Page 71 of Omega Untamed
The meeting with Tarin went far better than I could ever have imagined. He was ecstatic to see me healthy and alive. And to hear my story, which I only told him enough of to satisfy him.
The best thing for me was to see that in the time I’d been gone, Tarin had found the perfect bond mate for himself. I had worried he would be a bit broken-hearted over me—he’d done so much for me over the past couple years—but instead I saw he had his own Omega now, Alli, and he was very much in love with him.
It made everything easier on both of us. My conscience was cleared as I drove home to Bast, my love, my mate.
Frequent spankings. Lovemaking every night. I couldn’t have been happier.
A few months later, Bast and I welcomed our new child into the world. A little Alpha who looked just like him, and glowered more than he wailed. We named him Baski, a combination of both our names. And when Bast held him and kissed his downy head for the first time, I nearly cried.
The birth took a few painful hours. Bast was by my side the entire time, telling me I was brave. Brave? No Alpha had ever said that to me. I’d been called many things: arrogant, aggressive, slut, hole, but never that.
In a few months, our apartment became too small for our little family, so we moved to a house far from the city and Bast’s old job with Myre, far from the Trenches.
Bast went back to work in more of an investigative role, retiring from field work and undercover assignments.
I found I had an aptitude for art. Specifically, painting. Little Baski would sit and watch me struggle with learning how to paint leaves and flowers and little toy bears for our precious baby boy to hang in his room. Baski himself had a talent for finger painting that rivaled all others in his age group.
Our world had changed. Bast’s and mine. My hard-luck life had worn away to reveal in me a worthy Omega, a man who deserved love and a good life.
And Bast, my lover, my bond mate, my Daddy, the man I’d thought was so dark and bad, continued to wear his long, flapping coat and savor me with his dark, flat looks that made my mind soar and my cock hard. He tended to me patiently. He loved me more than his own life.
Bast. The bad Alpha who’d locked me away but given me a soda when I was most defeated. But he wasn’t bad. He’d rescued me and brought me back to life in more ways than I could count. He’d always been good. Always. And that would never change.
THE END
