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Xander reined in his horse and drew up next to Lodan. “The Sardi Omega is causing trouble.”

“She’s in a wagon.” When it still stormed this morning, he’d almost ordered a spot cleared for the Omega inside one of the covered caravans, but everyone else rode in the rain, so he’d put her in the open wagon, too. The image of the Omega sitting hunched over as gusts of rain pelted her, kept flitting through his mind. He didn’t care if she was wet and uncomfortable. “How many problems can she cause there?”

“The two Omegas you took under our aegis sit with her. The male, Cian, asked why we were taking prisoners.”

“So? Tell them her purpose.”

Xander made an angry chuff in his throat. “I ordered him not to talk to her, but she’s a Sardi—they’re devious—and I don’t like her with Cian.”

A sweep of droplets hit Lodan’s face and trickled down the back of his neck. “I’ll deal with it.”

He wheeled his mount around to find the Omega wagon. As he passed the large Sardi stallion, he swore it glared at him. Damn horse. It burned that he couldn’t get it to obey under saddle. His current horse was a good mount, but Sardi horses were faster. Maybe the Sardi only used that one for stud and had never broken him to saddle. They pursued bloodlines more than anything else, so it wouldn’t surprise him.

The Omega was barely visible in the back of the wagon. Across from her sat the male and female Omega who’d asked to join them. The female, the pretty Omega who’d issued him an invitation last night, pushed back the hood covering her face. She bowed her head, peering up at him under her lashes—inviting him with a display of submission.

This Omega would gladly partner with him.

The fire in his blood cooled.

He looked at the Sardi with her cloak drawn tightly around her head. “Omega, get up.” He gestured to his soldier driving the wagon to halt.

The Sardi turned slowly, her blue eyes wide.

He growled. “You’re riding with me.”

“I’m afraid of horses.”

He sighed. Of course she was. How useless.

If she feared horses, it meant someone else handled hers for her. Typical Sardi, letting others do the work. She probably had the temple priestesses wait on her while she hid out there.

The Omega was lying when she said she’d been at the temple for four years. The king would have hidden her when Lodan’s troops appeared at his borders because no Sardi would ever be a priestess otherwise. His lip curled into a sneer. Sardi blood was too precious to waste in chastity.

After dismounting, he plucked her from the back of the caravan and tossed her up in the saddle. In one motion, he slid behind her and urged his horse onward.

His goal was to make her receptive, and the more she was with him, the easier that would be. Back ramrod straight, she flinched forward anytime her back brushed against his chest. If she could sit on the horse’s neck, she would.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her flush to him, sliding his hand up to her neck. It and her face were the only parts of naked skin available. She shied and tried to wiggle away.

“Get used to my touch, Omega.” He deliberately trailed a finger along her throat. She shivered, and his groin tightened into a throbbing ache pinned between her and the saddle. A sheen of rain covered the pulse leaping in her neck, and her scent, not her Omega arousal like last night, but her sweet, orange blossom scent, was strong. He bent his head and inhaled deeper.

She was so small and delicate—a typical Sardi, only existing to look pretty. Completely useless. Certainly not a warrior. Even his horse scared her. If they were back in his old village, she’d lie helpless in the fields, complaining about her dirty hands after an hour of labor.

He stiffened. This was the second time he’d let thoughts of the past creep forward.

Anger clawed at him, and he fought it back.

All thoughts of his family and village were locked away in a deep void. Only when he fought did he release the icy control and let all the burning fury come rushing from that dark place.

As he stared down at the Omega’s head, he pictured her growing up spoiled and coddled, riding about in coaches. Never thinking the world was anything but perfectly attuned to her every desire.

On impulse, he picked up one of her hands. It wasn’t soft. Sure, it was softer than his, but not what he expected. “What gives a princess callouses?”

“I did all the washing up at the temple. And the gardening.” She turned her head away, her voice sullen as she tried to jerk her hand out of his.

He growled and tightened his grip around her wrist. “Leave it.”

A brief battle ensued while she tugged, making his lips twitch. This tiny one actually thought she could wriggle free? His hand was easily double the size of hers.

After a long, drawn-out hiss, she gave up.

The rain bunched and gathered in her upturned palm then slipped down her wrist. He placed the reins on his pommel, and, keeping her hand pinned in one of his, with his other, he ran a finger as if tracing the outline of her hand, then trailed it up her wrist. Slowly, he pushed his finger into the cleft formed by the V-shaped well between her fingers. Raising her hand to his mouth, he repeated the action with his tongue, licking the rain off the delicate web. He repeated the action with each finger cleft.

