Chapter 21
Morgaine wanted to pretend these compulsory meetings were tedious, but over the last few weeks they had become the best part of her day. Though it was still hard to look at the Alpha when he walked in, he moved slowly, as if not to scare her.
Or did he move at a snail’s pace to show of all that shiny skin to best advantage? She was beginning to suspect it was the latter. The giant lounged on his side, leg out, knee bent, exactly how he had lounged next to her in the sleeping pit before, after, and between bouts of sex. He licked his lips just like that after he had tasted her in places proper women didn’t speak of.
Why did he have to arrive practically naked?
A leather loincloth around one’s hips was not clothes. Heck, he’d had more on the first time she’d seen him on Esin’s awful ship. Yet day after day, Simin marched in with his chest gleaming and his hair a sleek waterfall of black pouring down his back. More than once he’d caught her staring, but who wouldn’t stare?
Diligent, she’d take his tray, keep her eyes on the food, and relax over time into playful conversation. He was a complete goof, purposefully goading her into laughter at every chance.
Nothing like Esin with his unsettling stares or Uriel’s demand for obedience. Simin never demanded anything, though he did ask for much.
First, he’d asked her to take the tray straight from his hands so he wouldn’t drop the ugly fur hanging over his arm. They had met a handful of days at that point, and he had tried nothing untoward beyond a few bawdy jokes that were funny enough to earn a stifled snort. But to come close enough to the line with him standing right there… It had taken him a good few minutes to coax her to reach out her hands just to take the tray. When she’d done it, she yanked it back, almost tripping on her feet to step out of his reach, and spilled a canister of water all over the flowers and sparkly rocks sprinkled around the dishes.
To say she’d felt incredibly foolish was an understatement. And Simin? He’d looked flat out alarmed. “I wasn’t going to try to grab you.”
She’d sat down on her rump, plopped the tray on the floor, and put her head in her hands. It wasn’t tears that came; it was a feeling of failure.
Taking himself several hasty steps back, the Alpha asked, “Are you okay? Should I leave?”
Even Etaine, who always stood as their translator, broke protocol and stepped forward. “Give yourself a moment, Morgaine. Take a deep breath.”
Unable to lift her head from her hands, rubbing at her scalp as if that might stop this fugitive panic and make her normal again, Morgaine whispered, “I’ve ruined his food.”
The woman teased, “It probably tasted terrible to begin with.”
A slight chuckle and the tightness in her chest began to ease. “He must think I’m a complete lunatic.”
“Does it matter what he thinks?”
Yes. It did matter. He’d been polite, brought her food every day that he had made himself, and she had grabbed at it like an ungrateful crazy person. It mattered because he had not been trying to trick her. He had been trying to share.
Simin was not Esin. Nor was he Uriel. He was the man the others had given her to.
Her head felt as if it weighed more than a boulder, but Morgaine lifted her chin so she might at least look at the person she had offended. “I’m sorry I spoiled your effort.”
Etaine translated and the man shook his head. “I should not have pressed you to take the tray.” Holding out the fur slung over his arm, the same fur he had used to cover her with when he’d taken her into his possession, Simin said, “I thought you might want something more comfortable to sit on than the floor.”
Uncurling her legs, forcing herself to stand, Morgaine approached the golden line and held out trembling hands. Unable to make herself speak, she swallowed, felt the blood drain from her face, and waited.
When the Alpha approached to give it to her, he did so slowly, laying the fur across her arms and backing off without so much as a single touch on her skin.
It was softer than she remembered, pliable and silken. But just as ugly. Hideous even.
She hadn’t been able to eat that day, nor had she been capable of much conversation, but they had sat across from one another in easy silence. Every night since, she’d slept wrapped in that animal pelt, and every afternoon, she brought it to their meetings to sit upon.
And every damn day since, she made herself step forward and take the tray from him. Though it had taken at least a week before she’d been able to meet his eyes while doing it.
The smile he had given her... it put a little flip in her belly.
She’d even forgotten to back away once she’d had it in her hand. Morgaine just stood there, staring up at him.
Way up. He was extremely tall. Many times larger than her. And smiling as if he was the happiest man in the world just to stand there and hand her a tray.
She had not noticed how loud he purred until it saturated sweet words. “You look lovely today.”
Heavily accented but recognizable, he’d complimented her in her language. Morgaine had blushed bright red as if this were a courting man outside her cottage bearing flowers and a gift of smoked sweet meat. “Thank you.”
Then came the teasing “Aren’t you going to tell me I look pretty too?”
Giggling, giggling, Morgaine stepped back, tray secure in her hands, and went to her fur. “If you’re trying to be pretty, I’ll gladly sew you a dress. I’m not sure how you keep warm as it is.”
“I would gladly have you keep me warm, any way you choose.”
When she looked up, she found such heat in his eyes. Longing, hunger, desire, adoration. He looked at her just as he had that first time, only seeing it now didn’t send her heart thumping in fear. Nor did his impossibly deep voice. What had at first sounded like two mountains scraping together now reminded her more of a rumbling sea. Soothing, constant, even warm as he changed the subject and talked to her about…
What had he been talking about?
Several times she’d lost track, watching the subtle movements of his body, or the way the light might play off his chest. Lost in thought, Morgaine muttered, “Omega Superior told me I didn’t have to meet with you anymore if I did not want to… that I never have to cross the tiled line on the floor or leave these rooms… but I have come to every meeting.”
