Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I might have lied to the human, for I suspect I might have one true friend.
Insolence.
One of those concepts, like treason, that really has no definition. More of the sense that you recognize it when you see it.
Well, here I am. Answering a commanding officer’s summons nearly half a day later. Flaunting my disdain for our king.
The way I found both of them didn’t help matters. When the palace staff informed me the Zortaire never retired to his chambers, I knew all too well where he was.
Sure enough, our ruler spent the night slumped in the omega’s antechamber. When I return from her examination, he’s still there, staring at the last of the dimming stars as the first sun begins to rise.
Across the circular space, the General snores, his horns propping his head against the wall. Our Zortaire slowly turns his head. Bleary violet eyes absorb my displeasure.
“How is she?” he asks, voice hollow.
“Well enough.”
Remarkably so, for what she has endured. The memory of her soft, fangless mouth quirking into an expression of mirth floats through my mind. Along with how her scent noticeably… shifted.
“But there is a problem.”
Rask comes to life all at once, revealing that his slumber wasn’t nearly as deep as he let on. His silver eyes fly to mine. “Problem? With the omega?”
“On her planet, a being of her species and preferred gender is referred to as a woman,” I correct. “And her name is Sofi,” I grind out. Forcing myself not to feel the words. “But, yes. Her scent is changing. She will need an alpha to tend to her. Soon.”
Rask and Zolkan look at one another. The General grits his teeth, jaw visibly working, before he staggers to his clawed feet. With a sneering smirk, he waves at the omega’s room—as if to challenge our king or mock him into motion.
Perhaps I’m not as insolent as I believe.
The Zortaire sighs, hanging his head. “If she needs to be sedated, please see to it, Cylus. Or tend to her yourself, if it pleases you both. You are an alpha, are you not?”
His question is an insult. Or a poor attempt at playing dumb. He knows I was widely considered one of the stronger alphas in the North.
But here, in this moment? I don’t feel strong. I only feel dismay.
And then rage.
The General must agree. His silvery eyes bulge as he bellows, “Him?!” At the same second I demand, “Me?”
Zolkan does not look at either of us. His gaze fixes on the portal, burning with a new urgency I’m not sure I like.
My throat dries, disapproval turning hoarse.
“Zortaire, I must protest. You’ve gone to the trouble of having the human Selected and brought here.
Is it her physical differences? I have charts to explain her anatomy, if you wish to see them.
There’s one small nub called a ‘clitoris’ that seems promising—”
My mind automatically projects the images I discovered against the front wall of my skull. So much softness. I shake my head to clear it, remembering my point.
“—but, surely, you are her male, and she is to be bred by you.”
Zolkan’s jaw flexes. Furious heat burns brightly in his dark eyes. He only glares at me for a moment before whipping his attention back to the omega chamber. Staring at the sealed entrance, he steadies himself against the wall and pushes to his feet.
I notice his tail whipping against the floor, belying his denial. A surge of alpha musk rolls off him, thick and potent enough to raise my hackles and strike a competitive growl in Rask’s chest. Still, our king fights his obvious lust. His fangs flash as he hisses an exhale.
“I’m afraid that will be—” Zolkan pauses “—impossible.”
Biologically, it should be impossible for him to leave her when she’s near a heat surge. Rask rears back like he’s been struck.
“You’re saying no!” he practically roars—an accusation, not a question.
Fire crackles in Zolkan’s violet irises, his Alpha instincts reacting to the challenge before he manages to duck his head, showing his large, curved horns—the universal Roktusian gesture for shame.
I hear it in his voice, too. “I’m saying…” he answers, rasping. “I cannot.”
Our General is known throughout the capital for his hot-horned nature, but I’ve never seen him quite this furious. His dusty-pink skin darkens. The scales clustered around his eyes and over his shoulders tighten while his muscles flex.
Leathery wings rustle as he arches his neck back. He snaps it forward just as quickly, showing the king his own horns as he spits at Zolkan’s feet.
It doesn’t help. Disgusted wrath still oozes from Rask as he promptly turns on his heel and leaves the antechamber.
I hate that I understand his outrage. Because, at the moment? With the thought of the displaced omega alone, in a heat surge?
My twin tails snap against the auridian floor.
It’s not my fault. This is what omegas do to alphas. And this human—Sofi—is the first omega on Khanos in more than two hundred orbits.
Of course I feel as if I’ll burst out of my fur. It’s only natural. I know that. Just as I know that if I don’t get out of this hallway soon, I’ll be stalking right back into her room to—
Tart sweetness permeates the air. Shimmering and sharp. Irresistibly needful.
Oh gods.
Fucking hells.
Omega.