Page 32 of Nanny Omega

Intrigued, Xander delved deeper into the site, eager to understand more about primal mate play. His gaze skimmed over the short description, and as he read, something within him stirred. Many of the behaviors described—the possessiveness, the instinctive need to mark his mate, claim, and protect—were things he had longed to do with his bond mate. He just hadn’t realized that other alphas shared the same primal urges.

Being a primal was about giving in to those deep-seated desires. And the greatest desire was to find a true mate, an impossibility since mates didn’t exist anymore. Instead, primal alphas sought fulfillment through playmates: omegas who shared their yearning for true mates. These omegas willingly signed up, hoping to be matched with a compatible alpha. Just as Shiva had said, compatibility was determined by scent or even the resonance of a voice.

“We’re here,” Hicks announced, jolting Xander from his thoughts. He blinked, momentarily disoriented. He had been so engrossed in what he was reading that the journey had slipped past unnoticed. With a deep breath, he shut off his connector and made his way out of the pod. As the door slid open, he turned to Hicks and said, “Did everything go well?”

Hicks quickly nodded. “The service omega will be here an hour before your heat as you requested.”

“Thank you,” Xander said. A sense of relief settled over him. He’d been sure Hicks wouldn’t find anyone—the odds were always slim. But if someone had agreed to come, at least his heat wouldn’t be a miserable, solitary ordeal. Xander hated spending his heats alone—the emptiness, the frustration—but sometimes it happened. This time, though… this time, he dared to hope things would go well.

As he moved through the house, Xander caught sight of Vina crossing from the sitting area to the cooking station. His gaze drifted toward the sitting area, the sudden need to see the Ersa almost overwhelming. Xander curled his fingers into fists, reminding himself that he had to stay on course—keep his distance from Ersa. He gave Vina a nod as he turned for the stairs.

Vina dipped her head in a respectful bow.

“Welcome back, Master,” she said smoothly, then added, as if reading his mind, “Ersa went to meet an old friend from the commune. He said he wouldn’t be long and would be back before Benjn woke up from his nap.”

Xander nodded. He took the stairs two at a time, his heart pounding. A strange, thrilling satisfaction coursed through him—the simple fact that Ersa had told Vina to tell him where he was going felt like the sweetest kind of submission, and it set something dangerous simmering inside him.

At the top of the stairs, Xander stopped, pressing his forehead against the cool wall. His breath came fast and shallow, the need to claim and possess rising like wildfire beneath his skin. He hummed low in his throat, trying to ride out the surge, willing it to ebb, but it only grew stronger. The sharp pulse of desire tingled along his spine, his muscles tensing as his body betrayed him. His cock stirred in his pants, and he bit back a curse.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. He didn’t need this—not now. He was barely holding on as it was.

With a heavy, frustrated sigh, Xander pushed off the wall, raking a hand through his hair as he made his way toward the door.

When he reached his office, he strode to his desk with the intention of burying himself in work, hoping the familiar routine would silence the emotions gnawing at him. But as he settled into his chair, his fingers hovering over the screen, the intricate design shimmering, his mind refused to engage.

Irritated with himself, Xander pulled out his connector and idly browsed through a few sites, his mind only half-engaged until he found himself back on the primal site. Curiosity tugged at him, compelling him to delve deeper into what it truly meant to have a playmate. As he scrolled, he reached a section displaying various symbols of claim—objects alphas used to symbolize their connection with their chosen omegas. His gaze snagged on one image, his breath catching slightly. With a flick of his fingers, he clicked on it, and the image expanded across his screen.

A thin collar around an omega’s neck gleamed in the soft glow of his screen. It was crafted from xynite, a rare and precious metal. Its dark sheen gleamed in the image, smooth and lustrous like polished marble. Xander’s chest tightened as he took in the intricate details of the chain that lay between the omega’s pecs to wrap around his waist. The chain links had tiny spikes that bit into the omega’s skin, as if an alpha had sunk his claws into him. Xander’s nails itched to lengthen into claws at the sight of the image. His eyes crawled over the omega’s torso, following the chain to his collared neck. The delicate engravings, the subtle strength of the design, were breathtaking. Xander twitched, an unfamiliar heat spreading through him as he imagined it encircling a certain omega’s throat. His mind went wild, supplying him with sneak peeks of the collar around Ersa’s neck and the chain dangling between his ample mounds, slightly hidden beneath his shirt.

Shit.Xander shook his head as if to dislodge the image from his mind. He forced himself to picture something else, envisioning the sleek collar encircling a faceless omega’s throat, but the image wavered, slipping through his grasp no matter how hard he tried to hold on to it. Frustration coiled in his chest as Ersa’s image filled his mind.

“I must be losing it,” he muttered, dropping his connector on the desk, and turned to the screen. Xander eyed his waste bot design, waiting for his creativity to kick in, but nothing happened.

With a sigh, he closed the file and opened a blank canvas, intending to start afresh. But as his fingers moved over the interface, sketching new lines and curves, his hand instinctively shaped something else—something intimate. It wasn’t as sensational as the collar. It was a wristband—a delicate, close-fit band. At its center was a small padlock clasp—a silent declaration of his possession, its key meant for only him.

Xander leaned in, excitement thrumming through his veins as he added more details to the design. His imagination ignited, sending a rush of energy through his veins. When he finally leaned back, the completed piece spun in a smooth, 360-degree rotation on the screen, stirring an unfamiliar warmth in his chest.

Then, as realization crashed over him, he let out a quiet curse and dropped his head onto the desk.

What the fuck was he doing?

He couldn’t give Ersa the wristband. He had no right to claim the omega—not in any way. And yet, here he was, crafting something that spoke of possession, of belonging. His fingers twitched, itching to delete the file, to erase the evidence of his foolishness.

But he couldn’t.

No. It wasn’t that he couldn’t delete it. He didn’t want to.

Because it feels good, Xander thought, softly groaning into the polished wood of his desk, lamenting his situation. He lifted his head and stared at the design longingly.

With a shake of his head, he shut down the wristband design and reopened his waste bot project, forcing himself to focus. Hours slipped by as he finalized his design, the glow of the screen casting long shadows across his desk. By the time he was done, half the night had passed. With a weary sigh, Xander pushed back his chair, the legs scraping softly against the floor. Exhaustion settled heavily on his shoulders as he made his way to his room. Though when he reached the room, instead of going to his bed, his feet carried him toward the nursery, his movements careful and quiet.

The soft glow of the night lamp cast long, gentle shadows across the room, bathing everything in a warm, golden haze. Xander’s eyes were drawn immediately to the small bed against the far wall. Still, he forced himself to walk to the crib first, his heart pounding as he peered down at Benjn. The tiny rise and fall of the cub’s chest was a comfort, and Xander lingered, brushing a light hand over the blanket. But his senses, his entire being, were attuned to something—someone—else.

The soft sound of breathing pulled his gaze toward the bed. The omega lay curled up, his face peaceful in sleep, his blond hair tousled and spread over the pillow. The faintest hint of his scent filled the room—warm, familiar, and utterly intoxicating. Xander’s muscles tensed with the effort to resist the pull of it. He stood there, still and silent, listening to the soft, steady rhythm of Ersa’s breath, his chest tightening with the ache of wanting something he knew he couldn’t have.

He forced himself to turn away but paused at the door, his fingers rolling into fists. He wanted to stay. God, he wanted to stay. But the sting of rejection was still a fresh wound, with a slow shake of his head, he walked out, closing the door softly behind him.

Chapter 10

---