Chapter Three

Sauron's rage had calmed down enough to be reined in, allowing him to think and plan. He had ordered trackers to pick up the kidnappers trails, learning that it led towards the main river that fed into the lake where the villa and town floated upon. He was livid and holding in his murderous rage for the ones responsible for the disappearance of his mate. The only clue he had that had been left behind by Ayla was the pearl hairpin she had been wearing. They took her because they knew that Ayla was his omega mate, and he was running against time. Her heat cycle would be starting soon and any alpha near her are a threat.

He must find her lest his plans for creating his ultimate weapon will be for nothing.

Following the main river's path on his wyvern, Sauron came upon the hidden tribe of the avari, living carefree in the trees. His inner alpha growled and clawed at its cage, knowing instinctively that his mate was there. He will set fire to these retched people.

They dared to take what is his.

They dared to take his mate.

They deserve to die.

xxxxx

The rage Sauron felt at the sight of his mate, lying in the bed, feverish, covered in raw bites and reeking of another alpha. His beautiful mate was dying. He wanted to murder all of them again for what they have done to his omega. With great care he reached down and scooped Ayla up into his arms, letting her head rest as close to his neck as possible so that she could take in his scent. His instincts told him that she was still his, that his mark on her remained, but she was very sick. He sensed his mate was in great distress but she will have to hold out a bit longer until they returned to his camp where he can then begin reaffirm their bond.

His men had been quick to set the avari village aflame and kill any survivors as he carried Ayla back to his wyvern, mounting the beast and then taking flight. He did not deign to look back, the savages known as the avari deserved no mercy. Once back at the camp, he took Ayla into his tent, laying her out on his bed before he quickly removed his armor and laid down beside her, pulling her face up close to his scent gland in his neck for her to breathe in. He gently rolled her head to the right, exposing the scar of his mark. Lowering his head, he sank his teeth into the mark, breaking the skin and tasting her blood on his tongue. Ayla whined and weakly squirmed in his arms, Sauron only tightened his arms around her to keep her still before finally removing his teeth from the mark.

He couldn't let her die, she was too important to him and his plan.

He stayed with her, holding her in his arms all night and staying alert for any further distress. He attempted to feed her and give her sips of water during the night when she would awaken for short periods. Her fever had lessoned after he bit the mark on her neck but she was still ill and it was going to be a long road to recovery.

In the morning he cleaned her as best as he could and changed her nightgown into one of her own, knowing that to be surrounded by her familiar scent and comforts would help her recovery. Sauron looked at the bite marks that scarred up her hands and arms, giving him a clue that Ayla had fought to protect her neck at the very least, making the alpha proud despite the anger he felt towards the one who attempted mark her. One or two of the bites must have been so forceful that it broke one of Ayla's fingers.

"This will hurt, pet. Bear with it as I must reset it and wrap it." Sauron said softly, taking Ayla's right hand and yanking hard on her middle finger, hearing and feeling it pop back into place while Ayla whimpered at the pain. Sauron placed a splint against her finger and wrapped it tightly. "You've done well. You've done very well. You protected your mark, I'm very pleased." he crooned, stroking Ayla's hair.

The journey back to the villa was short and their stay had extended until Ayla was well enough to travel again. Ayla's recovery was slow and she refused to be left alone with anyone but her mate. Sauron took it upon himself to nurse her, treating her wounds and erasing the scent of the alpha who had raped her. It was a trauma that will take time to get over, he knew, and thankfully, Ayla did not conceive during her heat with the other alpha. After a few weeks, Ayla was well enough for travel and Sauron wasted no more time in returning to Mordor.

xxxxx

The nightmares were becoming scarcer and Ayla was able to sleep without any sedatives or a simple sleeping spell from her mate. As soon as her body was well enough Ayla made love to her mate every night, her instincts telling her to rid itself of the memories of the horrors she had endured. She wanted her body to only know the touch of her mate.

"I love you." she said right before she came from riding her mate's cock. She felt his hot semen spurting inside her, her inner muscles pulsing and milking every last drop he had. She looked down at him, her hands braced on his chest and seeing his dark eyes looking up at her with heat and lust. "I love you, Mairon." she said again before bending down and kissing his lips sweetly.