She’d gone completely still, not even drawing breath. “Stop … stop doing that.”

He bit where her thumb sloped upward, and she shuddered. “I give the orders, Omega.”

“Kassandra.”

He grunted and dropped her hand, and she tucked it back inside her cloak immediately, like a turtle into its shell. As his horse picked its way back to the head of the line, he tried to ignore how the Sardi’s ass rubbed against him with each rocking step, and tried to focus on the road lined with sparse, scrubby trees as they ascended from the beach into the wild of the peninsula.

“It must have been humiliating to have to farm like a Myrdinian at the temple,” he said.

“It was a small garden, and the longer I was outside, the less praying I had to do.”

“Doing something you don’t want to do is foreign to a Sardi.”

She flinched and shuffled forward, so he grabbed her hip and tugged her back into place with a sharp jerk. Even through layers of sopping clothes bunched between them, she still slotted into his body, into the cage of his arms, like she was meant to be there.

No. She was just an Omega.

This time, he was the one who shifted, pushing her forward to gain a small distance between them. “You were unhappy being devoted to the goddess? I’d better watch out, the goddess will use this storm to strike you down and hit me instead.” Not many spoke so flippantly of the gods, but like he’d told Xander, the gods abandoned him long ago, so what did he care about them?

“Your sins are worse than mine. I’m sure you’d be the intended target.” She wriggled to scoot farther away but couldn’t get anywhere. “Before you destroyed everything, the Sardi kept the peace in this land. Our rule helped balance the peninsula’s food, wealth, and trade.” She writhed again but ended up falling back against him. She struggled harder.

It didn’t have the effect she wanted. Each time she floundered against him, he grew harder. He flexed his arm and brought her closer. He pointed to some warriors riding to the right. “See those men? They’re Tyrrhuscans. When I freed their city, hundreds flocked to my banner. Two of their Omegas rode with you today. These people are not with me by force, Omega. They joined me because they believe in freedom and couldn’t wait to escape the Sardi yoke. If you think the Sardi helped them, then you’re a bigger fool than I thought.”

“The Tyrrhuscans rake salt and have crafting skills.” She struggled some more. A complete waste of effort because he wasn’t going to move his arm. “By directing their trade, the Sardi helped them achieve more wealth than they could have on their own.”

“And what if a Tyrrhuscan wanted to become an orator? Or a teacher?”

“They wouldn’t want that.” She tried to gain her freedom in a flurry of jerks, then stopped, panting slightly when she got nowhere. “Their blood leads them to the life they are intended for.”

Lodan sneered and flexed, restraining her further. “What kind of horse are we riding?”

“What kind of horse?” She sounded incredulous, like she thought he’d gone daft. “It’s a plow horse.”

“I’ve ridden this mount during every conquest. He’s agile and fast and charges fearlessly wherever I tell him to go. He isn’t pulling a plow. Should the lineage he was born into set his destiny?”

A long silence spread between them.

“Does he have a name?”

“No, he doesn’t need one, he’s just a horse.”

“A horse whose partnership saves your life during battle.”

Lodan frowned at his mount’s pale gray ears, flicking backward as if listening to them. “That’s Sardi nonsense. You believe your horses are superior.”

“No, we treat our horses as superior because the bond between horse and rider is sacred.”

He scoffed. “Not for you. You fear them.”

“I’m an unfit Omega. You should release me.”

“You fit in the only way that counts.” His voice deepened to a growl, and she stiffened. “Last night you clawed at me because you wanted us to fit so badly,” he whispered into her ear.

“That was only Alpha games.” The Omega was panting again, and her words came out breathy and quick.

He pulled her hood back and placed his lips over the raised purplish mark he’d left under her jaw. As he raked his teeth over it, she squeaked a small, tortured sound. His blood roared, demanding more.

One of the Alphas near them spun his head, his eyes filling with black and locking on her lips.

Lodan stared challengingly at his soldier. The warrior quickly looked away and reined his horse in to disappear behind them into the procession.

He brought his hand to the Omega’s throat, and his thumb brushed the raised mark. “You’re soaked, the icy rain is creeping down your spine, yet you still respond.” He swiped this thumb again. “All I did was touch you.”

She shook her head in denial, but he inhaled her desire floating around him. She could lie to herself all she wanted, but her body spoke the truth. The Omega desired him. Eventually, she’d let him take her fully.