Bring it here.”
Damien’s gaze was wary as he slapped it into Nikolai’s hand. His brother had heard the grief he couldn’t quite hide.
Fucking weakness. He’d have to cut it out of himself if was going to be the leader his family needed.
Nikolai willed his voice to steady. “It looks like Zaya’s teething ring.” His little sister had loved to slobber all over that thing.
Damien’s face twisted as if he might cry.
Nikolai understood.
This was exactly the kind of object he’d been looking for, and yet . . . it drove home the truth. Neither Zaya nor Mikhail would ever use it again. They were gone.
The blackened edges of the teething ring dug into his palm. “Time to go.”
It was time to plot and plan and grow strong.
Then, he was coming back and burning to ash every single dream Olan Lundin and his family ever had. Like they’d done to his flesh and blood.
Nikolai sucked down a harsh breath. The omega’s block slammed into him, extinguishing the vision from his mind and the air above.
He tumbled back into the present as if he’d fallen through time and hit the ground hard. Except he hadn’t moved at all.
He was still on the floor of his private shuttle, in a nest of sheets and pillows, his arms wrapped tight around the omega, her back to his front, his dick knotted deep inside her.
Rage filled him—and not just because she’d somehow gotten her block to return and end the visions. Once again, she’d seen his pain and doubts.
“Nikolai, I am sorry.” Her voice was soft and kind.
It stung worse than any cruelty.
“When I’m not fucking you, my title is Alpha, omega—and I don’t need your pity.” That was the last thing he wanted from her. “I need your gift to show me what happened the rotation of the fire. I don’t need to revisit any of this other shit.”
She stiffened. “I don’t know how the vision came on in the first place, much less what stopped it.”
She tugged at his arms, trying to squirm away—only to grind against him, her cunt gripping his cock harder.
The knot swelled tight.
He growled.
She moaned.
Hells, the lust between them was explosive, stronger even than their animosity and the taint of that last vision.
The heat would pull them under soon enough.
Another vision would surely follow. This time he needed to be better prepared.
Fighting the descent into rut, he lifted her with him as he sat up. He scooted backward, dragging her toward the desk. Each movement sent his cock channeling deeper inside her.
“What are you doing? Let me go.” She was fighting the lust, but she was panting hard.
And barely lucid. If she had been more clear-headed, she’d remember there was no letting her go. Not while the knot locked them together.
“You will have another vision.” Reaching his destination, he slammed his palm against the drawer and unlocked it, pulling Zaya’s melted teething ring from inside. He had no idea if holding an item connected to the fire would help focus her gift, but it was worth a try.
He forced it into the omega’s hand and wrapped her fingers around it.
“Hold this and make it happen.” After what she’d seen—his doubts, his fears, his weaknesses—he felt driven to prove he wasn’t that scared, pathetic boy anymore. He was a Brotherhood head. He’d risen from the fucking ashes to become his own deadly fire. He was worthy of her respect, and so much more.
She struggled against his hold. “I can’t just make it happen.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both!”
Even now, she defied him. Kept herself from him.
He leaned forward, sank his fangs back into the place he’d already marked.
She whimpered, but her struggles lessened.
He growled low and deep, the Alpha call.
“N-no.” She moaned, but the husky, needy tone was already returning to her voice, her body going soft and pliant as the bond deepened and the heat pulled her under once more, her omega instincts rising to the fore.
But she was not the only one affected.
His need rose too, and with it, other urges as well. Urges that whispered that she was unhappy, and he needed to fix it. That fucking her, tasting her, pleasuring her, and hearing that purr were more important than anything else.
He fought it. His family was counting on him. Their fates, and that of his omega, depended upon him seeing his plans to fruition. He could not afford to be weak. He had to control the bond and his omega. He could not allow it to be the other way around.
Weakness now would only get them all killed.
Still, his tongue laved over the puncture marks, healing them as fast as he could. “You are a Skolov now, omega. You will be loyal to me.”
She sighed, rocking on his cock.
His control slipped another notch. His lucidity too.
He could feel the rut taking him.
“Give me the vision,” he commanded. “Drop the block. Submit, as you were always meant to do.”
Nothing.
“Purr.”
Silence.
She was more disobedient than he’d realized. Even lost in the heat, she refused to submit.
Guiding her back to her knees, he then forced her flat to the ground, following her down with his big body, his knot still lodged deep inside her cunt.
Slap. Slap. He spanked both cheeks. “No defiance.”
She hissed and tried to scramble away, but the knot held her fast.
He rolled to the side and took her with him, ensuring that her bottom was pressed tight to his hips, slinging her leg over his thick thigh so she was open to his touch.
Slap. This time he spanked her wet cunt.
She cried out.
He held fast. Her body was his to command.
But hells, disciplining her was fucking with him as well. Stealing the last of his control. His thoughts drifted away as pure, primal need subsumed everything else.
“Vision.” He stroked her folds, feather-light touches, gratified when she whined, her hips lifting toward his hands. “Or be punished.”