"My pet, you speak such beautiful words to me like an enchanting song." Sauron said against her lips. He had her raise her head so that he could look up into her eyes. "But I much prefer your singing in the middle of passion, the way you dance above me as you pleasure yourself. Your siren call always luring me into your trap."

Ayla smiled at him, "My siren call?"

Sauron grinned up at her before rolling them over until he was on top, his cock semi-hard and still inside her wet warmth. He captured her mouth with his, sliding his tongue into her mouth and felt her tongue slide against his. His cock hardened and engorged inside Ayla, a pleased whimper escaping her. Sauron let out a low growl from deep within his chest.

xxxxx

For two and a half years, Ayla had lived in the east with her mate, having long since accepted that Gondor was no longer her home. She had survived her kidnapping and rape, and she recovered and was able to move on from that trauma. The scars on her arms and hands had completely healed, though the effects of the trauma she had suffered had temporarily stopped her heat for nearly a whole year. She had feared that it would never come back and along with her missing heats her visions and premonitions had also stopped. Yet, when her heat finally returned, so did her gift; but it had changed somehow. Not only were her visions clearer but she had also began to hear voices.

It had been quiet at first, barely a whisper and steadily grew louder and when she would listen she could never make out what it was saying. It was frustrating because the strange voices would disturb her at the most inconvenient of times. The only time they truly ceased was when she was in the throes of passion, distracted by white hot pleasure with her mate. She still hesitated at times to share her premonitions and visions with Sauron, keeping a few secrets to herself. Though, for the most part, she was content.

Content and finally expecting.

xxxxx

Ayla watched in horror as Sauron harnessed the souls of his victims, forging them inside the volcanic cavern of Mt. Doom. The sounds of their cries as their souls are ripped from their physical bodies were too much for Ayla's ears as she pressed her palms over her ears, though that did nothing to stop the piercing screams ripping through her head. She looked up at Sauron through the pain, seeing him turning towards her, his beautiful face now twisted and ugly with blackness spilling from his eyes and mouth. He reached out towards her with a gnarled, clawed hand, reaching for her heart. She let out a scream and fought against the hands that grabbed her.

Ayla, wake up.

Wake up.

Her eyes opened and she lay still, breathing heavily and feeling her heart hammering away inside her chest. She still felt hands gripping her as she focused her eyes up at her mate who was looking down at her with concern.

"You were having a bad dream." he said, stroking the side of her face. He had seen the fear in her eyes and could only guess that it was another premonition, perhaps a glimpse of his plans. If that was it then there was no reason for him to pretend and he was confident that he can persuade her to see things his way. "Tell me, it will ease your mind to share."

She looked up at him, afraid to voice her dream. She didn't want it to be real. Afraid that he will rip away her soul for his plot against the western border. She hugged her round belly, feeling the baby moving do to her distress.

"Speak, my pet." he soothed, still stroking the side of her face.

She reached up and took his hand, pulling it down to rest over her heart. He could feel her heart still beating rapidly in her chest. "Would you tear my soul out if it meant victory against your enemies?" she asked.

He looked into her turquoise eyes, as hers searched for the answer. A slight frown marred his beautiful face as he realized that she had seen what he was doing in her dreams, creating his ring of power from the souls of those who had been sacrificed to him. Taking her soul to forge the ring had been his plan in the beginning, but that changed quickly when he bonded with her and realized that her soul would be useless. No—what he needed was something much purer than his mate. But it did not mean that she would still not have a purpose to its creation as he slid his hand down to rest on the growing roundness of her belly.

The final piece.

Blood of his blood.

"My pet, you have nothing to fear. I would never harm you." he said, lowering himself down to kiss her lips tenderly and then moved down further to kiss the swell of her belly. "It saddens me to know that your premonitions evoke such fearful images of me."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, touching the side of his face with her hand. "I can't control what I see and these visions frighten me. I am lost in translation of what they mean." A lie, her visions were very clear and she had no trouble understanding what she saw.

"You will not come to harm, I promise you." he rose back up her body and kissed her brow and settled back in bed beside her, pulling her close against him. "You must rest now, for our child."

