Wolf Omega: Lykanos Chronicles 2

The following morning, Duccio summoned me to his office. He could see plainly that I hadn’t slept, and I saw the weariness still in his eyes. He’d worn the same look on his face the night before when he wouldn’t allow me to collect the dead child’s body to bury it in the forest. Duccio had insisted that the suffering his parents would endure would be even worse if their boy remained unheard of forever.

Instead, he pulled the stones from the cellar floor and dug the earth away to expose the rotting bodies. The village authorities would discover what had happened and conclude that a predator had lived among them. It would offer the parents of each child a resolved peace, no matter how little, and that was reason enough to leave the boys to be found where they lay.

After propping the cellar door open, Duccio whisked me away and returned us home to Castello Palatino, where we arrived long before dawn. Again, I found myself sitting in a bath as the witnessed nightmare ran through my mind hour after hour. I wondered if I could ever find rest after what I’d seen.

Duccio took me in his arms, just as Sempronio might, and held me as I finally wept.

“You are so strong,” he said, even as I shook my head. “I am so proud of that strength; of what you did last night.”

“I failed,” I answered. “I failed them all.”

“You avenged them,” he countered softly. “You stopped that monster from ever harming another child. Think of what that will mean to their parents, who could do nothing—to at last know their sons are at peace.”

“I wish you’d never taken me there,” I said weakly.

“Nonsense. This is the path we’ve chosen,” Duccio insisted, “and you’ve proven your worth to this house.”

It occurred to me that he meant to reward me somehow, which was the very last thing I expected. I didn’t want any such recognition—I preferred not even to think about what I’d done.

“I wish for you to become my bride,” he whispered.

The statement passed through me with no real acknowledgment at first. Duccio’s meaning didn’t register, and I jerked my head involuntarily as I searched to understand.

“Sempronio could not have been more right about your gifts--I see that now. Yours is the strength that must form the future of this house.”

My only response was to stare at him, first with misapprehension and then disbelief. He couldn’t mean what he said.

“I will announce our union for all to hear at dinner tonight. There is no point in telling Ambrosius or Pompeia in advance. All should know of my decision together.”

I stepped back from Duccio, unwilling to accept his statement.

“You can’t be serious,” I said.

“None of them can do what you did last night—find that child as you did—and expose the viper who’d haunted that village. Only Sempronio can search through a man’s mind as you can, and he has long since abandoned his duties to this pack. Even with my age and talents, I can’t pull memories into a stream of consciousness, as you demonstrated. Do you know the value of that gift alone? Do you know what it might mean for the people under our protection?”

“But you have a wife, signore,” I countered, at once feeling indignant.

“I am the master of this pack, and I will place by my side whoever is most fit to maintain its power and effectiveness. You will be my alpha bride. You will partner with me to lead the pack. Together, we will ensure the survival and dominance of our house and produce the next generations of powerful lycan.”

“This is all nonsense,” I rose my voice and stepped back from him. “I will not be your wife.”

Duccio might have looked insulted had I bothered to see past my aggravation.

“You misunderstand,” he countered. “You are a member of this pack, and I am your alpha. I will place you in whichever position I wish, and you will bear my children. If you do not wish to call yourself my bride, my wife, or even my lover, then do not. But you will perform your duties to this house.”

His words stunned me. I couldn’t account for such a statement.

“How could you ever think to do such a thing to Pompeia?” I asked, bewildered at the calm ease by which he meant to set her aside.

“Pompeia is an excellent delta, and I cannot fault her loyalty or performance, but she has not fulfilled her duties to me as a wife. Understand, I do not hold this against her. And had she ever produced a child for me, I might reconsider my decision,” he confessed. “But she has not. So, I must choose another.”

To hear Duccio’s dismissal of my beloved friend—that Pompeia’s value to him was little more than her ability to produce a child—lit a cauldron of rage within me.

I clenched my fists, feeling myself at the edge of transforming. I wanted to rip Duccio’s tongue from his mouth. Instead, I slapped at his face.

He caught my wrist before my palm could land and pulled me to him with hardly any effort. Had I not been so enraged, his speed and iron strength might have awed me. Instead, I stared at him with daggers.

Duccio attempted to kiss me, but I turned my head and thrashed for him to release me. Undeterred, he landed his lips upon me, and for a moment, I didn’t protest, feeling the burning fire behind them.

I can’t give in to this, I thought shortly. If I wait for another second, I might allow this to happen.

I swung my other hand to crack against the flesh of his cheek.

Taking advantage of the moment, I pulled from his grasp and turned to run from his office.

“Are you well?” Pompeia asked when I finally answered my door. “I’ve brought you some breakfast.”

Carrying a small tray of fruit and coffee, she entered my drawing-room when I stood aside from the door.

I had refused to join the others for breakfast. There was no way I could disguise my anger from them, so I separated myself, hoping to calm down in time. Seeing Pompeia now, I knew it was a pointless endeavor.

“Duccio said you were out late?”

The blonde seraphim stared at me with her liquid blue eyes, devoid of any notion of what I must tell her. I couldn’t help but place my arms around her with despair.

“No, no—what’s happened? Did you see something to upset you?”

It took me time to find the words, and I answered only with a deep sigh until they came.

“Duccio took me on a hunt,” I answered, pulling away to look at her. “He led us to a small village miles away from here, and there we discovered a horrible scene: the deeds of a child rapist.”

Pompeia closed her mouth firmly and exhaled as if she understood the cause of my despair. Silently, she pulled sit us on the sofa.

“We were too late to save his last victim,” I continued, “but we stopped him.”

Pompeia ran her hand consolingly through my hair where it had broken loose. From her mind, I felt just a soft embrace of love.

“It’s no wonder, then. But Duccio was pleased with you, surely?”

“He has decided that I’m to be promoted,” I answered.

“Really?” her eyes lightened. “But that’s a call for celebration, then. How marvelous!”

I realized I had a last opportunity to say nothing, to let Duccio reveal his plans later that day. But she would remember this moment and know I’d kept it from her. The damage already promised to be unrepairable.

“He means to make me alpha.”

Pompeia flinched slightly, uncertain of my meaning.

“Replace himself?” she asked. “What do you mean?”

“No. He insists I am to partner with him as alpha, to govern beside him over the pack.”

She released a small laugh that got caught in her throat.

“But you’re a child. How could he ever expect you to fulfill such a duty? He cannot possibly have meant that. Are you sure he said this?”

“He means to make me his bride,” I said, finally allowing the words to leave my lips. “He demands that I will replace you as his wife and give him lycan heirs.”

Pompeia’s face froze with disbelief.

“I told him I refuse, of course. But he said that I would fulfill his commands with or without accepting the title or his hand. He believes that I will bear him children with similar lycan gifts. Well, he didn’t come outright and say as much. But I knew what he meant.”

I could feel her disbelief turning.

“He said I must produce the next generation,” I added.

Pompeia sat back and stared at me with great distress. I couldn’t tell the truth of her reaction, whether I saw hurt or sadness or anger or resentment, or some overwhelming combination.

“I swear to you, sister, I didn’t invite this from him. I’ve never betrayed you. I’ve never allowed him to touch me—.”

With my last statement, Pompeia stood up from the sofa and moved away from me. She shot one last look of indecipherable emotion I could only sense with my eyes. Her mind had closed to me.

I didn’t rise to stop or follow her.

Pompeia had plainly seen what I meant to hide from both of us. She knew my last words were somehow untrue.