Page 76 of The King's Omega
Axe’s hand, unmistakably larger and warm, stroked my stomach, and his mouth moved on mine, pressing gentle kisses against my lips. Then he was gone.
I didn’t want him to leave. I opened my eyes to a peculiar golden light flickering throughout the room.
“What’s that?” I asked, trying to follow the flares of gold.
“It’s you, little thief.”
Tarn! My gaze snapped to him, and the golden light painted him, too. I tried to sit up and focus on him, on his injuries, but realized Lorn was lying across my chest.
“L-Lorn?” He was nibbling at my breast. Or… “What are you doing?”
His eyes shot to mine, and he licked his lips. His bruises and swollen eyes had vanished as though they had never been. “By the Goddess, your eyes are beautiful.”
Myeyes? He and Tarn were the ones with the lovely eyes; mine were just brown.
“By the Goddess, indeed,” Tarn agreed.
“Thanks,” I said, blinking at the strange golden glow that seemed to follow wherever I looked. “But what are you—” An odd sensation distracted me from the lights. Something warm and sticky trickled from my nipples.
I sat up, putting my hands to my breasts. “What is this?” I looked up to see if there was a leak in the ceiling. “Where is that coming from?”
Laughter rebounded off the cell walls. “It’s coming from you, little Omega. It’s one of the gifts.” Lorn lifted me up, running a finger across one nipple—which sent shocks of pleasure down to my core—then lapping up the golden honey. “You are a living miracle. Looks like your breasts give healing nectar now. I hope it’s all right that we all had some while you recovered.”
“Of course. You drank my… golden milk. Ew. That’s more than vaguely disgusting.” They both disagreed vociferously, but I grabbed a cloth from beside me and pressed it against my chest. Thank the Goddess it was stopping; I didn’t like the idea of leaking milk, no matter if it was magical or not. “Any other gifts? Better ones?” Less embarrassing, I hoped.
Axe stepped closer. He was healthy again, too, and… “You’re not chained up!” Broken bits of metal littered the ground around him. “You got the gift of strength? How?”
“Well, given that none of the rest of us got that, we’re fairly certain it was the sex,” Tarn purred. “But it might have been this.” His hand stroked a sore spot on my shoulder that was also intensely pleasurable. I glanced down and found a bite mark—a large one—on my shoulder. The wounds weren’t scabbed, however. They were golden scars, forming two perfect crescents.
I had heard stories about mating bites, but I’d never seen one. It was beautiful. Even looking at it made me feel treasured, like I belonged. To Axe. He had chosen me, marked me, and I would never be alone again. I fought back a surge of emotion. This was not the time to cry.
“Would you let me bite you, too, Peaches? Just a nibble?” Tarn teased. Or at least I thought he was teasing. His blue eyes gleamed with something that was more hunger than amusement. “I’ll bite you somewhere more private, if you like.”
His words made the liquid between my legs trickle out again. I sat up, embarrassed, and pressed the cloth there. Why was I leaking everywhere? “I’m so sorry, I need to—”
“It’s just your nectar, lass,” Lorn said, helping me back into my dress. “And while we would love to play some more—Goddess only knows what gifts we’d get from drinking it from the source—right now, we have to run.”
“Run?” No! We couldn’t leave. “I’ve got to heal Rigol!”
“Shhh.” Warm hands on my shoulders held me in place, Tarn’s sly eyes on mine. The golden haze was subsiding, and while he was still filthy, he was no longer dying. Or even injured. “Tarn, I was so worried!” I clasped him to me and felt him shudder.
“You saved me,” he murmured against my neck. “And now we have to hurry and save Rigol.”
“What’s happening? How much time—King Milian was going to make me mate him tonight.” Three angry growls sounded at that, one far deeper than the others.
“Axe?” I stepped toward him. His fresh wounds had vanished, and even some of his older scars seemed faded. “Are you truly healed?”
“Yes,” he signed. “My wounds are mended.”His eyes filled with warmth and something else. Love? I hoped so. He had said as much. I rubbed absently at the mating bite, stopping abruptly when my breasts began tingling again like I had primed an invisible pump.
My eyes traveled over Axe’s body, taking in every detail of his miraculous healing. I sighed when I saw his neck was no longer a mass of knotted tissue, but shiny pink slashes. His eyes answered my unspoken question.
“You still can’t talk,” I sighed. Whatever had taken Axe’s voice must have destroyed the delicate mechanisms that made speech possible. “It’s okay. You’ll play harp, and I’ll sing. I mostly know dirty songs, though, so don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
His smile was like the sun coming out after a storm. “The best kind of songs.”
“We must go now,” Lorn signed. I heard it then, running footsteps in the hallway.
Silently, Tarn and Lorn gathered up the things I had brought to the dungeon in the blanket, and all four of us squeezed through the doorway into the tunnel. Axe was almost too big, but he was strong enough to pull the door shut by himself.
