Chapter 14
The sounds of muffled omega whimpers filled the room, only cutting through Oberon’s concentration occasionally.
He sat at the kitchen table, near enough to Fenrir to react if needed, but far enough to avoid the worst of the omega’s pheromones.
Pheromones that threatened to drag Oberon into the same insanity Fenrir was currently experiencing.
To counteract that, he had the window to his left wide open, braving the chill of winter as the sun faded below the horizon. They’d been locked in a battle of wills for a few hours already, but it was only just starting to seem like his “treatment plan” was working.
The red, inflamed patches of skin on Oberon’s right hand and his forearms weren’t as distracting as he worked. The frostnip delivered from Fenrir’s attack had burned in the beginning. There’d also been no way for O to dodge it.
His gaze momentarily took in the state of his living room and he scowled.
When his omega had launched himself at him, he’d also used his power to turn the house into a winter wonderland of sorts.
The fine layer of snow had melted, but puddles of water and soggy throw pillows were stark reminders of what Oberon had unwittingly found himself dealing with.
Refusing to punch his mate, O had momentarily feared he’d be overpowered, but as quickly as the burst of energy had come, it had fled, leaving Fenrir crumpling in his arms like a marionette with its strings cut.
Since chains on their own hadn’t done the trick, Oberon had hatched a new scheme based on all that he’d learned from Fiora.
Energy and pheromones may be different, but all species that possessed them regulated much the same way. By expelling pent-up stores.
The most effective way to do that?
Sex.
Of course, Oberon, not wanting to risk turning his junk into a frozen treat, had gotten creative.
His precious omega was currently riding an impressively sized dildo that Oberon had suction cupped to the seat before returning Fenrir’s ass to it.
The cuffs had been replaced with a new pair with insulation, and he’d secured his ankles this time as well.
A blindfold, ball gag, and nipple clamps completed the look.
On one hand, Oberon hoped to speed up the regulation process by cutting off Fenrir’s other senses, forcing the omega to focus on the silicone vibrating inside of him.
On the other hand…
It was fucking hot to watch.
O shook his head at himself.
Wanting back inside of his omega wasn’t the most pressing matter here—or, okay, it sort of was, since he was going through all this trouble of researching Shouts for that very reason.
While he was confident he could convince his mate not to freeze his bits, if Fenrir wasn’t in control of his abilities, there was no telling what might happen.
For the first time in his life, Oberon experienced self-doubt.
He’d always believed in his instincts, in following his alpha urges, but now he found himself forever linked to a man who could potentially stop his heart with a mere touch.
Shouts had various degrees of power, but Fenrir was clearly no weakling.
He’d created a tiny snowstorm in the living room within a flash, and flakes continued to drift now and again whenever there was too long a lull between orgasms. Things would go more smoothly with help from his alpha, but Oberon…
He didn’t want to openly admit he was afraid; wary was more like. Who wouldn’t be? He had the marks to prove that Fenrir was no easy opponent. If O got too close, he ran the risk of giving in to his urges again and ending up injured even worse.
No, the best way to help his omega was by keeping his distance and leaving the man where he was.
It was a pity there were no thrusting toys in the cottage, but O had never brought a lover here before, so it had never occurred to him to stock the place with such things.
The only reason he even had the vibrating dildo had been because it’d been a prank gift given by Baal one Yuletide.
The dildo was an exact replica of Oberon’s cock.
He’d sent a picture of the molding process to the underboss, who never gifted him anything like it again.
The shaft was large enough that it filled Fenrir entirely, and it’d been turned up to the highest vibration setting. Every time he experienced a prostate orgasm, sweet omega pheromones permeated the air, but Oberon could tell it was frustrating the omega to not be touched elsewhere.
His gaze lifted, settling to the spot between Fenrir’s spread thighs.
Fenrir’s dick was bright red and ramrod stiff, bobbing as he rocked his hips as much as he was able while chained. His attempts to ride the toy did nothing to soothe the ache in his neglected member, and as time trickled by, his frustration became more apparent.
