Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
A fallen star.
That’s what the omega is. As pale and luminous as the pricks of light slowly winking to life above us.
Two of our suns have sunk. Now, with only the third sister’s dusky-pink glow to light the sky, violet darkness swells from the west. Putting our constellations on display.
I wonder if they’re very different from hers.
Will they deepen her despair?
I’m not sure I can bear that. I’m already mere breaths away from bursting through her portal again. If she sheds one more tear, I’ll lose the scraps of control I’m clinging to with my claws.
I can scent each droplet of sorrow, gods-damn me. And while the salty sadness pinches my hearts with a distinctly urgent twinge, it does nothing to combat the appeal of her.
I knew omegas supposedly smelled like the gods’ own reward. But she is perfect.
“I didn’t know,” Rask growls, the thin skin of his wings twitching with barely suppressed rage. “The Boplopes said she surrendered herself for rescue. And her scent was needful. I didn’t fucking know she didn’t want to come with us.”
He thinks I blame him for this predicament. Or, perhaps, he’s once again picking a fight by any means necessary.
Right now, I don’t have the emotional fortitude to battle the male I once considered my second brother. With Khanos’s curse like a noose around my neck, I rarely do these days.
“It was an honest mistake,” I reply, sighing. “You would never take possession of an omega against their will.”
That’s the truth. For all his other mischief, Rask is Stelaris’s staunchest devotee. His blush scales are covered in brands dedicated to the goddess of matehood. Once upon a time, he even believed he would be the first male in our generation to recognize his other half.
I wish he’d been right.
I wish it wasn’t me.
Or, maybe, I simply wish it wasn’t her.
There’s no denying the burn in my blood, though. A telltale hum of absolute rightness. Scalding, dizzy desire. The bone-deep need to protect, comfort, and mark her.
I felt it the second I entered the palace. Like a ripple in our atmosphere. Or perhaps a tectonic shift inside me.
This omega is my mate.
And I’m not sure anyone can ever know.
Breathing her fear and misery has solidified what I must do. The lie I have to live to protect this female’s freedom.
I saw the utter terror on her round, delicate features. Felt it slice into my very marrow.
I should have known better than to hope. Norabi assured me humans could not recognize mates. And now that we know the omega is here against her will...
Whatever bond I feel toward her will probably never be mutual. That won’t matter, though; if anyone finds out I’ve recognized her, she will be trapped at my side for all eternity. A prisoner of her fear and my need.
I’ve destroyed more than enough. Lost everything else.
By the gods, my own mate will not be a slave to me or the madness singing in my blood.
I’d sooner let Khanos wither. Or end my life and give another alpha my place. One who can stand the thought of breeding an omega who does not want him.
Rask watches me force a hard swallow. His bright, silver eyes narrow. They are the same color as his hair. Zazt and I used to make fun of him for that.
“You are not angry,” he realizes, flat and wary.
No. Not with him. I am exasperated with myself. And far too consumed with despair to deal with frustration.
“I’m overset,” I reply, keeping my voice dry to throw off any suspicion. “Try picking another fight after we confirm Mortana hasn’t skinned the omega alive. I’m sure I’ll be in better spirits.”
Rask huffs, allowing his head to fall back. His shorter, hooked horns hit the stone slab with a dull thunk. Graceless as ever. And utterly unconcerned about it. “Damn old bitch,” he mutters.
He isn’t fooling me. He has the same inexplicable affinity for our capital’s eldest member that Norabi and I do. To say nothing of her grandson, Cylus, our Chief Healer.
Rask’s thoughts align with mine; he turns to the empty hallway beside us, cursing. “—called that fucking asshole the moment we landed. What the hells is taking so long?”
Knowing what little I do of Cylus, I assume he’s dallying on purpose. He’s quite possibly the most brilliant male on our planet—and definitely the most advanced scientist alive. If he’s not here this long after being summoned, he’s making a point.
It’s well-received. Especially since our cavalier actions have effectively ruined an innocent female’s life and potentially brought about the untimely end of my own.
It chafes to know there’s nothing we could have done differently. If I had gone to the Selection in Rask’s place, there’s no way I would have left this human behind. And one of us had to choose an omega.
I’ve exhausted every option here, except for forcibly handing my crown to another. Since I have no living family members, my demise would mean thousands of alphas across all three territories would fight to take my position. Most would battle to the death, because our honor demands it.
Compared to that, taking an alien omega felt like a prudent choice. No one could have known we’d be ruined all the same.
Not even a cunning strategist like Rask.
“I don’t blame you,” I tell him. Because he needs to know. I don’t want this festering in his mind. Zazt wouldn’t have wanted that, either.
Rask spits out a scoff. “Thank you, oh Great One,” he mocks. “But you’d better save your shit for the omega you have to breed later.”
Morfu’s hells. The thought of being close enough to breed her has my cocks ticking along my thigh. She isn’t in view, yet my knots swell. Hot blood pooling with each thick pump from my twin hearts.
Every beat making me more hers.
Bringing me closer to my own bitter end.