Page 4

CHAPTER 4

BARGAINING WITH THE BEAST

My mind races as Kazuul looms over me, his massive presence blocking any escape. The negotiations I carefully planned have crumbled to dust. I'm an unclaimed omega before the territory's most powerful alpha, and my body betrays me with every passing second.

I force my voice steady. "My omega status doesn't change the needs of my community. Haven Valley still requires food supplies to survive the winter."

A rumbling laugh-growl emerges from Kazuul's chest, vibrating through the air between us. His golden eyes fix on mine, vertical pupils dilating with predatory interest.

"And what do you offer now, little omega?" One claw traces a pattern in the air near my face. "Now that we both know what you truly are?"

I square my shoulders and meet his gaze despite every instinct screaming to lower my eyes.

"I offer myself," I state plainly. "Temporarily. In exchange for food deliveries to Haven Valley through winter."

The words hang in the air. Five years fighting my biology, building a life where my secondary gender doesn't define me—now I offer that very thing as a bargaining chip.

Five hundred lives against my temporary captivity. The math is simple, even if the reality won't be.

Kazuul laughs, the sound echoing like thunder. The stone floor vibrates beneath my feet. I catch his scent—hot metal and something spicy that makes my nostrils flare.

"You misunderstand your position." His massive hand grips my chin with cruel strength. His claws dig into my skin, not enough to break it, but a clear threat. His touch burns like a brand. "Under Conquest law, you're already mine to claim. The only negotiation is whether your people benefit from your surrender."

My stomach drops. Of course. The Conquest law: all human omegas belong to Prime alphas by right of conquest. I've been outmaneuvered before I began.

My body responds to this realization instantly. Heat blazes through my core. My skin flushes. My breathing quickens. Worst of all, slick gathers between my thighs, warm and mortifying.

I squeeze my thighs together, but that only intensifies the emptiness growing in my core.

Kazuul inhales deeply, nostrils flaring. His golden eyes brighten with predatory triumph, pupils narrowing to slits.

"Your body understands what your mind resists." His voice drops to a rumble that vibrates through my bones. One finger traces my throat where scent glands have activated. "It knows what it was made for."

I clench my jaw against a shudder and fail. His touch awakens responses I've denied for years.

"My people," I manage, grasping for the reason I came. "What happens to Haven Valley?"

A calculating look crosses his features. For the first time, I glimpse the intelligence that's made him a successful warlord beyond mere strength.

"An interesting question." He releases my chin but stays close, his scent enveloping me. "Most in your position would be begging for personal mercy by now."

The implication sends a chill through me. How many omegas has he claimed? How many are still here in this fortress?

He circles me. I stand rigid as a post while he paces, each footfall silent despite his enormous size. His eyes rake over me like he's already undressing me, assessing what's soon to be his property.

"Stop that," I snap when his scrutiny becomes unbearable.

He bares his teeth in what might be a smile but resembles a snarl. "You don't give orders here, omega."

He completes his circle, coming to stand before me again.

"I offer terms," he announces. "Regular food deliveries through winter and spring. Protection from raiding parties. Medical supplies when needed."

My heart leaps at the unexpected generosity—more than I'd dared hope for.

"In exchange?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"Your complete submission as my claimed omega." His gaze drops to my throat. "Not temporarily. Permanently."

The chamber spins. Permanent claiming. Permanent ownership. Everything I've fought against since the Conquest.

But my community will survive.

"I accept," I say, my voice steadier than I feel. "On one condition. I remain involved in Haven Valley's governance. I need to know my people are truly protected."

Kazuul's lips pull back, revealing teeth sharper than a human's. "You presume to make conditions?" He leans closer, his massive size making me feel like prey about to be devoured. "But your strategic mind might prove useful. This is acceptable, within limits I will define."

Relief floods me, followed by dread as I grasp what I've agreed to.

Then comes his final condition.

"The claiming must happen immediately," he declares. "Before witnesses."

My blood turns to ice. "Witnesses?"

"Oni officials have already gathered in the central courtyard." The satisfaction in his tone confirms he anticipated this outcome from the moment I entered his fortress. "Your status must be established beyond question. Publicly."

