Chapter 8
SELENE
The itch abates—for now. But each time Harry has “assisted” me, it’s come back worse. Meaner. Stronger.
I need something more. It felt incredible, what he did, but just his fingers are not enough.
Only for a moment did I catch sight of his, erm, member once he tucked himself back into his pants. That, I think, would do the trick. If he slid that thing inside me, I’d be fixed.
But wouldn’t he have done it already if he wanted that?
He’s merely helping me, sacrificing his own wants to make sure I get through this.
I know I’m taking advantage of him and his earnest heart, his good nature.
He came to my aid when I escaped Father’s house, and he’s doing the same now without any concern for himself.
This knowledge haunts me as Harry departs the house, telling me he’s requesting the day off. I know he hasn’t slept much, and I’m wracked with guilt that he’ll be missing a day of work because of my heat.
It’s days like today that I wish I weren’t me. That I had never been born an omega, so that none of this would have happened.
I’m feeling fragile when Harry returns an hour later, telling me his captain granted the request and so he’s going to go into town for supplies.
I don’t know what sort of supplies he means, but he gives me one last long, lingering look before he departs with Sadie, leaving me alone for the afternoon.
Only an hour or two of peace goes by before that itch comes back. I frantically rub myself, wishing it would help, that anything could take away this paralyzing need.
Then the front door opens, and I push my nightgown back down. It’s Harry, and he’s carrying two bags as he walks inside. He smiles when he peeks into the bedroom.
“I have some things.”
I don’t know what sort of things he means until he produces a beautiful sheepskin blanket, which he carries over and deposits in my nest.
“Perhaps this will help?” he says hopefully.
If I didn’t already feel like I was going to cry, this does the trick. It’s so thoughtful, so lovely and probably expensive that tears burst free, sliding in great rivers down my cheeks. Harry’s mouth falls open.
“Are you alright?” he asks, leaning down to get a closer look.
“You didn’t have to do this for me.” I clutch the blanket tight against me, reveling in the softness of it. It’s exactly what my nest needed. “How did you know?”
His smile returns. “It was just a guess.”
Then he turns around and leaves me with the blanket as I arrange it in the right place. This time, when he comes back, Harry is holding something behind his back.
“I didn’t know… if maybe…” He clears his throat. “This might do the trick?”
I tilt my head, wondering what he’s got that he’s afraid to show me. Eventually, though, he brings one arm out in front of him to display the object he’s carrying.
I blink at it, not sure what I’m seeing. It looks like a penis, with a thick bulb at the base, but blown from clear and blue glass.
But why is it here? Why has he brought it to me?
“I thought I would, erm, put it inside you,” Harry says awkwardly. “And maybe it will be what you need.”
I stare at him for a moment longer before I finally understand.
He does not want to do this himself. As much as I long for him to use his cock on me, to get on top of me and fill me up, that’s not what he wants.
Instead, he has brought me this facsimile. A tool to help dispel my heat.
Instinctively, I shrink back into my nest. I don’t want a cold piece of glass inside me. No, I want him, and this is nothing but an ugly reminder of what I can’t have.
“Selene?” Harry asks, stepping closer with the phallus in his hand. “What’s wrong?”
I’m crying again, as hard as I try to make it stop. But now any hope I had is shattered.
Harry doesn’t want me the way I want him. Not at all. He’s willing to go out and buy a stand-in so he doesn’t have to do it.
“Please take it away,” I manage to say between hiccuping sobs, waving a hand at it.
Harry glances down at the glass phallus in his hand, then back at me, brows furrowed in confusion. He tucks it behind him again, hiding it from sight.
“What is it?” he asks, coming closer. I shrink back even more because the last thing I want is his pity on top of it all. “I’m not going to hurt you with it. I’m trying to help.”
I don’t even have words to describe how I feel—the disappointment, the rejection. I know it was entitled of me, foolish of me, to hope. To want. To crave.
Harry will never reciprocate my feelings for him. I know that now, but the reality of it is crushing.
“Please,” I finally manage to say, and point at the door. His eyebrows fly high on his forehead. “I need to be alone. I don’t…”
I can’t even say the rest. I don’t want to see it. I want to pretend this never happened. Let me live in the false world where you want me like I want you.
