Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
TALIANA
The Alpha’s questions echo through the sterile room, his tone demanding answers. Or maybe it’s just his commanding presence that makes me feel the need to obey every word.
He’s powerful.
I can feel it in his aura, taste it in his scent.
Gods, he smells good. Like a calming fire on a chilly night. Burning wood, the kind my father used when trying to keep us warm in the nomad lands.
That must be why this Alpha’s cologne puts me somewhat at ease—he reminds me of a time when I was content and safe.
But he’s asking about my father.
Asking if I want a Drakonian mate or if my dad forced me to be here.
“No,” I tell the Alpha, the word coming out with a little more force than I intended. However, I can’t let him think badly of my father. “He brought me here first. To… to offer me as an Omega.”
“That doesn’t sound very willing,” the Alpha mutters, causing me to look at him again. It’s a bold move on my part—meeting the gaze of an Alpha—but I need him to believe me. To listen to me.
“I’m an Omega, Alpha. I can take a knot.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Then what are you asking?” I demand and almost instantly wince when I realize I’m stepping outside of my role. “I’m sorry, Alpha. I—”
He catches my chin, effectively halting my words, and forces me to meet his gaze again. “Do you want to be here?”
I swallow, uncertain of how to answer that. Not with him so close to me. And… and obviously angry. Right? I mean, he has to be angry. I talked back to him. Alphas don’t usually like that. My father is a bit of an exception, as he’s always been indulgent where I’m concerned.
Or, well, that’s what other Alphas have said, anyway.
He’s always encouraged me to speak my mind. Yet he warned me to obey the Alphas of Gold Sector. To not meet their gazes. To not question their authority. To… to play my part of a—
“Taliana,” the Alpha says, my name on his lips sounding somewhat foreign.
No, not foreign… erotic. I like the way his subtle accent curls around my name, making me sound exotic. Unique. Beautiful.
I’m not quite sure how to define his lilt. It’s nothing like I’ve heard before in the nomad lands. Maybe a bit Greek?
Although, I don’t know what Greek actually sounds like. But this land—Gold Sector—used to be a Greek Island. Santorini, my father once told me. He’s old enough to remember a time when Greece existed, his birth well preceding the Infected Era.
A time when humans ruled the world and supernaturals lived in secret among them.
Then the zombielike plague hit and wiped out most of mortal kind, as well as several supernaturals, too.
I have no idea what it was like to live back then, just the stories my father has shared with me.
“Taliana,” the Alpha says again, making me shiver. His grip loosens on my chin, his thumb leaving to trace my jaw. “Do you want to be here?”
There’s a gentleness to his tone that confuses me. Is he angry or not? I wonder, searching his gold eyes. He doesn’t look angry. He seems calm. Concerned, even.
“Does it matter what I want?” I ponder aloud, somewhat confused by his question.
“Yes. Very much.”
“Why?” I ask him.
“Because we value consent here, and if your father brought you here against your will to mate you off, I need to know.” A subtle hint of dominance flows through his words again, one that accentuates his commanding presence. It makes me want to confide in him.
Yet I don’t even know his name.
I can’t trust him.
But I also don’t want to risk him thinking poorly of my father.
I need the Drakonian Alphas to accept me as a potential mate and provide my father with a handsome reward. So he can survive in the nomad lands.
Or maybe even… be allowed to stay here. With me.
Clearing my throat, I try to answer this Alpha’s question by saying, “My father wants what’s best for me.”
Those golden eyes flare while he stares down at me, his touch leaving my chin as his hand falls to his side.
I suddenly feel a bit cold despite the cloak covering my body from neck to toe.
Why did he do that? I wonder, still surprised by the gesture.
The fabric is warm and smells like burning embers, like Alpha.
It has my wolf purring inside, content to be surrounded by such a soothing cologne.
Only my father has ever made me feel safe like this. Strange that an Alpha I barely know has the same impact.
“And what did your father say is best for you?” the Alpha asks.
I chew on my cheek, considering how to respond to that.
“The truth, Taliana. I need to understand why you’re really here.”
My brow furrows. What kind of statement is that? He knows why I’m here—to be evaluated for a mate.
Unless…
“Were you not at the assembly today?” I ask, confusion coloring my tone. “Wait, who are you?” Should he even be in here with me? “You’re not the doctor…” I don’t phrase it as a question, but as a statement.
He said something about the doctor before, asking where the doctor was, but his voice and presence distracted me from considering what that meant. Or considering the relevance at all. But now—
His palm circles my throat, the touch hot and demanding against my flesh and capturing every ounce of my attention.
“Breathe, Omega,” he demands, his thumb running up and down the column of my neck. “Inhale.”
I shudder as his order rolls through me, forcing me to obey, to supplicate, to… to… Oh. My eyes nearly fall shut when sweet relief hits my senses as air fills my lungs.
“Good girl. Now exhale for me,” he says, his voice warming my skin, his nearness something my wolf welcomes more than she should.
My limbs tingle from following his command, my insides seeming to calm.
At some point… I… I began to panic. Which isn’t like me. I survived Obsidian Sector and the nomad lands. What makes Gold Sector so different?
Why am I so nervous here?
Because I know they’re going to judge me for being a wolf.
Then they won’t accept me as an Omega mate.
And I’ll be forced back into the nomad lands… without suppressants.