Arms crossed over his chest, head cocked to the side, and paying attention to every last nuance in conversation, Simin stated, “And you don’t know why.”
“I feel better with you than I do alone in my room.” Every word was true. Morgaine had struggled with thoughts of why for weeks. She had struggled with the very obvious fact that she was slowly growing to like him. “Maybe it’s the purr.”
Another one of those glorious smiles. “I’ll stop purring and you tell me if you still like being near me tomorrow.”
Endless hours of introspection… time she had in abundance here… had yielded nothing to solve the riddle. “I thought it was cologne… something you put on your skin. You don’t smell like other males.”
Seemingly unconcerned, Simin had shrugged into his lounge. A great big, lazy predator smirking as he said, “I won’t smell like other men to you.”
“That’s my point. You don’t smell like a man at all.” Realizing that her phrasing was slightly offensive, Morgaine amended, “You see, the fur scraps Uriel made me use in the sleeping pit stank of men. You smell like…” She stopped herself and bit her lip.
The wry cock of his eyebrow and twist in his lips didn’t exactly look appeased. “Like what?”
Unable to resist a coy jab, Morgaine’s eyes came alive. “Food. You smell like spice cake.” He pulled a face, making her laugh all the harder. “It’s a flattering comparison, I promise. At least, if you like spice cake.”
A voice like velvet, the Alpha returned, “I’ve always thought you smelled like sunshine.”
Warmth filled her cheeks and made her shy to look at him.
“I have a question for you, Morgaine.”
“Yes?”
“Tell me about your dress. Every day I see something new you’ve added to it.”
Even though she couldn’t make herself meet his eyes at that moment, she could feel the weight of his gaze. And knew why today of all days he asked. Over the weeks of their courtship, she’d crafted detail into the skirt, used colored thread to embellish the bodice and sleeves. Today there was something special in the sash around her middle.
Simin had noticed right away, his eyes alight when he first saw her. But he had bided his time before pointing out. “You are wearing green.”
“I made the dye from the seeds you delivered. There was enough so I might make the other Omegas a gift. This”—she began to untie the sash died the exact shade of the Heidron’s house colors—“I thought you might like.”
Just as he had offered the fur, Morgaine held out the strip of cloth.
The Alpha looked at it with a sigh, still lounging. “I cannot reach it, kor’yr.”
Cautious, she took a step, her foot landing closer to the golden line than she’d ever dared. Outstretched her arm fully, but still he did not raise his hand.
Simin waited for her to come to him.
“If I cross, I’m no longer safe.”
“You’re always safe with me.” Patient, determined, he tried to cast a new light on what they had shared. “I would only hurt you for your pleasure. I only bite so you know I’m yours.”
The words sent a chill over growing gooseflesh, Morgaine’s eyes on the male’s bared chest. The closer she crept, the more obvious his effect on her became. It was not just the way she inhaled deeply through her nose, it was her eyes. The blue was disappearing, being eaten up by a black pupil. “I’m not ready…”
There was a buzzing between her thighs, and he had not so much as laid a hand on her in weeks. As if he knew, the man drew in a deep breath, fought a groan. “Your estrous will arrive soon…”
Finding that she’d taken another step, that one whole foot was over the line, Morgaine blinked. Heart beating fast, the whoosh of blood in her ears almost louder than his purr, she said, “That is what they have told me.”
Voice low and suggestive, the lazing Alpha tried to coax her nearer. “What else have they told you?”
“That my first estrous might be difficult.” Unblinking, she met his gaze, completely enraptured. “But I’m not afraid of the pain. I’ve felt it so many times.” Another step, the golden line behind her now. “I’m afraid of you.”
“I don’t think you are afraid of me at all.” A gentle curl to his lips, a deeper purr was offered. When she edged even closer, he teased. “If you hold my hand now, you’ll see that I can be a lamb.”
Near enough to touch, the great, lounging male moved slowly as if to take the green sash, but instead, ran the back of his fingers up her arm. The Omega let out a breath, closing her eyes on a hum.
He dared to touch her loose hair, to tease the tendrils between his fingers. “And if you let me kiss you now, you’ll find that I do taste like spice cake—which I suspect you enjoy very much.”
The smell of slick was abundant and rich, wafting from the layers of Morgaine’s skirts. Breathless, she murmured, “You brought me here because you knew I was unhappy. You brought me here to this place where I feel safe, a place where you cannot take me away without my permission… and I want you to know that I am grateful.”
But he could take her away, because she had fully stepped over the golden line. But he didn’t do more than kneel at her feet and lightly play with her hair. “Then will you come home?”
In that moment, Morgaine was thoroughly tempted, licking her lips as if imagining licking the expanse of chest that—even with him kneeling—was close enough to kiss. When her eyes traveled downward to find the clear outline of his hard cock behind the leathers, she whimpered. It was not the whimper of fear.
“Please, kor’yr, come home. You don’t need estrous as an excuse to be cared for.”
Not yet. Laying the green sash over his shoulder, Morgaine asked her final question for the day. “Simin, tell me one thing the Omegas have yet to share. What does kor’yr mean?”
It was the first time she had spoken his name. The first time she had willingly touched him. The first time she had almost wished he’d carry her off and take the choice away.
Instead he spoke, eyes wide and full of love. “It means soulmate.”