Harry searches my face until I turn it away. Then, he shakes his head and retreats from the room, and I know I am a worthless, ungrateful beast. He is trying to help the only way he knows how.
It’s not his fault that he doesn’t desire me, and I shouldn’t punish him, but I can’t stand to see his wonderful face right now. So I get up and close the door behind him.
HAROLD
I still don’t know what went wrong.
I thought the dildo would be the perfect thing to help Selene through this. She needs an alpha’s knot, which I can’t provide for her. Even if I could… it would be wrong to take advantage of her in such a precarious position. She can’t help her body’s needs.
But somehow, this was all a phenomenally poor choice on my part. Selene pushes the door shut behind me, and then on the other side, I hear her crying begin anew.
What have I done?
I sit outside with Sadie, studying the dildo before I decide to toss it with the trash. I don’t think the glassmaker will want it back.
At least the blanket was well-received. That was the one good thing I did before, somehow, I ruined everything.
Selene doesn’t emerge from the bedroom for many more hours, so I begin cooking dinner. Of course, I prepare it with lots of butter, but still, she doesn’t come out.
“Selene, would you like to eat?” I say at the door.
“Yes. Sorry.” I hear her pad across the room to the knob, which she turns as she opens it. Her face is pink, her eyes spiderwebbed with red. She walks past me to the dining room table, where I serve beef stew with fresh bread.
Selene eats in silence, so I do too, unsure of what to say. When she’s finished, she gathers up the dishes and takes everything to the tub out back to be cleaned. I sit at the table, ruminating.
I wish I could fix what I’ve done.
In the middle of the night, I awaken to the sound of Selene keening. I hurry getting out of bed, then come to the door of the bedroom. She’s in her nest, curled up in a ball, touching herself with what I can only describe as desperation.
I get into the nest with her, and she opens her eyes. There’s fear there, despair.
“What if it never stops?” she asks.
“It will pass. We just have to get through it.”
She nods in defeat. Then she turns her head away as I take over with my hand between her legs, rubbing her clit in gentle strokes.
“Harder,” she says between her teeth. “Please.”
I do as she asks, applying more pressure. Though her moans are painfully erotic to my ears, and my cock is already stiff under my trousers, I focus solely on pleasuring her. When I rearrange myself so I can attend to her with my mouth, Selene’s eyes fly open.
“You don’t have to do that.”
Selfishly I answer, “Yes, I do.” Even if I don’t get to have her, I need to taste her.
This time, I ravish her with my tongue. As I plunge two fingers into her, I manage to squeeze in a third, hoping that maybe it will help. She bucks and moans, but there’s a misery even in her pleasure that makes me go flaccid again.
When she finishes, it is with a gush that covers my lips and tongue. I drink her up, and once more, I feel that odd tingling sensation in my groin.
Selene sniffles when I pull away.
“Thank you, Harry,” she says, and finally, she looks into my eyes. “I want you to know how grateful I am for you. I’m sorry that I burdened you like this.”
I frown at her, not sure where this is coming from. “It’s not a burden. I want you to feel well again.”
She just sighs, then nods and lies down in her nest, pulling up her new sheepskin blanket to cover herself. I look over her one last time, curled up in that blanket, and wish I could do anything to truly ease her pain.
Smoothing back some of her hair, I draw away, then see myself out of the room for the rest of the night.
When I get to work the following evening, I’m worn out from my schedule moving to and fro. I helped Selene one more time this afternoon and didn’t think to wash before coming. I know that’s a mistake the moment the other two guards in the room—Greld and Stellan—stand and turn to stare at me.
“What’s that scent?” asks Stellan in wonder. “Whoa. You smell like a girl, Harry.”
Greld snickers. “He has one at home now. Doncha, Harry?”
I grimace as I set my bag down. “I don’t think it’s much of your business.”
At that, Stellan hoots. “So defensive!”
“He’s got it bad,” agrees Greld, smirking at me. “And it smells like a really pretty lady, at that.”
“I’ve got a job to do,” I say, putting my bag in my locker and my keys in my pocket. I grab my musket and scabbard off the wall, then put them on, too.
Stellan waves at me as I head out the door. “Invite us to the wedding!”
As I stalk away from the guardhouse, there’s a tingle of dread at the base of my spine.