Chapter Thirteen
Ziam
The next morning, I awake in Ati’s bed, Lux curled up on his other side. He hadn’t said anything last night, but I could tell he took Octavia not inviting us into the nest hard. So we had silently trailed him to his room and climbed into bed to comfort him with our presence.
I yawn, dropping my tail off the bed to stretch it. I should see if I can slip away and start breakfast without waking anyone.
But as soon as I start to roll away from Ati’s body, he grumbles sleepily and drops his arm over his eyes.
“Zee,” his voice is rough, and it makes my heart melt a little. “Come back.”
I chuckle. “Only if you suck my cock.”
I can see his grin from under his arm. “Mmm, I don’t know, I was hoping to make a Zee sandwich with Lux.”
Lux, apparently awake, rumbles, “Let me get my mechacock.”
I laugh. “I was going to make breakfast for our pack.”
She’s rolled and is digging in the desk near the bed. “Won’t take me long, love.”
Atiox reaches out and snatches my tail, tugging me back into bed as I laugh.
WELL, LUX WAS CORRECT; it did not take long. I leave them curled up together and hurry to the kitchen. I want to get some rytryl eggs started. But as I step into the kitchen, light-hearted and enjoying the sound of the kexai singing, I freeze.
Our omega stands, two cabinets open, head tilted upward as she studies the contents. Her tiny, odd five-toed feet are bare on the stone floor, and she’s in Ati’s shirt, looking like a kit playing dress-up in her parent’s clothes.
Tenderness fills me as I take her in. I just want to love and care for her. And fill her with my seed, of course.
I do not envy Lux and her designation of training and managing our omega’s behavior.
An alien, whose people have not known of intelligent life for very long, and far from her home.
She certainly will not take discipline like an omega raised in a society with a pack structure, who have been in contact with other planets for generations.
And our omega in particular seems... fragile, perhaps.
Or perhaps all alphas feel such about their little mates.
Octavia’s shiny, short, yellow hair is in disarray, as though she had tossed and turned a lot last night. I frown and open my mouth, but at that moment, she closes the cupboard, and spots me.
“Jesus Matthew Fredrick Christ!” she yells, hand going to her chest.
“I’m sorry, omega,” I say, my purr kicking up as I try to appease her, but I frown. “I do not understand these words.”
She waves her hand, and her large breasts sway. I snap my eyes back up to hers quickly, lest I seem like an alpha in rut. She says dismissively, “It’s just... like a curse word.” Her face relaxes and her look turns intrigued. “Do you guys say ‘fuck’?” she asks.
I nod, “Yes, as a euphemism for sex and an expletive."
“Yeah,” she nods, “Like that.”
“Well...” I ponder this, wondering who those four people are and what they did that their names are now curses, “I apologize for frightening you. I had hoped to have a morning meal ready for you before you woke.”
She shrugs. “I’m an early riser, especially after...” she trails off and turns, “Anyway where do you guys keep the coffee?”
I chuckle. “I heard from the other human omegas how important it was for most humans to have their morning juice, so I bartered my purple bittercress pie recipe for a large supply of the seeds.”
I open a lower cabinet and pull out the jar of coffee seeds and the equipment that I had received as well. “But,” I continue, “I fear you might need to teach me.” I smile and arch an eyebrow.
I do not need her to. But I want her to.
Her rich eyes study me for a moment, but I can see the nervousness fading. It takes everything in me not to start purring for her, to tell her what a good, brave omega she is. I’m not sure she’s ready for that.
“Alright, Ziam,” she murmurs, then turns. “That’s the grinder, you need to put some seeds—I mean, beans—in it and crank the handle. I’ll get the espresso pot ready.”
I follow her directions as I watch her covertly. She rinses the pot in the sink and fills the bottom, placing it on the stove.
“Now what?” I ask guilelessly. She comes and takes the grinder from me carefully, twisting off the top and pouring the ground beans into the pot before screwing the lid on. She studies the dials of the stove for a moment. But her head shakes and she says, “I can’t read these.”
I step nearer to her and rotate the burner we need on. “Low or high?” I ask, pointing to the markings.
“High,” she responds.
“We have translator glasses, if you’d like,” I offer offhandedly.
“Oh, cool!” she says, the first real spark of interest I’ve seen from her. My alpha preens internally. “Definitely!”
“They are in the library, I will get them for you later.” I nod.
“Now, what do you like to eat? You enjoyed the toast yesterday but I need more options of meals to feed you. I studied my manual carefully and know there are only a few foods here on Celnoe that are poisonous to humans. They have all been removed from the larder and cold storage.”
