Three Alpha Princes for an Unwanted Omega

Willow paused outside the study door, took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

Lucius sat behind his desk, his head bent over a stack of papers. He did not look up as she entered.

"Did you lose your way, Willow?" He asked.

"How did you know it was me?" Willow asked.

He raised his head.

"Your scent is one of a kind. Surely, you have heard that before."

Willow felt her heart thump in her chest.

"I was just wondering where you kept yourself." She answered, drawing closer. "But I see now how hard you work."

"Someone has to."

"You should also rest, sometimes, don’t you think?"

His gray eyes moved over her. He set down his quill and leaned back in his chair, studying her.

"Can I help you, Willow?"

"It is I who can help you."

"Is that so?"

"I am full of hidden talents, my lord." She reached up and pulled the pin from her hair, letting the strands tumble loose around her shoulders. "You have only ever seen the surface."

Lucius watched her for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

Willow’s heart slammed against her ribs as she stepped around his desk.

She placed her palm on his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath the shirt. Her fingers trailed lower, over his stomach, until they brushed the front of his trousers. He was already hard. She pressed her palm against the thick length and rubbed once.

Lucius caught her wrist. He stood, towering over her.

"You should be careful what you offer" he murmured. "I might be tempted to take it."

"Who says I do not want you to?" Willow whispered.

Lucius lips curved into a smile.

"Turn around," he said.

She obeyed, giving him her back.

His hand slid up the column of her throat, his fingers wrapping around it as his thumb stroked her jaw then he shoved her forward. Willow’s chest hit the desk with a thud. The edge of the wood dug into her hips as Lucius yanked her skirt up in one rough motion, bunching it at her waist. He hooked two fingers into the thin fabric between her legs and tore it aside.

He freed his cock and with one hard thrust, buried himself to the hilt. Willow gasped, fingers scrabbling at the desk as he pulled back and drove in again, the force of it rocking the heavy table.

He kept one hand on the back of her neck, pinning her down, while the other steadied her hips as he slammed into her again and again.

Willow’s breath came in short, broken sounds, her legs could barely hold her up.

Lucius fucked her like he meant to break her.

His hand left her neck only to fist in her hair, yanking her head back as he pounded harder. The slap of flesh grew louder, wetter. Willow’s cunt clenched around him, slick dripping down her thighs.

She could feel him swell inside her as a groan tore from his lips only to pull out at the last moment.

Thick ropes of cum spilled onto the floor between her feet, splattering against the floorboards.

Finally, he released her.

Willow stayed bent over the desk, stunned, her whole body trembling. She pushed herself up slowly, turned to face him, her smile wobbling on her face as she watched him tuck himself back into his trousers with the calm of a man buttoning his shirt.

"So" she cleared her throat. "What has you up so late?"

"Pack stuff."

"Pack stuff?" Willow stepped toward him, her hand finding his chest, tracing a slow line down the center of his tunic. "What kind of pack stuff? Come on, my lord. Regale me with your mightiness."

He caught her hand mid-trail, lifting it away from his chest, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

"Not now," he said. "Some other time, okay?"

"Of course." Willow muttered.

"Goodnight, Willow."

She had been dismissed. Just like that.

He was not even looking at her any longer.

"Goodnight, my lord." Willow responded, walking out of the study on unsteady legs, the taste of defeat sour in her mouth.

...

The next morning, Soren received the summons. He walked into the rogue king’s study with measured steps. Lucius sat behind the desk, larger than life. He did not rise.

He looked up as Soren entered and gestured to the chair across from him.

"Soren. Sit."

Soren sat.

Lucius studied him for a long moment, his fingers steepled before him.

"I did not think you so low," he said at last, "that you would send your daughter to do your dirty work."

Soren’s jaw tightened. "I do not know what you mean."

"You do." Lucius’s voice was mild. "Willow came to my study last night. She was... very persuasive." He let the words hang in the air between them. "If you wanted to know something, Soren, all you had to do was ask."

Soren did not deny it.

"I did try to ask," he said. "Somehow you are never available to see me."

"Pack stuff."

"Yes, so I have been told by your Beta... multiple times. One would think he were compelled to only say one sentence."

Lucius did not crack a smile at the jibe.

"What did you want to ask?" he said instead.

Soren leaned forward in his chair, his hands resting on his knees.

"What do you plan to do with Ayla?"

"One would think you were concerned for her," he said, "considering she spent the better part of her years being your daughter."

"That does not answer my question."

"No," Lucius agreed. "It does not. I told you before, Soren. I plan to use her."

"Use her how?"

Lucius smiled then. "You will have to see for yourself, Soren. Come to the ceremony hall this noon. An announcement is going to be made that answers your questions. Then I hope it assuages your mind. We are on the same side. I will prove it to you."

Soren held his gaze for a long moment, then gave a single nod

"I will be there."

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