Page 49 of Abel's Omega
“Why?” Bax’s hand was tense against his flesh. Anticipation, or fear?
Only one way to find out. “Because you were here.”
Bax stopped dead at the edge of the clearing. “Oh, no. No, please don’t.” His face crumpled and he looked away, though he didn’t take his hand off Abel’s arm.
“Can you tell me why?”
Bax glanced around, and Abel realized immediately that this was absolutely the wrong place to have this conversation. “Come on, I know someplace that should be pretty quiet.” He took Bax’s hand and led him out of the crowd and into the trees, following a path that only existed in his mind until he came to the bower with the pond. The moon lit the clearing, limning everything in sharp-edged shadow. He turned so they were facing each other.
“No one will come looking for us here. At least, not until the lovers’ dances finish later.” Then it was first come, first served for one of the most romantic spots in the enclave. “Now, tell me why I shouldn’t want to spend time with you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
My heart pounded in my chest. “I don’t want to hate you.” He wasn’t expecting that, but I couldn’t be anything but truthful. He deserved better of me. “I don’t want to mate someone I could…” I couldn’t say the words. It would make them too real.
“You could what?” He stepped closer and I backed up.
“Please don’t.” I knew I shouldn’t have danced with him. All it did was add fuel to the fire of my fantasies, and give him the idea that there was hope. But really, what would happen if I agreed to mate him? He was young. Vigorous. He’d want pups. I suppose I could give him the pups easily enough, but it was getting them on me that made me sick with both desire and memory. Every time he touched me, it lit a fire in me, just as quickly extinguished by my knowledge of what encouraging him would lead to. It would be easier to mate a delta wolf, or even another alpha. Just not someone I had—feelings—for.
“At least tell me what I did wrong?” His voice was strong and reassuring, and I yearned to give myself over to him, to put my cares in his hands and watch him unravel those Gordian knots. But I wasn’t selfish, or I tried not to be. And anything we ever had together would always be poisoned by the seeds of my past.
“Nothing. It really isn’t you. I can’t do that to you.” Greatly daring, I rested my fingertips against his cheek, and fought the tears that simple touch brought forth. I was going to miss him, his faith in me, the calm simple way he engaged with the pups, his stories about growing up Mercy Hills. His dreams of the future.
I took my hand back and bit my knuckle for the relief of a pain I could do something about.
“Can’t do what to me? I think it’s for me to decide.” He raised his free hand, just a little too fast for my over-stressed nervous system.
My body took over and I hit the ground before my brain had time to recognize what had triggered it. We stared at each other, me with my free arm bent to protect my face, him with a look of painful comprehension on his.
“Fuck.” He let go of my hand and sat on the ground beside me. “I’m sorry. I guessed, but I didn’t know.”
“I never told anyone.” I pushed myself shakily up onto my hip, then swung my legs around and sat up straight. My body shook and I wanted to cry. To cry on Abel’s shoulder and have him tell me it would be all right. But that wouldn’t be fair. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” I tried a smile on him, but I could tell he wasn’t buying it.
“Did he hit you often?”
His calm attention was almost as soothing as a hug would be. I pulled my knees up to my chest and hugged my shins. “No. And I expect you’ll think I’m lying, but honestly, it was only at the beginning.” I rubbed at my cheek and sniffed. “And really, I pushed things a lot. I didn’t want to be there, where I didn’t know anyone, and I was even less a person than I had been in Buffalo Gap. It was hard to lose even the little—respect, I guess?—that I’d had there. So, yeah, I did things.”
“And I’m here pushing you.”
I shrugged. “It’s not your fault.”
“I feel like it is. I should have—” He broke off, his hands lying limp in his lap, and I realized then how much he truly believed that he was to blame.
“You couldn’t have known, unless you were there.” I put a hand on his knee, and waited with bated breath for either my reaction or his. When neither of us did anything, I continued. “Most of it happened indoors. He made it clear right at the beginning that he was in charge, and my job was to look after him and the pups he’d get on me, and as long as he was happy, I would be happy. He wasn’t unreasonable.”
“It’s always unreasonable if you have to hit someone to get them to do what you want.” He stared at my hand on his knee, and I withdrew it. His hand twitched, as if he’d wanted to reach after me, but had restrained himself.
I wasn’t sure what I thought about that. Then again, I was never sure of anything around him, except I wanted him, and I was afraid to fail him.
Abel rubbed his hands down his thighs, as if the movement helped him think. “What do you want? What can I do to help you?”
I started to laugh, though it was halfway to being sobs. “Oh, Abel, I know what you were doing tonight with that dance. And I want you, I do. But I’m scared, scared, scared, terrified. I see you and I want to kiss you and touch you and something in my body is convinced that the bedroom would be different with you, but I’m so scared. What if I couldn’t bring myself to… why would I do that to you?” The last words were said in a choked whisper and I bowed my head and squeezed my fists tight enough the knuckles turned white. “What’s the point of an omega you can’t fuck?” I whispered in shame.
His fingers tangled in my curls and he turned my face up into the moonlight.
“I could say silly omega, but I imagine you’ve heard that a million times and it’s not what I really think. Can we make a deal?”
“What sort of deal?” My heart leapt up into my throat, fear and hope and an agony of indecision choking off my breath.