Ayla didn't argue, snuggling close into his chest. His scent calmed her down, if only a little as she settled herself to go back to sleep but found the simple task out of her reach. Her premonition nagged at the back of her mind, telling her not to trust Sauron's words. Two and a half years and still the rational part of her mind kept telling her not to fully trust him even though they are mated, even though she loved him, even though they had a child on the way. None of that mattered to her rational sense, never letting her ignore the warning signs telling her to flee before she gave birth. She desperately wanted it all to be a mistake, that it was just her darkest fear surging forward because she was pregnant.

She prayed that her premonition was wrong. She prayed it was just her deep seeded fear coming up because of the pregnancy. She prayed that her love was enough to keep Sauron from harming her and their child. She wanted to trust that her mate loved her.

Even if he never actually said the words "I love you."

Unfortunately her dreams escalated, becoming more aggressive with the details and even sometimes bleeding into her day. An accidental touch of hands and the scent of her mate will trigger a vision of violence and filling her ears with their piercing screams. It was wearing her down as the weeks went by. The only time she seemed to experience any reprieve was in the greenhouse when she was alone. She often slept there, dreamless, and would wake up to find that she had slept the day away.

As her stomach grew so did her worries and fears. She had thought numerous times of running away, somewhere far away where she wouldn't be found. Some place where she can raise her child, some place safe. But she knew so little of the world. She couldn't flee further east, as Sauron had many allies who would capture her and she feared being captured by his enemies again. She couldn't return to Gondor, pregnant with their enemy's offspring. Would Rohan give her asylum? Would the elves or the dwarves? She wept many times, trying her best to hide her growing depression and fear.

She felt trapped.

She had nowhere to go.

She had no friends of her own to rely on.

She truly was alone.

She was scared.

xxxxx

She was weak from the labor but rallied the strength to hold her son in her arms, wrapped up in a blanket she had made for him. He wasn't monstrous or deformed as she had feared he would be. He was beautiful and perfect and pure. When she kissed his head she immediately had a vision of her mate taking their son away from her.

Her son was in danger.

She remembered her horrifying dreams of Sauron harvesting souls in his forge and with a shudder felt the fear return. She had to protect her baby, no matter what. But right now, she was so tired; her strength was quickly waning the longer she held her son.

The door to the room opened and Ayla looked up to see Sauron entering, mirroring her vision she had just experienced and fear gripped her heart.

"You have a son, my lord." she said, watching as her mate drew closer until he was at her side and bending over her to have a better look at the infant. She saw a smile form on his pale pink lips as he turned his dark gaze onto her. Something about the way his eyes seemed colder somehow did not settle with Ayla. Sauron leaned over and pressed his lips to her forehead.

"You have done well, my pet. Now you must rest." he said, placing a hand on her head. Ayla felt a heaviness come over her, her eyelids suddenly too heavy to keep open as she quickly succumbed and slumped back against the pillows. Her arms going slack around her son as Sauron scooped up the bundle into his own arms and carried him away.

Ayla heard the cries of her son and her omega instincts kicked in as she awoke from the sleeping spell that Sauron had placed on her. She was still groggy and weak but the sound of her son crying for her compelled her to get out of bed. Her legs shook under her weight and her body still ached painfully from giving birth but she was determined as she made her way towards the door. She knew her son was far away but the link she had with her son, her mysterious powers allowed her to hear him calling for her. The sound pulled at her heart, knowing instinctively that her baby needed her.

She didn't question the direction she was going as the cries led her out of the fortress castle, following it on the rocky path towards the volcano.

xxxxx

Sauron gazed down at the red face of his wailing son, lying atop his anvil beside his unfinished project that will finally be completed. He was so close now; his ring of power will now be completed with the final piece of sacrifice. Holding out a hand above his son he began to ritual, chanting the spell and seeing the essence of his son's clean, uncorrupted soul begin to lift out of his tiny body. Little by little, he watched as the soul lifted, bright and shining, swirling in a cloud of gold and white dust while the physical body disintegrated into nothing.