“My name is Oros,” the Alpha says, his tongue rolling over the r of his name to give it a sensual appeal. “And yes, I attended the assembly, as you called it. And no, I am not the doctor. I’m here as your guardian. Nothing more.”
I blink at him. Guardian? That… that seems like a strange term. Yet rather than questioning it, I find myself asking, “Is ‘Oros’ Greek?”
His lips curl, causing the defined features of his too-handsome face to melt from aristocratic in nature to an expression of pure amusement. “No, little diamond. It’s Romanian.”
“Oh.” I’m not quite sure where Romanian comes from. My knowledge of previous countries and locations is limited to what my father has shared with me.
The Alpha—Oros—strokes my neck once more, then removes his touch. “Are you here willingly, Taliana? Or is your father forcing you to take a mate?” His voice is soft again, but his gold irises glitter with knowledge. Intensity. Power.
He’s muting his energy somehow, allowing me to continue meeting his gaze, but I can sense the vitality swirling around him.
This is no ordinary Alpha.
Of course, he’s a dragon shifter. And not just any dragon shifter, a Drakonian. Just like my father. Only, Oros puts my father’s energy to shame. Which is saying a lot, given how powerful my father is in beast form.
“My father arranged this meeting so I can find a mate. He’s not forcing me to be here, but I also don’t have a choice,” I tell Oros, the truth just sort of falling from my mouth. “I’m an Omega living in the nomad lands. I… I need a mate.”
“For protection,” Oros says, nodding. “I see.” He glances over me. “How old are you, Taliana?”
“Twenty-one.”
His eyebrows lift slightly. “You survived three years of estrous cycles… without a knot?”
Moons, I’ve said too much. Yet I’ve barely said anything at all, and he’s already driving straight to the heart of why I’m really here. I ran out of suppressants, and now my heat is imminent. So I don’t have a choice. I need a mate.
But I… I can’t tell him the suppressant part. It’s forbidden to use medication to stall an Omega’s heat. The Drakon Alphas won’t approve. They’ll probably shun me for it.
And I’m already going to suffer their ire when they realize I don’t have an inner dragon.
“You claimed you’re untouched,” Oros presses. “That means you’ve never been knotted, yes?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “But I’m an Omega. I can take one. However, I know you’ll need to… to confirm that.”
“I already said I don’t fuck unwilling women, Taliana,” he says, folding his arms over his mostly bare chest.
I… I didn’t notice before, too lost in his gaze and presence to really admire his Alpha form, but he’s quite chiseled. He’s also adorned in a unique golden armor that appears to be glued to his skin.
His chest moves on a slow exhale, the motion highlighting the contours of his pectorals and biceps.
Yes, this is a very good-looking Alpha.
“All right.” His tongue twirls across the r like it did when he told me his name, causing my focus to go to his mouth. “Let’s start over, okay?”
“Start over?” I echo, meeting his gaze again.
“Yes. Today’s exam isn’t about your ability to take a knot. It’s an evaluation of your overall health. A lot of Omegas come to us in an injured state. All Doctor Taylor is going to do is administer a health-related exam. Not a knotting exam.”
“Oh.” I swallow, my brow furrowing. “Okay…”
“You sound uncertain.”
“Well, yes. I… I’ve been told by other Omegas about the evaluations, and they never mentioned health-related exams?
” It comes out as a question because I’m still not sure what that means.
I’m a hybrid wolf-dragon mix. I don’t really get hurt.
What’s the point of evaluating my health? “Do you mean fertility?”
That would make more sense.
Or… or something to do with… with labs.
Oh, moons. Maybe—
“No. I mean your actual health,” he interjects before my mind can wander. “Your physical and mental health, Taliana.”
I blink at him. Mental health? “You think there’s something mentally wrong with me?”
Because he can sense my hybrid state? I wonder, swallowing.
He chuckles. “No. Actually, I think you’re quite refreshing, little diamond. But as I said, we take in a lot of Omegas in various states of distress. So our doctors typically evaluate each case to determine if any medical intervention is needed.”
“Various states of distress,” I repeat out loud. That isn’t exactly how he phrased it before. But the word choice doesn’t really matter. All I want to know is “What exactly does that mean?”
He considers me for a moment. “I tell you what—I’m going to go get Doctor Taylor, who is a Beta female, by the way, not an Alpha with a knot. And you can ask her that question. I think she would be better suited to explain our arrangements here in Gold Sector.”
I… I don’t know how to respond to that. Because it just provokes more questions.
A Beta female doctor?
What do you mean by arrangements?
“Can I introduce you to Doctor Taylor?” he presses when I don’t respond.
“Um, yes?”
He frowns. “That doesn’t sound very certain, Taliana.”
“I don’t feel very certain about anything right now, Oros,” I retort. Then wince when I realize I’m misbehaving again. “Sorry, Alpha. I—”
“An apology isn’t needed,” he says, cutting me off. “I like your sass, Omega. It’s far more interesting than your submission. At least, in terms of conversation.” He winks at me while I gape at him, then steps away. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
The door shuts before I can comment.
I sit up, causing the cloak to fall to my lap. “What a strange Alpha,” I whisper to myself. “A very strange, very good-looking Alpha guardian.”
Whatever that means, I think, swallowing as I study the door.
I hope it means he intends to stay close to me while I’m here.
Because I already miss his scent.
An interesting realization, given that I barely know him. But he placated my wolf.
And I very much want to experience that sensation again soon.