She blinks her enchantingly brown eyes up at me. “Oh. Um. Thanks.” Her words are stilted. She puts her palms together and twines her fingers. As I study her hands, she continues, “I don’t know that you guys have pizza. Or spaghetti.”
I frown. “Neither translate. But after breakfast, I want you to describe them for me.” I nod, set on recreating both meals for her. “Will eggs and toast do for this meal?”
She lets out a tiny, high-pitched laugh, and I grin at the happy sound. “Yes,” she says, “of course.”
“Sit, omega, I’ll bring you your coffee when it is done,” I say without thought as I turn to gather ingredients.
But instead of obeying, my little omega hesitates, an odd look on her face. I frown, closing the cooling unit and crossing to her.
Lux and Ati said we’d do this our way. Her way. The way our omega needs from us.
I stop close to her but without touching. “What is wrong, Octavia?”
She takes a deep breath before answering in a near-whisper, “I dislike being ordered around. Because...” her words trail off.
I ache to take her in my arms. To pull her to me and soothe her worries and fears. I clench my hands tightly at my sides, forcing myself to stay still. “Because of what?”
She shrugs, mouth parting, but just then, Lux and Atiox enter the kitchen. Both have the mussed and satisfied look of well-pleased alphas. Octavia’s eyes drop to Ati’s nipple piercings. I bite down a grin despite our serious conversation that was interrupted.
“Mmm, my loves,” Ati rumbles in his sweet way, “have you eaten?”
“Sadly, no,” I deadpan.
Lux snorts. “You have options now, Ziam,” she responds.
Our eyes all flick to Octavia who, after a beat, blushes as she catches our meaning.
I clear my throat to save her the embarrassment, “I was going to make rytyl eggs and hyras toast.”
“Perfect, Zee,” Ati says, laying a quick kiss on the side of my head.
I nod and turn to the stove, grabbing the coffee. I set out four mugs, including Octavia’s new tiny one, and split the dark, rich liquid between them, adding yellowhedge milk and glohas sweetener to top them off.
Lux delivers them as I get out pans.
“So, Octavia, how was the nest last night?” Ati asks in a light tone.
I force my face to remain neutral, even though I am standing at the stove and so my look is not visible to Octavia. Her behavior hurt Atiox. I dislike my aleron hurt. I am just as protective of him as he is of me. That is the beauty of a pack.
“Uh, fine,” she answers, voice tight.
I wonder if she can sense his emotions on this.
In yet another attempt to change the topic, I say, “Did you read your manual? Did it explain our pack structure, Octavia?” I toss a look over my shoulder at my pack. Her pretty face merely looks confused.
“Manual?”
“Yes, your introduction to Celnoe,” Lux says, sipping her coffee smoothly.
I turn, holding a plate piled with eggs, in time to see her head shake.
“I didn’t get anything?” she says, confused.
Ati growls and Octavia flinches.
Lux must see it too, for she starts to purr and extends her hand to cover Octavia’s where it sits on the table. My heart soars to see her allow it.
“That is unacceptable,” Ati responds. “I will contact the office.”
“Oh no, please don’t!” Octavia’s voice is nearly a plea. “I... I don’t want anyone to get into trouble.”
Atiox frowns. “The Earth office deserves it, sending you unprepared.”
Her head shakes hard enough for her short hair to shake, brushing her chin and upper neck. “No, it was probably the prison’s fault.” She freezes as soon as the words leave her mouth.
The silence sits around us for a long moment.
Finally, Ati’s voice is strained as he says, “This word translates as a place to keep criminals.”
Octavia’s face pinks, and she dips her head. “That’s right,” she whispers.
I snarl, fury rising inside me. My omega was locked in a cell? That is unacceptable.
But at my noise, Octavia’s shoulders rise, though her head falls more. “It...” she says quietly, “I did something that should have been done by our representatives. It was the right thing to do. No matter what the courts said.”
As I roll the meaning of her words around my head, Lux responds, “Sweet girl, whatever you did does not matter to us. You’re ours, and we’re yours.”
Octavia looks at her slowly, but I interrupt without intending to, “What did you do?”
Her large, nervous eyes flick to me, and I watch her take a calming breath. “I gave families, who were struggling to put food on their tables, more money.”
Again, I must work through her words, as several do not directly translate. The meaning hits.
“Oh! Your linen-and-cotton-economic system.”
“Wait,” Ati’s voice is low and dangerous, “Your society lets members go hungry?”
Octavia blinks. “Yours does not?”
“No!” all three of us blurt in outrage.
We sit in silence for several moments, all of us thinking things through.