"What have you done?!" came the horrified scream of his mate. Sauron looked up from the beautiful swirling cluster to the horror-stricken look on Ayla's pale face. Without stopping he guided the soul into the mold of his ring, watching as it fused with the molten metal. Ayla had stumbled forward, grabbing at the empty blanket and clutching it tightly to her chest as she sank to her knees in sorrowful tears. "My son—my son! What have you done to him? Bring him back…please…he needs me…"

Suaron ignored her as he lifted the hammer and swung it down on the mold, breaking it away to reveal the glowing ring, now fully completed as it pulsed with power. He picked it up, the scalding heat of it not affecting his bare hand as he slipped the ring onto his right index finger and felt the power surge them him, making him stronger and more powerful than before. He could feel the ring already calling to the other rings of power that he had created, sending out its siren song to them, alerting their bearers that he was coming for them.

He turned his dark gaze down upon the pitiful image of his mate, sobbing into the blanket that had been wrapped around their son. He knelt down on one knee to her, reaching down and hooking his fingers under her chin to raise her head up, showing him her tears of sorrow. Her omega instincts had overpowered his sleeping spell, bringing her here to witness the completion of the One Ring.

"Once I have destroyed the men and elves of the west I will give you as many children as you desire, my pet." he said, seeing her pain and tears not at all persuaded by his promise. Instead he was met with emptiness in her eyes. He moved his hands to beneath her arms and lifted her up to her feet as he stood and pulled her close, embracing her small body. "Our son has served his purpose by being the final piece in our victory. He will help us win the war, and with your powers of foresight it is an assured victory."

Ayla felt a coldness settle inside her chest, his words the cause of the coldness spreading. She hated him. Her love and her hope now completely gone from her heart because of this monster.

He was beyond redemption in her heart.

"You're a monster." she let slip passed her lips that was barely a whisper, but she knew he heard it as she took a step away from him. Her turquoise eyes lifting up to him, looking at him the same way she had when they first met. Fear.

Sauron felt nothing. He could have easily sung a spell to make her forget that she ever had a child, make her believe that he was still the man she loved, but he chose not to. He was confident in his powers of manipulation. His words will twist this horror into a memory of triumph in her mind. For now, he will let her hate him.

xxxxx

As the month passed, Ayla's body healed but her heart did not. She spent her days keeping her distance until evening, sitting with him at dinner and then sleeping beside him at night. She hardly spoke, only replying when asked a direct question. She knew that Sauron was acting as if all was well, as if killing their son for power had been completely normal. His touch made her skin crawl and his scent made her physically ill. No longer did she find comfort in his presence, her view of him now drastically changed. He was once more the monster she had grown up to fear.

Her eyes were now fully open.

While asleep, Ayla had awoken from a voice calling to her. She had thought it was Sauron, waking her but when she checked he was sound asleep. Slipping out unnoticed from Sauron's arms as she slipped on her nightgown and as quietly as possible she left the room. Her bare feet padded down the dark halls, hearing the soft whisper calling to her, guiding her down the steps to the lower levels, passing by the throne room towards the double doors leading out to the courtyard. She heard the voice whispering in her mind to keep going, guiding her steps down the stairs. When she stepped down on the final step a soft blue light from above shined down on her and she looked up, seeing a white light. Soft, white flakes of snow then began to gentle fall down to her.

Her eyes opened, finding herself still lying within the arms of the man she now hated. It had been just a dream—no—it had been a message! Like her dream counterpart, Ayla carefully removed herself from beneath Sauron's arm and got out of bed, slipping on her nightgown and moving across the room to the door. It creaked slightly when she pushed it open but it didn't stop her as she left the room and quickly retraced her steps down to the courtyard.

Her breath caught in her throat when she saw that there, waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs was a white mare. Her dream truly was a message from the Arda, they truly did bless her with foresight. The horse lowered itself, letting her climb onto its back before standing back up.

"Take me far from this place. As far and as fast as you can carry me." she said and the horse seemed to understand her as it nickered in response. She gripped its mane firmly in her fists.

"Ayla!" she heard her name being bellowed, making her look back to see Sauron at the top of the stairs. The ring on his finger glowing as she felt his rage reaching her.

She kicked her heels into the horse's sides and it sprang into a sprint, taking her away. She heard Sauron roar with rage as she made her harrowing escape, riding on the back the horse through the camp of his army who looked upon her in confusion. She knew that Sauron will send scouts to chase after her. She knew that his anger of her betrayal will result in her death, but she had to try. She had to have faith that the Arda had sent this mare to carry her to safety. That there was more for her than just the pain and misery that had been handed to her. She felt hope blooming in her heart, beginning to take root.

