Page 49 of The King's Omega
He went rigid for a moment, and then slumped. “More proof of my incompetence. I thought she had done so, but I didn’t check.”
I closed my eyes, wondering what this meant for him. I didn’t know much about mates, or bites. But I did know having an uneven bond was dangerous; my friends in the Sow had told dark tales about the terrible things that happened when only one mate had been bitten. I had a feeling it meant Selene held more power now. He could die and she would still live.
But not the other way around.
Still… “I’m glad you don’t wear her mark,” I whispered, not sure why I felt those words had to be spoken. The air filled with the faintest hint of pine when I did so, though.
Pine mixed with a hint of bitter oil.
After a moment, Rigol spoke. “My pride has always been my downfall. I ignored my advisors when they said war was coming. Thought I knew better that they did. I didn’t want it to be true, and I couldn’t believe the reports of why they were invading.”
“Why? Don’t they want land?”
“Well, yes,” he said. “Land and power, but the rumor was that there was an Omega in Rimholt.”
“Oh.” My heart started pounding. Could I be the reason for this entire war? It didn’t seem possible. I was nothing, just a servant. It had to be the kingdom’s riches they really wanted. Rigol kept speaking, and I tried to focus on his words.
“… and so, when it was here, and there was no way to win, I believed a lie. Well, what might have been a lie.”
I picked up the book. “The story in here?”
“You’re already reading that? Goddess, you’re a fast learner.”
“I can’t make out one section,” I said, and flipped pages to find the one I wanted. “It’s messy writing. The Battle of Beller…”
“Belgorn,” he said, and turned to the right page, reading. “‘Barbarian hoards overwhelmed the King’s forces. The Royal Omega Cyndil summoned the King and his Generals to her before the last battle. She received her lovers and gave them all her gifts. Each General, as well as the King, received the strength of ten and became invulnerable to swords or arrows. Their troops also received the gift of her presence through their leaders and gained courage and strength. Their eyes shone golden, and seeing this, the barbarians fled as they knew of the Goddess’s gifts and perceived they had gone against Her in their warring.’”
“That was why you thought I needed to mate you?”
“Yes, that and the seer who said… never mind.”
“Read it again, please?”
He did, and I frowned. “So, she wasn’t the queen. She was the Royal Omega? What’s that?” Rigol shrugged, closing the book. I had a lot of questions about that passage. What did it mean about receiving her lovers? How many lovers did a Royal Omega have? Was the king one of them? And how did the troops receive the gift of her presence, whatever that meant?
And why in the world would anyone look at me and think I had anything in common with some legendary Royal Whatever? It was silly to think I could be that important.
And terrifying if it turned out I was. I could barely read. I came from nothing. Even if I didn’t want to be with Rigol, if I said no…
“What if…” I cleared my throat. “What if it’s true? About the Omega’s gifts. I mean, I’m not certain I’m an Omega. But what if I am, and I could help Rimholt?”
He let out a mirthless laugh. “I love my country, Vali, and I would sacrifice anything I have to save it. But you are one of my people, too. I can’t ask you to betray yourself. To give yourself to a vile king, a vile man, on the very slim chance that a fairytale might come true.” He sagged back in his chair.
“You’re not a vile man,” I said at last. “Not entirely.” I thought for a moment. He had been cruel to me for days but had given me so much—reading and signing lessons, and friendship—for weeks now. Maybe he had changed. “I can forgive you for… what you did. It was for Rimholt. You were trying to be a good king.”
“Thank you, Vali, but I don’t deserve your forgiveness. If, by some quirk of fate, we both survive the coming days, I’ll work to earn it, though. If you’ll let me.”
Maybe I had been wrong about both things. Maybe he wasn’t an evil man or a terrible king. Maybe he was just a broken one.
I wasn’t sure it was my job to fix him, though. “We’ll see,” I said at last and dug my fingers in again. He took a deep, shuddering breath. Feeling the tension in him, I started humming. No, not humming.
I was making a sound deep in my chest. The sound filled the room, washing over me, over Rigol, and I felt it thrumming through my fingers into him.
Healing him.
“Are you purring for me, little one?” Rigol’s voice was low and rough. I stopped, and he reached around, gently clasping my hand with his. His fingers were long and strong, with little healed nicks from his weapons training. “Don’t stop, please.”
I started again, feeling heat creeping along my limbs as I did. The tone of my purr changed, revealing my attraction for him, my conflicted desire, my anger, frustration, and longing.
