Page 102 of The Sterling Acquisition
Orion should have protested. Should have maintained some distance, some barrier between them. Instead, he found himself curling into Dante’s warmth, his head resting in the hollow of Dante’s shoulder as if it belonged there. His body felt different—satiated in a way it never had before, a bone-deep contentment replacing the frantic need of his heat.
As his consciousness began to drift toward sleep, Orion realized that for the first time since his heat began, he felt truly warm—not the feverish burn of biology gone haywire, but the gentle warmth of being held by someone who genuinely cared.
“Rest,” Dante murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of Orion’s head. “I’ve got you.”
And for once, Orion allowed himself to believe it. Not because he was weak or defeated, but because he found someone worth trusting with his surrender.
Chapter thirty-five
Afternoon Awakening
Dante
Dantewoketogoldenlight filtering through unfamiliar curtains and the irrational conviction that nothing in the world could touch him here.
The thought was so foreign to twenty years of corporate paranoia that he should have been calculating threat assessments and extraction routes. Instead, he found himself cataloging the way afternoon sunlight caught in Orion’s hair and wondering when his brain decided that tactical awareness was less important than the steady rhythm of an Omega’s breathing against his chest.
Clearly, my judgment had been compromised by extended exposure to hostile pheromones,he told himself, which would have been more convincing if he felt even remotely concerned about it.
Orion was pressed against him like he belonged there, the constant tension that kept him coiled for fight or flight absent. It was the first time Dante had seen him truly relaxed, and something primitive responded with fierce satisfaction.
Mine.The thought surfaced with startling clarity, followed immediately by the observation that one night with a feral Omega undid two decades of corporate conditioning. Gensyn’s efficiency experts would have thoughts about that cost-benefit analysis.
He lifted his hand to stroke Orion’s hair, ostensibly checking for signs of distress but really just because the dark strands felt good against his fingers and the simple contact made his pulse steady in ways that had nothing to do with operational efficiency.
When Orion made a quiet sound and pressed closer, Dante felt his chest tighten with something that definitely wasn’t tactical assessment.
The bite mark on his neck throbbed—not painful, but hypersensitive in a way that made his skin tingle every time Orion breathed across it.Excellent,he thought dryly.I’ve developed a new erogenous zone.
Orion’s scent changed in the hours they had slept. Still carrying traces of heat, but without the desperate edge that had driven them both to the breaking point. Less volatile, more... settled. Which made no sense according to everything he knew about Omega biology, but then again, very little about his current situation would pass a corporate logic review.
The light suggested late afternoon—they’d slept for six or seven hours straight. Dante couldn’t remember the last time he slept so deeply without pharmaceutical assistance. His bio-monitor should have woken him at optimal intervals, should have tracked his sleep cycles, and delivered gentle stimulation to ensure peak performance.
Instead, he felt like he’d been drugged. Possibly by his own biochemistry, which was both ironic and oddly satisfying.
Speaking of which—
A low buzzing from his wrist indicated his bio-monitor was having some sort of electronic nervous breakdown. The display showed a cascade of warnings that would have triggered immediate medical intervention back in Gensyn territory.
ERROR: BASELINE DEVIATION
ERROR: HORMONAL ANOMALY
ERROR: SCENT SIGNATURE MISMATCH
ERROR: CARDIAC RHYTHM UNUSUAL
Well, that’s reassuring.Either the device was malfunctioning spectacularly, or his body had decided to stage a rebellion against corporate optimization. Given his recent life choices, the latter seemed disturbingly plausible.
According to the readings, his testosterone was fluctuating wildly, his cortisol was low, and his bonding hormones were spiking at levels that should have sent him straight to medical for emergency recalibration.
Yet physically, he felt... good. Better than good. The constant low-grade headache that accompanied rut suppression was gone. His body felt more responsive, morepresentthan it had in years.
I’ve been undone by one stubborn Omega with trust issues and a bite fetish.If that wasn’t proof that Gensyn’s behavioral modification programs had some serious flaws, he didn’t know what was.
Orion stirred against him, a soft sound escaping as consciousness returned. When he lifted his head, his eyes were unfocused with sleep, hair sticking up at odd angles that Dante’s hands itched to smooth down.
“Afternoon,” Dante said, surprised by how the simple greeting felt more significant than most corporate briefings.