Time escaped her. She just knew that she had to keep the direction of Mordor at her back. Her horse had been killed by bandits barely three days after crossing the border into the west and Ayla would have been their next victim had she not, in her state of frenzy, killed one of the bandits with his own sword and stole his horse. She rode the horse as far as it could carry her before dying of exhaustion in the middle of nowhere, forcing her to carry on foot.

xxxxx

It had been raining heavily and Ayla's feet were in agony, cut, bruised and dirty from travelling barefoot. She was cold, tired and hungry, but she couldn't stop. She will die first before she will allow Sauron's scouts to take her back to Mordor. Through the heavy rain she could make out the dark density of a forest. She could allow herself to get lost in there and hopefully with the heavy rain it will wash away her smell. She pushed herself to keep going, to ignore the pain in her feet and the strain in her legs. If it meant losing the trackers it would be worth it.

Her freedom was worth it.

She wanted to be free.

She had to be free!

She was just a few yards away from the edge of a forest now, her legs slowing down to a stop, her lungs were on fire. Every cell of her body, every strand of hair on her head, every breath her lungs took in—it all hurt. But it was all worth it if she can stay free. She saw someone fitted in fine, gleaming, golden armor. He was too far for her to see any details through the rain, that, and she was exhausted, ready to give up and just collapse when she heard the gruff howls of the wargs tracking her scent. She had twisted around to look back, seeing them in the distance before turning around and sprinting forward towards the trees. She gave no heed to the warrior who was watching her, thinking him another guiding mark from the Arda, cluing her that she was heading towards safety.

She ran through the forest, her injured, battered feet stinging in pain as they received new cuts and reopened current injuries. She ran through the trees, surprised that she had not yet tripped over roots. When she saw a dead tree with a hollowed trunk she immediately took refuge, not caring that there were old webs and dead leaves inside it as she crawled inside and curled up in the back, keeping clear of being seen from the mouth. Now that she was still…now that she momentarily safe…she felt the last of her adrenaline seeping away as exhaustion took over. Never mind that she was cold, wet, and hungry. She just wanted to fall asleep and maybe never wake up again. If she slipped away into death then maybe she will be given mercy and be reunited with her son.

The thought of her son brought stinging tears to her eyes. Her beautiful baby whom she held once before he had been taken away from her and cruelly sacrificed to create the cursed ring of power that her mate forged. Her mate. She felt the weight of the mark on her neck. The bond that still tied her to that monster she had been foolish enough to fall in love with. He had broken so many promises. He said nothing would harm her, but he lied. He killed their son and broke her heart. She was suddenly alerted to the snapping of a twig and her breath halted. Her heart began to pick up speed again. She picked up the scent of mild spice among the wet earth smell until a pair of armored boots appeared outside the mouth of the hollow and then the body lowered as a face peered inside.

Ayla was frozen, his scent creeping into the small space. It was the scent of a pure alpha. Another prime, just her luck. Would he be another monster in disguise?

"It is safe now." he said, his voice soothing like hot tea and sweet honey. Melodious and gentle, mixed with the scent of spice and something sweet, almost floral. His offered gloved hand reached in for her to take. She naturally pulled away, wary and cautious. "I will not hurt you, you have my word."

She did not know why but she felt compelled to trust this man. She could not decide if it was because he was a prime alpha or because she was weak and tired to resist. In the end the reason did not matter as she crawled out from the hollowed tree and took the offered hand as it pulled her up onto her screaming, sore feet. Looking up at the man she was immediately struck by how beautiful he was. Fair skin, platinum blond hair, eyes as blue as the sky on the clearest of days. And she took note of his ears, pointed towards the sky…an elf…but he is not Abelas…he promised her that he will not hurt her.

She is so foolishly naïve.

And she is so very tired and drained.

She was thirsty and hungry.

Her body was…awakening from his scent.

Yet she had to remember to stay cautious as she looked up into his eyes.

"I won't hurt you, you have my word." he said, his beautiful voice low and soft. She looked down, his stare too intense for her to handle as she simply nodded her head. "What is your name?"

