Chapter Eight
Atiox
Ziam curls the tiny kit in the crook of his arm as he lowers his horns for it to watch with its small, unfocused eyes.
“So, what, exactly, were you hoping to learn?” Inken, the ebondenn of pack Traex, asks, as she lays the other kit onto her chest. I see teeny-tiny, full-curl horns peeking out, but no tail emerging from its green sleeper.
I clear my throat. “Just more information on human omegas. We are... concerned... that we might be... ill-prepared...”
My voice trails off as Tristan, the father of the litter, comes in wearing loose, flowy clothes, his unusual red hair curly and short.
“Where are my twins?” he asks gently. His alpha quickly stands, gesturing to her spot on the couch.
When he is settled, she hands him the babe.
“Twins?” Lux asks.
Inken throws her a grin. “That’s what he calls the litter.”
The red haired omega makes an amused sound. “Twins. Two. If there were more, it’d be different.”
I smile at his easy manner. Hopefully, our omega will have a similar gentle demeanor.
OUR MEETING WITH TRAEX was short, given that the kits needed attention.
But spending time with them had been lovely.
The alphas had given us tips, to their omega’s pale skin turning disturbingly pink.
He had piped up with thoughts and opinions on what an Earthling would like to have at their new home.
Lux had taken detailed notes in one of her tiny notebooks.
For all her hard exterior, I knew she was dreaming of spoiling an omega.
We had walked the path home quietly. Ziam had curled his tail around mine firmly, while Lux had held hers high and back, indicating that she was on alert for threats so that we could relax.
I heard kexai calling to each other in the very tops of the glohas trees.
I made a mental note to reach out to the pack currently in charge of the sweetener operation and ask for our shifts to be moved out.
A pack receiving an omega is sacred. Time to bond is standard, and we intended to bond very well with our omega.
I couldn’t stop repeating her name in my head.
Octavia Steward. Omega Octavia Endral. I wonder what she will be like.
Tall for her kind? Or short? Curvy, like Pack Gathea’s omega?
Or do some of the human women tend to be more slender?
Even between Gathea and Traex’s omegas, there were skin color differences; surely they vary as widely as we do in the shades of flesh, but I ponder which direction they will run in.
Pinks and reds as is obvious in the male omega Tristan? Or...
My thoughts are interrupted by Zee as he coughs, probably to politely draw me out of my day dream. I look at him, smiling gently.
“Our omega has a chronic health condition that was mentioned in my paperwork.”
My stomach drops. She is ill? Unwell?
Before I can open my mouth however, Zee continues, “It is a condition she was born with and is apparently well-managed using an inhaled lung dialator. She simply needs to keep the medication on her person. However, my communications with several med units in Figate suggest that this condition is treatable with our technology.”
I nod as my heart slows. “Good, thank you, Ziam, for reaching out to them. Have them get her on their schedule. She should have the operation as soon as possible. After her first heat, though, of course.”
He nods, but Lux tuts. “Perhaps wait on that? We should discuss it with her.”
Her declaration is flat, and I bite my lip. She’s right; of course she is. Even if an omega is ours to protect, she is still her own being, with wants and desires.
I remind myself that I will need to treat her as an equal, as a pack mate in nearly all things. The only things an omega is expected to bow to their alphas regarding, is safety and health, and to see to our sexual needs.
An omega. An omega of our own, a sweet, willing, loving little human.
I simply cannot wait. Nor do I need to much longer. We have a transport awaiting us at our home to take us to the Concord Office in Citradoth.