Page 17 of The Dragon's Omega

CHAPTER 6

Lianna

In my recent past, I had only ever seen life leave the ones I loved. From first diagnosis to death rattle, I watched my mom waste away. The light died in my dad’s eyes that day, and alcohol sapped whatever he had left.

And then Louis, going from his bed in the room next to mine to an ER gurney, then a long-term care ward. I watched his comatose physio sessions, read all about his daily feeding and hygiene regime. I saw my little brother fade, his complexion weak as a waning moon.

This was the first time I had ever experienced life flowing back into someone who made my heart dance—and it was… healing.

The second that thimble crowned his pinkie, Vidar changed. His nasty bruise healed. His skin tone settled from warm ivory to a rose beige. His tattoos didn’t multiply or anything, but they seemed darker in the torchlight, more prominent and set.

His body was already big, but now it seemed… bigger? I scoped every limb, every muscular ridge, every defined line. No, not bigger, per se, but thicker, more sculpted.

His cock soared to its full height and girth, hard and firm and thick, and my body burned white-hot making eye contact with the velvety head. Clearing my throat, sweating all over, I chose a safer spot and went for his face—only to find him looking at me. His hunter green was richer, brighter, fiercer. Jaw set, determined, Vidar suddenly sported long, luscious brown hair that had a healthy, glossy sheen. Even his beard seemed softer. He still had a wild look about him, like he belonged in the highlands in nothing but a kilt, but the wildest thing yet…

Before, Vidar had felt more alpha than any of the human kind I’d met, but now his presence hammered me so fiercely that it finally cut me off at the knees. I buckled and collapsed with a humiliating keening sound, bracing both hands on the cobblestone. He was everywhere, all around me, surrounding me, caging me, claiming me. His presence, his dominance, his attention fell like the might of a thousand suns across my body.

And I liked it.

Like the weighted blanket I saved for my worst days, the pressure felt good.

Smother me, Alpha. I can take it.

Wait. I winced. No, too much?—

“I’ve never brought anyone to my hoard before.” Even his voice sounded richer, luxe and otherworldly, his lilting accent more prominent. Hints of Scandinavia, maybe? I wasn’t exactly worldly or well-traveled, but California collected all kinds.

I slowly lifted my heavy head, cocking it. “Oh yeah?”

“A hoard is a dragon’s most sacred space,” Vidar rumbled. “More than claimed territory. More than a nest. It’s a piece of his very being, his soul.”

He sat up properly now, effortlessly, and leaned forward, his hard-on nudging his taut torso as he eyed me from beneath his brow. Desperate as I was for alpha attention in this fucking flash heat, the weight of his suddenly tickled my hackles.

I huffed a laugh. “We c-came here to heal you.” Every omega instinct in me wailed, like how dare I push back. Something about his intensity—it triggered a ridiculous need to break his focus, throw a wrench in whatever he was doing to my body. This dragon played it so effortlessly, and that coaxed my hackles higher. Another cramp hit as I tucked my hair behind my ear, on my knees, precariously balanced on one hand now. This time, the pain was gentle, but it unleashed so much slick that it came weeping out of me, heavy and obvious. “You brought me here out of n-necessity, I think.”

Vidar lunged and prowled toward me. Shoulders rippling, muscles working, he was physical perfection, the most graceful apex predator. He belonged in the Greek pantheon with the other gods, but the storm in his eyes had me thinking Viking now—all those tattoos, his long hair, the wild in his smile.

He stopped too close and not close enough, capturing my chin in his palm. I whimpered at the pressure, the way his fingers pressed into my cheeks.

“I brought you here because we are fated, matched, written in the stars.” He snarled the declaration, branded it forever on my heart. “Because you are mine, Lianna.” Vidar tugged me closer, forcing me to hold his gaze when I wanted to duck and bow and curl in on myself. Hide. Bask. It was a mess inside. “My omega. The only omega for me, as I am the only alpha for you.”

I held my breath as he scented me, dragging his nose along my face, across my temple and over my hair. When he came back, his pupils were blown, hunter green replaced with endless black.

“What’s mine is yours,” he whispered roughly, “and I take very good care of what is mine.”

My elbow wobbled, and if he wasn’t holding me, cradling my chin, I would have face-planted. Alphas had always been pretty words and purple prose. They talked in circles, always just missing the point.

Not Vidar. There was no gray with him. No need to read between the lines. Mine. My omega.

I swallowed hard, but the lump in my throat refused to budge. “It’s not just m-me feeling this way?—”

“No.” He didn’t shout or bark, but his voice rippled around us, echoing, bouncing off the walls, low and raspy and delicious. “I feel it. I crave it. You.” He stroked my lower lip with his thumb. “You pulled me from the dark, little omega. Tended to me in my lowest hour. Cared for me at my weakest. Faced a dragon without fear.”

A weak laugh bubbled up my throat. “Uh, I was a bit scared—a lot, at first, for the sake of full transparency.”

Vidar rumbled, his grin pure sunshine as he nuzzled his nose to mine, then pressed our foreheads together.

“But you faced your fear.” He drew a deep breath, then let it out with another rumble from deep in his chest, the sound affectionate but laced with something else. Something darker. Something that called to the rebel in me, to the monster desperately devouring the compliments that followed. “Brave girl. Fearless omega. Valkyrie. Goddess. Mine.”

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