She raised her eyes back up at him, seeing that he earnestly wished to know her name and she wanted him to know. She parted her dry, cracked lips and tried to speak but her throat was too raw and parched as nothing but a strained rasp came out. She looked down, feeling the despair of not being able to utter her own name. How long has it been since she last spoke that wasn't a scream of terror or when she would cry her heart out over her broken soul. She flinched when she felt his light touch on her cheek and lifted her face up gently. In his eyes she saw understanding as he gave her the kindest of smiles.

"It is not important right. You are clearly injured and have not had a proper rest. I will take you to my Realm where you will be looked after." he said and then scooped her up into his arms. She was startled but she was too tired to fight back and his scent filled her nose, making her mind feel fuzzy. Her head dropped to his armor-clad shoulder and quickly succumbed to the abyss of sleep.

She was so tired of running.

xxxxx

The days that followed since Ayla arrived in the Woodland Realm had been confusing, comforting, and also frightening. She didn't know what to make of this turn of event. Was it the will of the Arda or sheer luck? Whatever it is that turned fortune into her favor she would not squander it, but she was worried. She dreamt of her mate, feeling his rage as it echoed in her conscience during her waking hours. Her dreams gave her a glimpse of what her mate has been up to and once more the vision of the white tree in the courtyard of Minas Tirith, being engulfed in flames. Yet this time, after seeing the burning tree she would then see her father's crown shattering into pieces on the flagstone floor of the throne room. She wanted so much to reach out to her family, tell them of the darkness that would befall their House, but she did not. Because some part of her was still bitter and angry with them for bargaining her away to their enemy like property.

She found solace in her savior's company, who introduced himself as Thranduil, Prince of the Woodland Realm. To be in Greenwood. She had traveled quite far, further than she thought she would be able to get on her own. Yet she was grateful. Perhaps the Arda was watching over her. The beta who looked after her was named Kwenthrith, and she was kind and patient as she was radiantly beautiful with long flaming red hair and warm honey brown eyes. The elven beta looked after Ayla's every need, always being gentle and willing to sit quietly with her when Ayla was feeling overwhelmed. Ayla liked the elf maiden, mostly because she was a beta and betas were safe. She was not in danger. Though she also felt safe with Thranduil and he was an alpha. A prime alpha at. She should be feeling wary or terrified, but she didn't, she felt completely at ease with him which was strange.

Kwenthrith returned with a servant who carried a tray of broth and fresh bread, looking to the bed to find Ayla curled up beneath the covers, asleep once more. The beta took pity on the weakened omega, knowing that Ayla was still too weak and ill. The poor thing still couldn't speak either. Prince Thranduil had brought Ayla parchment and ink to write so that they could communicate but whenever the conversation veered towards where she came from or why she was running from the warg riders the omega refused to answer and would shut down emotionally. Walking over to the bed to check in on her charge, Kwenthrith gently called out Ayla's name, rousing the young woman from her nap. The elf maiden could smell that the omega was still ill and quite possibly will never fully recover so long as she stayed away from her mate. Ayla opened her eyes slowly, rubbing the sleep from them as she slowly sat up. Kwenthrith did not assist or touch her as the omega always responded so poorly, trembling and freezing up and looking to be on the verge of tears. Whatever trauma Ayla had suffered, had clearly left her scarred.

"I have brought you something to eat." Kwenthrith said, waving for the servant to bring over the tray for Ayla. It was set down on the small table and the servant moved to leave the room as their duty had been complete. The beta woman saw Ayla's disinterest in the meal as her small shoulders sagged. It has been a struggle to get Ayla to eat anything; the only thing the omega was willing to have was water and then sleep most of the day. Her wounds were healing, but it was clear to Kwenthrith that Ayla was losing her will to live. Was it because she was away from her mate? Or something else? Kwenthrith was incredibly curious about the omega's background.

The elf had seen the way Ayla acted around the prince when he came to visit, how she acted shyly around him and put in the effort to stay awake and alert for him. Kwenthrith had even noticed how the prince took a rather special interest in Ayla, smiling more and looking at the omega with gentle eyes. He took care to make her feel easy, bringing her small gifts such as the ink and parchment so that they may communicate. How he was patient with her when it was well known that Prince Thranduil was a bit of a hothead had been a surprise to the beta, thinking she would never see the day when the hot blooded prince would finally slow down and show some patience.

