Chapter Fifteen
Virion
He’d had his fertile period during isolation, a warm night of self-pleasure. It was lighter than his usual cycles, coming off of nightflower. Cycles on nightflower were lighter anyway, so it’d been many years since he’d had a full fertile period. That night, he’d had his first full one in a long time, and it appeared that it would be the last for a while.
Virion rolled over onto his side and pulled a blanket over his head, surrounding himself in Nemiah’s scent.
“Prince Virion.” The healer’s voice wasn’t any more soothing than anyone else that morning. Rolling nausea greeted him, and for an omega late on his cycles, there was only one conclusion.
“I can perform my examination better if you aren’t hiding beneath a quilt.” Virion could hear the smugness in Nilla’s voice. “Like Nemiah when he was a little one, refusing medicine. I swear you two must get along well.”
“I can tell you how much we get along.” He stuck a hand out and gestured at a covered chamber pot that Nemiah had procured for him so he didn’t have to scamper to the garderobe. “That much.”
“May I ask what other symptoms ail you, my prince?” The healer, Nilla, didn’t move from where she stood and her tone didn’t improve, either. Tinkling amusement played out in every syllable.
“I’m tired.”
She hummed in acknowledgement and scribbled something down in her journal. “As is normal.”
“I’m in a foul mood for no reason!” Virion’s churlish behavior seemed unreasonable to him, but at the same time, his entire being emanated a foulness.
With a stifled huff of laughter, Nilla wrote something else down. “I wouldn’t say you’re without cause.”
“And my back hurts and I want cake! But I don’t want cake because if I were a commoner, it’d be so sad to be unable to have cake if you wanted it this bad.” Tears pricked Virion’s eyes, and he snarled them away before rubbing at his face with the corner of the quilt.
“Uh-huh.” The endless scribbling continued. “So, we’re both on the same page, I think. I’ll have to do a physical examination, but in all likelihood you’re carrying. What does your magic tell you?”
“My thalm count is thirty-two. If I even try to do magic, things spark right now. Thanks.” Virion sighed heavily and pulled the blankets away, sitting up. It’d only been a lunar cycle since his forced heat, a full cycle and a half off of nightflower. He had every chance of conceiving—and at the moment, that wasn’t a problem.
She bowed her head, dark hair slicked back into a neat bob behind her head, attention focused in her little notebook as she scribbled. She reached a hand out with a perfunctory touch, thalmic energy humming over her fingertips as she prodded over his belly. “I see. I’d have to agree you’re carrying. This is good news, yes?”
“Yes.” Virion groaned and winced as Nilla lifted his tunic and rested a cold hand beneath his navel. He hissed, stomach jolting.
“Well, we all suspected, but it’s strong enough to tell so far.” She turned away, writing in her notebook. “Bedrest for a few days until you’re feeling better. Bland foods—though our bland may still be—”
“Please. I like Drashil food better.” Virion let his head fall back with a sigh.
“Okay. So our version of bland and if it’s too much, please tell someone. You weren’t at a super-healthy weight when you arrived, thanks to that barbaric cleansing.” She scoffed and closed the notebook.
“By bedrest, does that mean I have to stay in bed the whole time?” He pouted.
“It means no carnal acrobatics and take all the naps you care to. No lifting anything heavy and if you find yourself falling asleep at your desk, let our queen manage.”
Virion grumbled. “I wish to see Nemiah and blame him for this. And if we cannot engage in acrobatics , can we at least engage in some light calisthenics?”
“I’ll have the guard escort you. Try to keep it tame?” She sauntered out and Virion rose to dress himself, having sent the nymphs away that morning as they tried to placate him with coos and back pats. If they’d really wanted to soothe him, they’d have brought cake.
When Virion finished dressing, the guards ushered him from Nemiah’s wing, past the bedroom at the opposite end of the hall where once Virion had slept. Each turn and step they took through the castle brought them closer to the distant scent of burning thalms, blacksteel, frit, and oil.
Once past the libraries and offices, Kiara peeked her head out, a pursed-lip expression dashed across her face. “Am I a grandmother?”
Rather than say something hurtful, which Virion had the urge to do, he settled her with a lingering stare. “I’ve not spoken to my husband yet. Whatever news I have, if any, will be shared once the only other participant in the event is informed.”
Her eyes lit up, but she didn’t argue further, receding into her office to leave Virion to his task of storming his mate’s lab, informing him of what they already knew, and bartering for some sort of affection. Virion didn’t think he could handle an orgasm at that moment, but he damn well wanted Nemiah’s hands all over him.
When they got to his lab, Nemiah sat at his desk, staring at blank sheets of paper. The pen in his hand had gone dry, the ink long solidified from its last dip in the well.
“Husband!” Virion announced himself and marched in as the guards shut the doors behind him.
Nemiah fumbled his pen and glanced up, his eyes wide and expression untrained. If Virion were any judge of it, he’d have labeled the expression as guilt. “You bear news?”
