Chapter 20 #2
“That I would toss Michelle to Fiora and let her experience every ounce of the horror and agony that she made you endure.” O noted the way Fenrir’s shoulders stiffened at the mention of the Butcher.
He definitely had an issue with doctors, maybe scientists, or people wearing white coats in general.
That was a trauma they were going to have to work through.
“I’m not a good person either,” Fenrir ended up saying, turning his head to gaze out at the night. It was too dark to see much outside the window, but the firelight reflection flickered in the glass, and his gaze landed there. “Maybe I was, once. I can’t remember.”
“The White Frost has a reputation, as do I. I don’t need a weak partner, precious.
I’ll take you as you are. You don’t have to be good.
” He leaned in and captured Fenrir’s chin, forcing his gaze back onto him.
“You just have to behave.” His thumb traced the omega’s bottom lip.
“You’re so alluring. Everything about you. Right from the start.”
“Is that why you bid on me?” Fenrir didn’t pull away.
“Yes.”
“Is it why you bit me?”
The corner of Oberon’s mouth twitched, but he caught himself. “Yes. I wanted to possess you. I still do.”
“The claiming bite altered my—”
He heaved a sigh and lightly pushed the omega away. “I don’t want to hear about how my pheromones subdued yours.”
“But that’s what happened. My energy frequency recalibrated to match the change in my pheromones after you formed the bond. You said it yourself back at the cottage. My Shout nature only recognizes you now, and my omega nature is no different. You’re my alpha.”
“How do you feel about that?”
Fenrir thought it over. “Fine.”
“Fine?” He snorted derisively. “That’s it?”
“I’m not sure what you want me to say, King.”
“I want you to tell me that you don’t think I’m anything like her,” he snapped, momentarily losing his composure. Then he ducked his head and scarfed down half the noodles when the omega went quiet on him all over again.
“Don’t most alphas on this planet claim their mates in much the same way you did?” Fenrir finally asked once Oberon’s bowl was empty. “This isn’t Glyph. We don’t have as many rights or expectations here.”
“What are your expectations?”
“I told you,” Fenrir searched his gaze, “I want this to be real.”
“It is.”
“Because you find me alluring?”
“Because I like how you think being a good omega means being subservient,” he said. “And I like how bad at it you are.”
“I was born a Shout and an alpha,” Fenrir reminded.
“That has nothing to do with it. Again, precious, presentation isn’t a personality trait.”
Fenrir stared at him for a minute. “You aren’t at all what I expected.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It was meant as one.”
“Have you thought about what kind of alpha you’d like before?” Oberon almost didn’t want to know, but since he was finally getting Fenrir to open up and let his guard down, he couldn’t blow the opportunity to glean more about him.
“Never. What about you?”
“Gifting someone the bite was never on my mind.”
“So then why did you give it to me?”
“It felt right.” Oberon shrugged. “I always act on impulse.”
“You can afford to.”
He grinned. “You aren’t wrong.”
“I could kill you.”
“You could.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” Oberon was aware of the type of power the omega could wield.
“You aren’t worried?”
“You aren’t going to kill me, precious.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I know you.”
“You don’t—” Fenrir’s protest died on his tongue when Oberon reached out and poked the area over his heart.
“I know you here. Like I said, it’s a feeling. My instincts told me you were mine, so you’re mine. You aren’t going to kill me, Fenrir, because I really am your best option. I can give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of. You won’t find anyone better suited to your needs.”
Oberon wanted to flip the omega over and strip him but held back. It was too soon. He needed to give Fenrir space, the opportunity to approach him first, for both of their sakes.
With a sigh, he stood, holding out a hand when he wobbled and Fenrir went to rise with him. “I’m fine. Just moved too fast. I’m going to wash up and then get some sleep. We’ll probably be trapped here for a while, I suggest you do the same.”
“Later,” Fenrir told him. “I’m going to sit here for a bit longer.”
“Okay.”
Oberon didn’t bother with the shower, slipping into the tiny, attached bathroom to relieve himself and change into a pair of gray silk pajamas.
As soon as the smooth material touched his skin, his eyes slipped shut.
Creature comforts were so important. He was glad he hadn’t forgotten to stock quality clothing like he’d forgotten the table.
There was no sink in the bathroom, so he had to walk out and brush his teeth in the main space, propping a hip against the counter beneath the shelving units so he could see his omega.
Fenrir was facing the fireplace, knees turned up, arms wrapped around them. He peered into the flames sightlessly, seemingly unaware of Oberon’s presence. There was a good distance between him and the fireplace though, with him practically sitting on the end of the rug, as far as he could be.
O wondered what he was thinking about. Wondered if he occupied even a small corner of the omega’s mind. Being attacked by the Wardrobe hadn’t been in the cards, but he found he was rather pleased with the outcome.
What better chance to get to know and adjust to one another than this? Being literally trapped, with nowhere else to go and no one to disturb them?
If he could control the weather like Fenrir could, Oberon would ensure the snow didn’t stop until they’d run out of food and no other choice but to rejoin the land of the living.