Kwenthrith watched as Ayla swung her legs over the edge of the bed, revealing her feet that bared the red marks of where her injuries had been and were now mostly healed though it was clear to see that they were still painful to walk on. Ayla was slow to cross over to the small table, wincing as she walked on her tender feet. When she finally reached the table Ayla collapsed onto the chair and lifted her feet up from the floor to relieve the remaining pressure. Kwenthrith poured hot medicinal tea into a cup for Ayla as the omega picked up the bread roll and tore off a small piece to eat.

Kwenthrith watched Ayla eat for a few moments before turning to busy herself, calling for two servants to prepare the bath before going to the wardrobe to pick out a clean, comfortable dress. When she returned to check on Ayla she noticed that the omega was still nibbling away at the crust. She moved to sit on her knees beside the seated omega, being mindful not to touch the other woman as she looked up into the sullen face. The lack of nutrition had Ayla wasting away, her cheeks more sunken in now and the bags under eyes looking darker. The medicinal tea Kwenthrith had poured was meant to stimulate Ayla's appetite so that she would be encouraged to eat more on her own.

"Is the distance from your mate the reason behind your lack of interest in eating?" Kwenthrith asked. Turquoise eyes turned to look at her, the sadness in her eyes made Kwenthrith's heart twist with pain. As a beta, Kwenthrith will never know the feeling of a bond like the one shared between an alpha and omega once mated, she can only speculate that to be apart from her bond would feel much the same as losing a loved one. "Are you sick for your mate?"

Ayla sucked in a shaky breath, turning her eyes away from the beautiful elf. Sick for her mate, indeed. She silently cursed her bond with Sauron, but in truth, the distance put between them was less noticeable ever since she had smelled Thranduil's scent, finding the elven prince's earthy scent soothing. It was like the medicine her soul was in need of to heal. What was making Ayla sick was her broken heart, still mourning for her son that she held just once and for only minutes after birthing him. His death had been traumatic for her and the thought of her recovering while her son's soul was trapped within that cursed ring of power, and that she was powerless to stop Sauron. She didn't even have the chance to give him a name.

What was the point of the Arda sending her guidance to run away?

It just wasn't fair.

Tears filled her eyes and spilled out, sliding down her cheeks and alarming the beta. Ayla tried to hide them, wiping them away with the backs of her hands but more fell faster than she could dry them. Before she knew it, Ayla was sobbing into her hands.

Kwenthrith misinterpreted Ayla's sorrow as missing her mate, not knowing what else to do but simply wait for the omega to calm down enough and help her to the bed. She ordered the servants to drain the bath, knowing it was a waste but there was nothing to be done while the omega was distraught.

"Do you wish to be alone?" Kwenthrith asked. Ayla just nodded her head before burying herself beneath the blankets in her bed. With a soft sigh Kwenthrith left, silently directing the servants to also vacate the room. Just as she closed the door behind her she turned and was surprised to see Prince Thranduil standing behind her. "Forgive me, my lord, you startled me."

"Has Ayla eaten?" he asked, showing his concern for the human's health.

"No, my lord. She has perhaps only had a few bites before succumbing to her emotions again." Kwenthrith said.

"That will not do." Thranduil said, moving Kwenthrith aside and entering the room. He strode over to the bed and pulled back the covering over Ayla who gasped and curled up into a ball on the mattress. He slid his arms beneath her small body and pulled her up against his chest, carrying her over to the table where he sat down on the chair and balanced Ayla on his lap. Looking at her he knew that he had startled her and feeling her tensed up in his arms set a frown on his lips. He picked up the spoon and scooped up the broth, lifting it to her lips. "You must eat and get well."

Ayla stared at the spoon of broth Thranduil held up to her, her mind going blank as her irrational fear tensed up every muscle in her body. To have been hoisted up from her bed, her cheeks still wet with tears, and now sitting in Thranduil's lap, encompassed in his earthy smell had been more than she could handle as she sat frozen. This position felt sullied for her, reminding her of how Sauron would have her sit in his lap as he fed her during mealtimes. How it had once been an intimate act that Ayla had grown fond of doing, becoming bold to lick or suck her mate's fingers as he fed her and give each other heated looks.