Horror washes over me. Not just claiming—public claiming. My body on display, my submission witnessed, my most intimate surrender made spectacle.

"That's not necessary," I protest. "I've agreed to your terms."

"It is precisely necessary." He grabs my hand, engulfing it completely in his massive grip. His claws prick my skin in warning. He pulls me toward the doors, which swing open at our approach. "Your people will know exactly why they eat this winter. And exactly what you've surrendered to feed them."

The corridor stretches before us. Each step feels like moving through quicksand.

My suppressed omega biology now rages fully awake. Fabric against my skin feels like sandpaper. The ache in my core grows with each step. Slick soaks through my undergarments, my body preparing despite my mind's rejection.

We pass oni guards who watch with predatory interest. Their nostrils flare as they scent my emerging heat. None approach what is clearly their warlord's claim, but several make crude gestures when they think I'm not looking.

A guard bows deeply as we pass. Another mutters something in the harsh oni language that makes Kazuul laugh—a cruel sound that sends ice through my veins.

"The terms of our agreement," I say, desperate to focus on something besides my body's betrayal. "Will they be formalized?"

"Your concern for detail even now is remarkable." His eyes narrow, assessing. "Yes, they will be recorded and witnessed, just as the claiming will be. Every. Detail. Of it."

The emphasis he places on those final words makes clear his intention—the claiming will be witnessed in explicit totality.

We round a corner and nearly collide with a servant carrying linens. She flattens herself against the wall, eyes downcast. I notice the thin collar around her neck—not an omega, but a beta servant marked as property. Fresh bruises mottle her arms; someone's been rough with her.

As we near the courtyard, voices reach my ears—dozens of them. The claiming won't be witnessed by a few officials, but a crowd.

I dig in my heels. "Wait." Fear finally overtakes calculation. "Please, not like this."

Kazuul stops, turning to face me. His massive frame blocks the corridor, cutting off retreat. His expression hardens.

"Your heat accelerates," he observes, voice lowered but no less threatening. He inhales deeply. "I can smell it growing stronger by the minute. Soon you'll beg for what you now dread. The claiming will happen regardless—this way, it serves purpose beyond mere biology."

Another wave of heat pulses through me, making my knees weak. The suppressants aren't just failing—they're breaking down completely. Years of chemical control dissolving in hours.

"I can't," I whisper, though I'm no longer sure what I'm refusing.

"You already have." He tugs me forward roughly, nearly pulling me off my feet.

We step through the archway into blinding sunlight. I blink rapidly as my vision adjusts.

The courtyard stretches before us, surrounded by rising tiers of stone seating. In the center sits a raised platform covered in furs, marked with swirling ritual symbols. Dozens of oni officials and warriors create a wall of crimson and black flesh. Some wear elaborate decorations marking their status; others display battle scars proudly.

Their collective alpha presence hits me like a physical blow, making me gasp. My omega biology responds instantly, a fresh wave of slick gathering between my thighs.

They all watch me—the human omega about to be claimed by their warlord. I am property to them, a possession being formally claimed.

The reality crushes me. Not just claiming—a claiming ceremony. By tomorrow, everyone will know what became of Haven Valley's leader.

My knees buckle. Kazuul's hand grips my arm, his claws digging in painfully, forcing me to stay upright.

"Remember why you came," he says, his voice cold and matter-of-fact. "Your sacrifice ensures your people's survival. That was the bargain."

The oni observers fall silent as we approach. Only the wind, distant birdsong, and my hammering heart break the silence.

Female attendants step forward, their faces impassive as they reach for my clothing. One carries a bowl of scented oil. Another holds ceremonial garments—or what little of them there are.

An older oni steps forward from the crowd, his horns elaborately decorated with metal rings that clank together as he moves. He speaks in their language, his voice carrying across the courtyard. The crowd responds with a chant that sounds like a ritual challenge or affirmation.

When Kazuul answers, his voice rings with power and possession. He speaks my name, and a ripple of reaction moves through the crowd—recognition, anticipation, hunger.

I've crossed a threshold from which there is no return.

Haven Valley will survive the winter. And I will pay the price with my body, my freedom, and perhaps eventually, my will.