His Omega Queen: A Prequel Novella: Alpha Barbarians

By M. L. Marian

SANETTA: THE SCHOLAR

Books have taught me all about the past.

About the final world war and what was before.

The one thing they never mentioned is how to evade the claim of a ruthless alpha male.

This morning, I was just an omega scholar.

But after tonight?

I'll be a queen.

 

DAMIRAN: THE SAVAGE

Revenge grows sweeter the longer it simmers.

And now Tyria will run red with my father's blood as I take his throne.

There's only one thing I need—a queen.

And that pretty little omega with the red braid?

The one who tries to hide from me?

She's mine.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page After Page Publishing LLC
• Release date: Sep 2, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223704522

M. L. Marian

M. L. Marian has no clue what to put here. She sees other authors with really cool bios, but there's nothing cool about M. L. Marian. She's just an antisocial hermit who comes out of hiding long enough to put a book into the world and then scurries back into seclusion. She would like to remind you, however, that kindness doesn't cost a thing (except for when it does) and loose lips sink ships. Whatever that means. Subscribe to her newsletter at https://mlmarian.com/newsletter/ for all the latest updates!

Book preview

INTRODUCTION

***This novella edition of His Omega Queen was formerly published in the Tying the Knot: A Limited Wedding Omegaverse Romance Anthology.

His Omega Queen is an M/F omegaverse set in a barbaric and dystopian world that contains blood, gore, and forced matings.

Sanetta and Damiran's story will be expanded into a full-length book. While this novella is only in Sanetta's point of view, the full book will feature Damiran's point of view as well.

CHAPTER 1

There’s something soothing about being surrounded by endless books in a library. Maybe it’s the comforting musty smell that seeps from the covers, or the dark splotches of dried ink that stain the pages. Perhaps it’s even the soft glow of the golden candelabras affixed between stained glass windows that could rival any cathedral’s.

This library used to be a cathedral six centuries ago. Back before The Novissimus—the most vicious and final world war that brought an end to humanity and civilization. Back when the average human lifespan was only eighty years instead of two hundred and humans didn’t have dynamics like alpha, beta, and omega.

Now all the houses of worship have been converted into libraries, and this one specifically has become a safe haven of sorts. One free from the testosterone of alpha males. With the exception of the beta guards stationed inside to ensure the safety of our precious historical books, we females are relatively unbothered by the male species here. It seems men as a whole aren’t very given to knowledge.

But in this particular moment, chaos fractures the peace. The musty smell is overridden by the stench of unfamiliar growling alphas, and the splotches on the pages of the open books are too red to be ink. Silvery axe blades cut through the air, slicing through limbs just as easily as they do the midday sunbeams and adding to the river of beta warrior blood that stains the wooden floor.

And here we are, my sister and I.

Two omegas, student and scholar, trapped between a table and towering bookshelves as the fight rages on.

Sanetta, Fiona whimpers over the snarling roars, slim fingers crushing her plain green dress. What are we going to do?

I swallow down my nervousness and push my glasses up my nose. This way. Keep your back to the shelves.

Easing up, I lift the hem of my simple white dress and sidestep one of the reasons we can’t crawl under the tables—a coagulating puddle of red. These males are unlike any of Prime Zavyr’s. Black leather pants are all these warriors have in common with our own, and but for their spiked shoulder armor and arm braces, they fight bare chested. Burnished gold and black strokes cover their faces and thick arms in intricate designs, designs that signify their intent of war. Despite their barbaric appearance, they move fluidly and gracefully, battle axes steady and true.

Where did they even come from? And what could our Prime have done to anger another city to the point where they forego negotiations and run headlong into battle? Besides food and medical supplies, heat suppressants are the only things people fight over anymore.

Unless...

My stomach twists as I realize there could be truth to the accusations of Tyria hoarding the precious commodity.

Sanetta, Fiona whispers anxiously. What about Mama?

Right.

Fiona and I need to get lost in the tall stacks and sneak to the back exit and to the small home we share with our ill mother. But my feet stall as the foolishness of that thought hits. These strangers have definitely breached the city’s fortifications, and if they’ve made it into the library, who knows where else they are? We should stay here and hide because one thing is certain—these alphas are to be avoided at all costs. If they overpower all of our warriors, they'll turn to the omega females first and then the betas, ravishment and rut their final goal as they collect their war prizes.

The only thing any alpha male wants after a brutal fight is a brutal rut that ends with a rough knotting that locks the omega onto his cock, leaving her helpless underneath him until it softens. Not exactly how I want my first time—or any time—to go.

Good thing my heat suppressant—fuck! I forgot to take it this morning. Maybe the remnants in my system will be sufficient until I can get more.

Three steps.

Four.

Five, with at least one hundred more before the semblance of safety is even remotely possible. Damn the both of us for studying so close to the entrance.

Keep moving! I hiss when Fiona freezes. Quickly, quietly, and eyes down. The last thing we need is for one of them to notice us. My gaze is locked on the heavy boots of the dueling males, but I can still see her well enough as she tucks her fear behind her and lowers her head. An alpha's battle growl is different from his mating growl, but without my suppressant, either of them can induce a heat if eye contact is made. And since a heat can turn an unwilling omega into an eager slut, it's better to be safe than sorry.

The shelf scrapes my back and snags curly strands from my long red braid as we move forward, but I ignore the pain, focusing instead on the two masculine bodies that are now too close for comfort. Can’t go this way, I murmur, knowing Fiona probably can’t hear me over the noise. Damn it. We’ll have to turn—something round flies mere inches in front of me, splashing my face with liquid heat before it hits a shelf and bounces.

Was that a head? Red dots blurring my vision, I squint at the grotesque thing at my feet. I’m able to swallow my squeal of surprise, but not my reflexive kick.

No, Fiona wails into my back