"Eat, Ayla." the alpha commanded, snapping her back to the present and on impulse she obeyed, leaning forward and sipping up the luke warm broth. Thranduil scooped up more for her and fed it to her, repeating the action until the broth was gone. Setting the spoon down Thranduil looked at Ayla's face, her cheeks hollow and her beautiful eyes slightly sunken in. He reached up to gently cup the side of her face, brushing his thumb over her cheek. His instincts told him to comfort the omega, let her know that she was safe with him. He carefully drew her close to him until she was pressed against his chest and he moved her head to his neck so that she could take in his scent.

His chest rumbled as he purred, knowing instinctually that the vibration and sound would calm the omega who was clearly upset. He smiled, pleased when Ayla slowly relaxed against him and raised her face up into his neck, her nose rubbing against his scent gland. He rubbed her back, moving his hand up and down, his fingers able to feel every ridge of her spine and space between her ribs. It will be a slow process but Thranduil was determined to make Ayla healthy again. The prince wanted his omega to be well enough to carry his children. Yes, his inner beast did not care that Ayla was claimed by another because it already recognized the omega as his mate. She was his Fated Pair; he just knew it in his heart.

The prince just needed to find a way to get rid of the other alpha's mark on her neck.

Ayla breathed in his scent deeply, filling her lungs to full capacity. Her body relaxed against his, his purring calming her nerves and easing her mind, helping her forget her sadness. The feel of his hand stroking up and down her back felt nice, his hand was warm and gentle while his other hand was resting against her thigh with no ill intent. Thinking back, Sauron never did this for her, not since he had rescued her two years prior from the Avari. But that felt like it had been out of obligation. On top of that he had never once purred for her like this, he had never soothed her soul, only spun his deceitful words into her head. The way Thranduil held her, it felt like he wanted nothing more than to comfort her out of the kindness of his heart. This was…nice.

Ayla drifted off to sleep in Thranduil's gentle embrace, taking no notice when the prince carried her back to the bed and gently laid her down. He placed the blankets over her body, tucking her in gently and placing a kiss to her brow before quietly leaving the room. He saw that Kwenthrith had been waiting outside in the hall, standing against the opposite wall from the door.

"She has eaten and is now resting." he said. Kwenthrith nodded and Thranduil walked away, returning to his room where he leaned back against the heavy wooden door and let out a low, frustrated sigh. He hoped that he had done well to hide his raging erection from Kwenthrith, but doubted that the beta had not picked up on his arousal. Despite beta's having a lesser sense of smell they were still able to pick up certain smells.

Taking himself in hand, Thranduil began the task of stroking himself to completion all while thinking of his sleeping omega. He felt so undignified, doing such a thing, becoming unbearably hard from just holding and smelling an omega. If his father knew, no doubt the Elvenking would voice his disapproval and demand that the omega be thrown out his kingdom. Suffering his father's ire was worth it so long as he can keep Ayla safe and well.

He stared down at the floor, at the stain he had left on his pristine floor. He was forcing his breathing back into control. Ever since he presented as an alpha he had always felt entitled to his status, because he was born a prince, the heir to the throne. Everything was meant to fall into place for him without him having to work at it. He never once felt attached to any of the women or even the few men he had taken to bed. None had captured his interest aside from a single purpose. He would go into a rut once a year, using an omega who knew their place and would make sure to not carry his seed or bear his mark.

Yet with Ayla…

The alpha inside him recognized Ayla as his and he was sure that instinctually the omega in Ayla recognized it as well.

It was only a matter of time.

But he was terrified of his inner alpha hurting Ayla in any way. She had gone through a trauma that she was not ready to talk about, and he was searching for a way to erase her current mating mark so that she can be his. From what he had read thus far about alpha and omega bonding, he would have to strengthen their bond. He had already began marking her with his scent, and he will then spend as much time with her as possible between his duties for his father and for the Realm.

First, he needed Ayla to get stronger. Healthier.

That's it! He'll bond with her over meals. It is innocent enough and perhaps with him around it will encourage her to eat more. From there he can simply help her become a little more active and go on short walks to build up her strength and hopefully soon he will finally hear her voice. He hoped it sounded as sweet as she smelled.