Valgar
The strength of his reaction had shocked him to the core. He’d wanted to— to keep going. By earth and sky, he’d nearly...
He hadn’t, which was what mattered. It’d have been beyond the pale, broken his word every which way even with how little he’d spoken to his new omega.
Because what he had spoken were the vows of protection and loyalty.
Quincy was altogether a different creature, even now, he was curled up inside his own head, prickly and alert like he expected an attack at any moment.
Afraid, there was no other word for it.
But, despite what his every action had demonstrated so far, not defenceless or defeated.
The meekness was the act of a master, because inside Lord Quincy was burning with barely repressed anger.
Valgar had never heard of an omega resisting a bond and even the idea seemed strange.
Naturally in civilised society, omegas received warning and consented to be taken by the alpha their guardians selected for them, and so they would have no reason to resist. But even so, he had not thought them capable of it.
It had been quite natural for Quincy to be hesitant the previous day, but surely once he’d had a good night’s sleep, he would have seen that he had to surrender himself to the alpha his head of house had chosen for him?
He wanted to ask Mar if she’d ever felt that way. Not about him, their bond was too open for any such doubts to arise, and they’d had time for a long courting when they’d been young—back when his brother had still lived.
Still, if anyone could understand, it would be her.
Quincy surprised him again with his direct gaze, grey and steady, curious but cold. His dark hair was dishevelled but he’d managed to make the torn robe look better somehow.
Valgar walked up to him and offered a hand, ignoring the brief hesitation before the omega took it, allowing Valgar to help him stand.
Quincy kept his eyes demurely down as Valgar walked him to his own rooms. He was going to bed the man, but Valgar could not think of a single thing to say to him. He opened the door for him instead.
Despite being the youngest of his siblings and never allowed into proper battle, Valgar was a man of action.
He stepped up to his omega and tugged the damaged tunic looser, baring the well-turned shoulders and collarbones.
His eyes caught on the bloody mark he’d left on Quincy’s neck, and he bent over and licked at the blood, long and steady and then again, enjoying the way the other man shuddered at his touch.
He bit a little, pinching the skin between his teeth and sucking, and Quincy’s breath hitched tellingly, something electric going through the bond.
Surprise, Valgar guessed and straightened and took his mouth once more, gentler, but just as deep, exploring this new territory that was now his own.
The rest of the tunic did not make it long before he pulled it down past Quincy’s shoulders and let it pool at his feet, dragging him against his own body by the waist. It was only when his other hand fell to the omega’s arse that he discovered that his new mate wore no underclothes.
His nails dug into the soft flesh, cock stiffening so suddenly he froze in place, trying to regain his self-control. Of course, Quincy was naked, when the Veolians had meant for Valgar to spread him open and mount him right there in their throne room.
That helped him gentle his touch somewhat, pulled him from the powerful tide of arousal clouding his mind and reminded him of what this was meant to be. It had been fifteen years of lovemaking since his first time with Mar. And this was not lovemaking, there was no point in pretending otherwise.
He’d been so worried he’d hurt her he’d been nearly paralysed, and arousal had been secondary.
Now, letting go required all his mental discipline, but of that he was not in short supply, and looking down at his omega’s body—not nubile, but a little round but strong, most definitely a man’s body, he found nothing there to explain the way his blood was burning.
“Undress me,” he told Quincy.
The omega man hid his surprise well enough, the flash of it through their bond made Valgar frown.
He had been aware he was mating a stranger, naturally, but even so, the extent of what he did not know about his new mate seemed to grow by the minute, like a mountain that had tricked his eyes from a distance.
Quincy’s hands were steady on his buttons as far as Valgar could tell, and his mind had quieted again, a barely contained thrum in the background.
His hands were big even for a man his size.
No, for an omega. Omega men were always smaller, delicate too, and his mate did not quite fit.
He was shorter than Valgar, but he’d tower over Mar.
Valgar hadn’t paid enough attention, Quincy’s aura more than enough for his brain to classify him as omega and therefore small and in need of protection.
The tension in the bond grew tighter, like a string pulled to an almost breaking point, and Quincy’s hands fumbled at the buttons near Valgar’s crotch, pulling at the fabric in a vain attempt to keep his knuckles from brushing Valgar’s erection.
Valgar closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation.
“Come now,” he said when he could speak again and attempted some levity. If they didn’t find some, one of them was going to keel over. “You are no untouched flower, I’m well aware of that.”
Quincy finished with the last button and stepped back; gaze focused somewhere to the side. “My alpha was a woman.”
Valgar’s heart skipped a beat, stomach tightening in anger. “I’m your alpha.”
The omega swallowed, growing even stiller somehow, and Valgar gritted his teeth and forced his temper down. The blankness where Quincy had retreated made him a little desperate.
“What was her name?” he asked, and his voice was rough but even.
The answer took a beat too long, but Quincy was not to be blamed for being wary of him, a stranger that held so much power now. “Yara val Avlen.”
The name meant nothing to him, but in the bond, the grief of the loss was impossible to miss. As if this was too great for Quincy to hide. And grief Valgar knew well; he had lost nearly everyone he had ever loved.
“Well, then you shall refer to her by her name from now on.”
It was not much that he was giving, but the woman was dead, and what had been hers was now Valgar’s, he would not allow himself the pettiness of trying to erase her memory.
He took care of his underclothes himself, dropping them on a chair for Revel to deal with later, and turned back to his omega to find him looking down but very much not at the floor. He could not repress a smile, knowing he cut a good figure.
Of course, this man had never seen a male alpha in the flesh before, but even so, his grey eyes were seeking more skin, and though his small member gave no signs of it yet, Valgar could feel his skin growing sensitive already through the bond.
Unlike many alpha boys, he’d begun courting not long after presenting at fifteen and he’d never wanted anyone but Mar.
He knew himself to be unusual in that respect.
For one thing, his grandfather had clearly not been able to even attempt respect and keep his lovers away from his three omega mates.
There were plenty of villagers with water magic to prove it even now.
Even so, Valgar had known it wouldn’t be a problem to perform his duties in the bedroom. He’d been shyly aware of Mar before bonding her and once he had...
Well, they’d been teased she’d be pregnant in a matter of weeks.
She had been and promptly lost the babe only a month later.
Back then, he hadn’t really thought what he was meant to have a child for, only that it was the done thing, and that his parents and brother wanted it for him.
And he’d liked Mar, who once they’d spent a little time together, had revealed a wicked sense of humour under her proper lady-like exterior.
Quincy was biting his lip and swallowing, visible signs of the discomfort he had mostly muffled through the bond.
Was that something he’d learned with his last alpha?
Valgar wondered. He couldn’t see why he would need to, of course one tried not to let one’s strong emotions rush through the bond without warning, but actually trying to hide them was the opposite of its purpose.
Bonds stabilised both partners, allowing them internal help to process their emotions so they could act with a clear mind.
Valgar went to him, doing his best to project his own confidence that everything would be well.