“I bear more than news, you fool. That Liaberian noble’s trickery has seen to your heir.” Virion sneered and Nemiah stood with a scoot of metal across stone, mouth open slightly.
“For sure? This is… I cannot say unexpected. Truly?” Nemiah’s fa?ade fully fell away as he rushed up and embraced Virion.
“Don’t!” Virion pulled away and covered his mouth. The waves of nausea came and went, and they assured him he’d be fine closer to the afternoons, but the way his taste buds were going, he wasn’t sure.
Nemiah pulled away and stood, hands lifted as though he were unsure of what move to make. “I apologize. This is good news for us both.”
“Yeah. You have your heir for my father’s money, and I have cemented my stay.” Virion leaned against a wall, and Nemiah’s face twisted into a snarl of unrestrained anger. His helpless posture stiffened, and he strode forward, caging Virion in with his arms for a few shaking breaths. Almost tenderly, he reached up and cupped Virion’s cheek, tilting his face up so their noses touched. His bullish horns pushed free in a display of his alpha claim, drawing a whimper of submission from Vir.
“You. Are. Mine. I have claimed you as the moon has blessed. I look upon you with great favor, your mind, body, and spirit. I shall have no other . As our souls have melded, we are equals, understand?” Nemiah’s cold tones shook with a barely restrained rage.
Virion could only manage a shaky nod.
“That money you are looking at is for the thalmway. You and our young are insurance.” Nemiah’s hand on Virion’s chin released and slid down to palm the flat of his belly. There, his magic swarmed beneath Nemiah’s fingertips. He let his magic skim the surface of Virion’s and closed his eyes, as if feeling that flicker of magic that burned like an ember in him. “And in a few months’ time, you’ll board the thalmway at my side, show your father what a prince you’ve become while my engineers install the Telecon you made possible.”
With a gentle swallow, Virion nodded. “Yes.”
“I will sing your praises and you will earn your father’s admiration. Do you understand?”
Virion nodded once more.
“And…” Nemiah’s nose brushed over Virion’s face, lips brushing with warm breath trailing over his skin. Firm lips stroked Virion’s ear, a tongue trailing the helix before halting. A wave of nausea threatened to rise up and with a swift, but firm, nip, Virion’s entire body jolted with a breathy whimper, pleasure shooting through him as all nausea faded away. “There. Feeling better?”
Sinking against the wall, Virion’s lips fell open. He stifled a soft whimper that borderlined on sexual. And despite the strong pleasure he felt, his cock remained still and listless. “Much. And I’ll never earn my father’s admiration.”
Virion closed his eyes, and strong hands moved to cradle and lift him. Swaying footsteps brought him to a seat atop a dusty workbench. His clothes would be stained, but nothing magic couldn’t fix.
“You can and will.” Nemiah nosed his way to Virion’s other ear, nipping that same spot opposite he’d nipped earlier. The palpable release flowed through, making Virion nearly melt. “The Vitalis springs have gone dry.”
Virion gasped and jerked away from Nemiah’s touch, eyes wide. “No!”
“It seems they’re relying on a store of it at the moment, but something about you being necessary to bless the springs. Alluin didn’t realize you were the one that held the goddess’s favor. And he gave you away to the moon so casually.” Nemiah brought Virion’s face in for a soft brush of lips. “So your father will get on his knees and beg .”
Virion’s cheeks went hot with a strange flurry of motions. “I can’t travel like I am.”
“Not via carriage. Give it two months and the rail will be laid. I’ve already got engineers on their way on the first leg of rail with a Telecon.” Nemiah chuckled darkly. “A gift from his beloved omega son.”
“No!” Virion’s spirits lightened as he chuckled. “But why would the goddess favor an omega? Why would he need me to bless the springs?”
“I’ve never spoken to the sun before. You’d have to ask her.”
“The sun doesn’t speak to omegas.” Virion twisted his lips in confusion.
The hurt on Nemiah’s face morphed into pity. “This eve, when our goddess rises, you will speak to her. I’m uncertain as to how one speaks to the sun, but the moon will give you messages from her sister if needed.”
“Will the sun want to hear me? Why do I need to return to bless the springs when the sun doesn’t speak to omegas?” Tears stung Virion’s eyes. Years of going to dawn worshipping once a season and watching the sun rise to align with the monoliths as the clerics called her missives had long made him wary of his place in the world. Omegas sat in the back. Omegas never prayed, nor were they taught how.
“She will speak to you more dearly than any cleric. I feel that it is not the goddess that doesn’t wish to speak to you, but the king that doesn’t wish you to speak to her.” Nemiah cradled the sides of his face and nuzzled over his cheek. “But if she doesn’t, know that you are under the moon’s protection and she loves you.”
Virion could feel a certain buzz in the magic between them.
She loves you. And for a moment, Virion could feel that Nemiah did, too.