Page 52 of Omega Untamed
“Ahh, yes. I’ve seen it a hundred times.”
“You have?” Now he seemed interested in my opinion. For once.
“Yes. It may be that he’s not angry, but it also means he’s not totally okay about the rejection.”
Bast blinked at me. I almost heard him ask what to do, but he kept silent.
“He knows you well, yes?” I asked.
Bast nodded.
“He knows you’re like this.” I squeezed his arm. “Pretty unapproachable to most, I would think.” I gave him a soft smile. “And private. You’re allowed to be that way. If he thinks it’s weird, too bad. He’s weird. Very weird. Very cold when he was questioning me, like I was nothing more than shit on his heel. He’d just find out where it came from, clean up the mess, and think no more about it. I was not a person. I was an annoyance.” I felt my heart beat harder. “He kept asking me the same questions like he was looking for different answers. He didn’t bother to really even look at me.”
A darkness seeped into my vision at the memory. I had known that was my last night on Earth. Myre had known. He didn’t care. The only one who’d cared was Bast. Bast may have struck me as aloof and closed in, but I’d known he wasn’t like the others the moment he’d handed me the glass of soda when I’d been locked up.
“He is an Alpha without a soul,” Bast half-whispered.
I blinked away my bad memories. Bast faced me now, his eyes more brown than black and smoothing at the edges, his firm jaw softening, strips of his dark hair hanging to the sides, not so neat after a long day, but so pretty where they reflected almost blue in the living room light.
“Then why in all the hells do you work for him?”
“One day I’ll tell you.” He kept his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “But please don’t ask me that question right now.”
Bast had secrets, of course. Why should I be surprised? I could surmise his reasoning all day. Perhaps he had debts from bad choices in his youth. Perhaps he was simply good at his job and found no better boss to work for. Whatever his reasons, I still trusted him. He had saved me. I could see he wasn’t a bad man. It was crystal clear despite his job and his dark demeanor.
“I won’t ask, then,” I replied. My face was so close to Bast’s, I could feel his breath on my nose and cheeks. Warm puffs of air. His tight chest rising and falling in his anxious state.
Was it all for fear of my safety? My heart felt like hot liquid at the thought. “I’m fine. I’m safe, thanks to you.”
His eyes closed, then opened again. Staring right into mine. Burnt amber. Deep and dark as newly turned earth. He said, his breath fluttering against my face, “I need to do better. If anything happened to you--”
“Why?” What was I to him? No one. A lowly street boy. An addict. Worthless.
In a matter of about two seconds, between one breath and the next, Bast stepped into the final space between us. His dark head bent. His hands came up as mine fell away, and he grasped me just below the shoulders. Then his lips were on mine, sudden and warm, at the same time unyielding but soft. His mouth on mine, still closed, embraced my whole body, that kiss was so encompassing. Along with his scent of burnt edges and sweetness, his tall body though not touching felt like it brushed up all over me as intense electrical flashes of pleasure zoomed through me from head to toe.
My impulse was to open to him in every way. Mouth, arms, mind, body. Bend and go with it. Offer myself. But this wasn’t some quickie for a paycheck. This was Bast, all tight edges and controlled orbits of dark that contained him. Kept him organized and on point and it was how he had managed, with everything going against the result, to somehow make sure I lived despite the orders of a man who seemed to own all the streets in the city. And him.
Bast’s lips were hot just as I’d secretly imagined. His grip strong. His demeanor all-encompassing. I breathed him in, all smoke and amber, and held myself very still. My impulses didn’t necessarily rule my instincts, and my instinct told me to be patient. Go slow.
But I couldn’t help but think: What was this? An Alpha control thing? Or something more?
Something more. I had to believe it. He’d been worried the moment he’d walked through the door tonight. Afraid for more than just his job. Afraid for me.
When Bast pulled back, his eyes were two storms brewing. I wanted to be pulled in. At the same time, I braced myself.
“Don’t worry. It’s not the Burn.”
I nodded, licking my lips and tasting him spice-sweet upon them.
Bast’s lower lip trembled as I watched something pass over his face. Then he pushed by me, gently, and headed for the kitchen.
I turned and watched him, still hardly daring to breathe.
Finally, I followed him and stood in the kitchen door while I watched him prepare a sandwich.
“Want one?” he asked without looking up.
I had worked long hours in the bedroom finishing up the paint job. I was starving. “Yes.”