Oberon could have anyone he wanted. Willingly, in fact.
He was one of the galaxy's most eligible bachelors despite his connections to the mafia, owned several attractive properties, ran two separate businesses, and had more coin than most Imperial families. The only reason he hadn’t settled down sooner was because he’d yet to find anyone who could catch his interest.
And yet here he was, mated to an omega who didn’t want him and who couldn’t control himself.
Fluids dripped from Fenrir’s front and rear, the scent of slick and come potent enough to tickle at Oberon’s nose even with the cold air filtering in through the window.
A few of the puddles on the ground weren’t from melted snow at all, and he was momentarily worried that his omega would get dehydrated and pass out.
Ironic that he was concerned for him at a time like this.
Was it because he’d made himself the man’s alpha?
Shouts and their counterparts, known as Whispers, could feel the bond between them, and even potentially experience each other's emotions through that invisible link. That wasn’t the case with alphas and omegas, but that didn’t mean they didn’t undergo biological changes when mated.
All of those primal urges Oberon was so proud of would be altered without his consciously realizing. His instincts would recalibrate. Fenrir was no longer a stranger or a one-night stand he’d purchased on a whim.
Fenrir belonged to him. Was his to do with as he willed.
There were alphas who abused this power, opting to twist the connection between them and give in to their obsessive nature.
O, however, had come from a relatively healthy home life, with parents who’d both cherished and respected one another.
It wasn’t common amongst the Synastry elite, but that didn’t make it a bad thing.
His alpha father had treated his omega mother as an equal.
Perhaps that was the major reason Oberon had rejected all advances in the past. He wasn’t after the kind of relationship with typical power imbalances. A submissive omega was only appealing if he knew he had to work to get him there.
Could he get Fenrir to submit?
Even in the throes of heat, the omega had been stubborn. His strength, though not as impressive as Oberon’s, was nothing to dismiss. Hell, if Fenrir also happened to be properly trained in self-defense, O could see him easily holding his own against at least half of the White Frost.
Trusting his instincts this time could end up being the biggest mistake he’d ever made.
Could be the last one as well, if he didn’t play his cards right.
First things first, regulating his omega enough that the two of them could have a heart-to-heart. Then he’d need to test the waters and see if there was any chance of Fenrir coming to the White Frost quietly. If he wanted to put up a fight…
“I’ll have to get you in line,” he murmured, not meaning to say the words out loud, and only realizing his slip when the groans came to an abrupt stop.
Fenrir tipped his head in his general direction, unable to pinpoint his exact location with the blindfold on.
“I’m not coming over there,” O announced, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. Lines of text continued to trail across the holographic screen he’d set up on the table, information about Shouts and their innate nature. “I’m also not going to be touching you any time soon.”
Fenrir tried to protest through the ball gag, saliva dripping from the corner of his lips. When he tugged on his bonds and the chair shook, Oberon clicked his tongue loudly enough to be heard.
“See, that right there is why you aren’t going to get what you want.
Behave, precious. It might not seem like it at the moment, but I’m doing this for the both of us.
I had Fiora run some numbers, and she’s fairly certain you’ll be able to burn through this influx of energy by tomorrow, but only if you’re left in a constant state of arousal.
It’s tough, but you can push through, can’t you. ”
He hadn’t posed it as a question, but Fenrir tried to argue anyway.
Oberon sighed. “Pheromones. That’s all you’re getting, understand?”
Torn over whether to send Fenrir soothing or lust ones, O settled on a mixture of both, switching between the two at random intervals as they settled into their own tasks once more.
Arguably, O was the one with the short end of the stick—both literally and figuratively, considering the length of the dildo shoved up Fenrir’s ass.
Oberon had to sit here and study while his omega got to come.
He’d take sexual torture over academic torture any day, and the fact that half of this information was probably already known by the omega made it even worse.
If he’d discovered Fenrir’s secret earlier, he could have held back with the bite until he’d sorted through everything and found a better place for it to happen.
Oberon paused.
Huh.
He’d still bite him. Even knowing what he knew now.
That was interesting.