“Stop?” he snarled. Who did this omega think he was, daring to tell him to stop. What a worthless piece of garbage.
In a blur of motion, he grabbed the omega’s hair, yanking his head back sharply. “You dare order your Emperor to stop?” he growled, thrusting in with more force, enjoying the way the omega squealed, bursting into a new wave of fresh tears.
He then tilted his head back slightly and inhaled through his mouth.
Thick, black smoke began to rise from the omega’s body like steam off fresh blood, curling up from his pale skin, slipping from the corners of his teary eyes, his parted lips, and his runny nose. The smoke twisted into the air, carrying a scent of iron, of wilted flowers soaked in tears, and desperation rotting slowly in the dark. The emotions swirled and thickened as they floated toward the Emperor’s face.
The smoke streamed into the Emperor’s open mouth like ribbons pulled by a hungry wind, coiling around his tongue and disappearing down his throat. His eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, savoring the sweet taste. He was happy to taste his favourite, hopelessness, which he rarely got from his victims. It melted on the tongue like honeyed ash, smoky and soft, the flavor of surrender. Most of them usually held on to hope until the end.
It was a good thing this one didn’t.
If one looked closely at the Emperor in the dim room, they would see that it wasn’t really the Emperor. His eyes were fully black, his face twisted with a kind of madness and sadistic pleasure.
The omega’s lips parted, but no words came — only sobs. His body convulsed with every movement, his last reserves of strength long since drained. All he could do now was cry. The Emperor would not stop and no one was coming to save him.
Having had his fill and knowing that the omega had nothing else to give, the Emperor shoved the omega’s face into the mattress, one hand pressing down hard.
He continued moving, even more feral now. Flesh slammed against flesh. The bed creaked and groaned as the omega trashed, gasping for air, but it was no use.
A shudder tore through the Emperor’s body as he climaxed, panting harshly. Slowly, he pulled out and the omega’s body, once trembling, now slumped on the bed and laid completely still—his face half-buried in the silken sheets, lips slightly parted, eyes wide open and glassy.
The Emperor rose from the bed and exhaled slowly, his sweat-slicked skin glistening under the low light. He looked down at the corpse and clicked his tongue with mild annoyance.
“You killed another one,” he muttered, reaching for his robe as his eyes cleared, returning to normal. “Must you do this every time? This is why I have to keep buying people. I’ve told you time and time again not to kill those that belong in the harem. Their absence will be noticed. Now I have to cover this up.”
“The emotions from the ones you buy don’t taste good.” the voice slithered through his skull, coiling around his mind like a serpent. “They’re already used to pain and suffering. Most of them have given up hope. It’s not a matter of how much I eat but how well. I need fresh sweet prey. Those that do not know what it means to suffer. Only those who do not know pain taste delicious.”
The Emperor sighed. He was getting tired of this. The more he allowed the voice to control his body, the more he felt like he was losing control of it. “How many more must you feed on before you regain your strength?” he asked quietly, tying the sash of his robe.
“More,” the voice answered, amused. “Omegas are tasty little morsels, but hardly a meal. My soul was damaged beyond recognition and sealed in that cave for centuries. You’ve fed me well over the years, Mingxiu but I need more to recover completely. Don’t you want to conquer the world? Don’t you want me out of your body? Give me chaos, and I’ll show you power beyond your wildest dreams.”
The Emperor crossed to a lacquered table and poured himself tea with trembling fingers. He took a long sip, letting the warm liquid soothe his parched throat.
“I’ll figure something out...” he muttered.
Although he wanted the voice to heal fast and leave his body, his thoughts were on someone else.
It had been days but he had heard nothing of him and that Alpha of his and it pissed him off. He wondered where they could have gone and what they were doing. Did the Alpha sleep with Hua Ren already? Has he marked him? Where on earth were they?
A knock broke through the air, scattering his thoughts.
“Your Majesty,” a voice called from beyond the doors. “The Night Dragon Troupe has arrived. They request an audience.”
The Emperor’s head snapped up at once. He had sent his most elite guards after them and they had just returned. With good news he hoped.
He straightened his robe, smoothing his expression. “Tell them to wait in the throne room,” he said firmly. “I’m on my way.”
The towering doors of the throne room groaned as they opened, their metal edges grinding against the polished marble floor. Warm torchlight flickered against red-and-gold columns, casting long shadows that trembled as the Emperor strode in.
His steps were fast. Too fast, showing how eager he was for the news.
He looked like he had dressed quickly too. His robes, though elegant, were hastily tied, and his hair, though smoothed back, still clung damp to his temple.
The courtiers lining the hall, ministers and guards alike, bowed low as he passed. The Night Dragon Troupe stood at the center of the chamber, kneeling in formation. Their leader was a tall woman draped in dark purple and crimson, her face partially hidden by a plain half-mask.
No one dared raise their head until he took the throne.
The Emperor’s body sank into the grand seat at the top of the dais. He leaned slightly forward, fingers gripping the arms of the throne as his voice rang out, smooth but sharp: “Rise.”
“Long live Your Majesty.” They all chorused as they stood.
“You bring news,” the Emperor said, going straight to the point. He had waited too long for this. “Speak.”
The woman bowed her head low. “Yes, Your Majesty. We have tracked the fugitives and confirmed that the general and his companion are heading west. While we have yet to pinpoint their exact location, our sources indicate they may be hiding in one of three places: the Abandoned Borderlands, Frost Forest Village, or Water River Town.”
She paused briefly, then continued with measured urgency.
“We humbly request that Your Majesty dispatch additional forces, so we may search all three locations simultaneously and ensure their capture.”