Page 83 of Abel's Omega
“You were lonely.” Abel could hear it in Bax’s words.
“I suppose. I didn’t love him, but I felt something. I used to think about it a lot, trying to make sense of my life and find a way to live within it. I think omegas are made to love someone—I think it’s built into us and when we aren’t given a choice, we do the best we can.” He rolled off Abel’s body and sat up, his arms wrapped around his knees. “I’m not making much sense here.”
“No, I get it.” And he did. “I don’t fault you for trying to create some sort of relationship in your mating. And I’m sorry I told you I didn’t want to hear about Patrick. I just don’t like thinking about you being unhappy.” He ran a hand up Bax’s spine. “I’m angry at him, and a bit jealous, too.”
Bax turned, surprise widening his eyes. “Jealous? Why?”
Abel shrugged. “Now’s my time to say I’m not making much sense.” He pulled Bax back down on top of him and Bax came easily, gracefully molding himself to Abel’s side. “He had something wonderful, something I’m still coming to terms with my luck over, and he wasted his opportunity. And I feel guilty, because if Jackson-Jellystone hadn’t treated you the way they did, and made you so unhappy, we would never have met, and a part of me is glad that that happened. But yes, I resent that he mated you, and there are parts of your life I’ll never get to share with you because he got there first.”
“You get to share this with me. My first ever spring heat.” Bax sat up and threw a leg over Abel’s hips. He reached between them and sank down until Abel was buried deep inside him, riding him with a gleam of mischievous pleasure in his eyes. “Lots more firsts too. My first ever mating ceremony. My first real job—you’ve already had that one. My first ever chosen mate.” He leaned forward, his palm against Abel’s cheek, hips still rocking in that age-old dance of pleasure. “My first love.”
The intensity of Bax’s last three words took Abel’s breath away. “Mine too,” he managed to stammer out, then pushed all other thoughts but Bax aside and gleefully gave himself to his mate, as Bax gave himself to Abel.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
Abel had been right about everything. I was still sorting through my emotions but two things were certain—I was pregnant, and I’d never been happier.
The effect of the hormones had faded the next day, as they had every other time. And now it was the afternoon of my mating, and myself and my rozvennya—all the omegas that had come from Buffalo Gap, plus five provided by other packs, and Bram—were crowded into Holland’s apartment, across the hall from the one I had lived in until this morning. Abel’s brother Quin had arrived yesterday and taken over the project of moving all my possessions into Abel’s apartment today. Jason had the pups, for which I would forever be grateful. I couldn’t imagine trying to make it through the preparations today with the four of them underfoot.
The omegas were already dressed, in shades of green and brown and blue, what jewelry they owned gracing necks and wrists. It was mostly homemade, rawhide cords and hand-carved charms to dangle from them, but it was their best, and they looked lovely.
I would be wearing deep forest green, in part because it suited me, but also because it was the color of the plants that fed our prey and showed that I would ensure my pups would be fed. Loose pants and short boots, and a long-sleeved button-less shirt held closed by a belt made of woven leather were the total of the mating outfit. I’d lose the shirt during Abel’s vows, replaced by clothing he provided for me. My necklace from Patrick nestled in the hollow of my throat, and Cale, Holland’s younger brother, was fussing with my makeup.
“You know, I can do this myself,” I said, and had my hand smacked for moving.
“You’re mating the Mercy Hills Alpha. There’s a human reporter here, and Alphas from half the packs in the country are here to witness it. You have to look good. And, unlike the rest of us, you never really had to learn how to use this stuff.” He shot a shyly flirtatious glance at the human, and I wondered what I’d gotten myself into, because it was almost certain that the responsibility for keeping them all in line would fall to me, as Alpha’s Mate.
Thom grinned and, just on the edge of my vision, a flash of movement preceded the faint click of a photo being taken. I suppressed a sigh of frustration and composed myself while Cale ran a careful line of hair-thin eyeliner around the base of my eyelashes. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Thom lean back in his chair and glance around at the rest of the omegas in the room.
“So,” he said. “I overheard something earlier and I was hoping you could explain it.”
I flicked a glance at him, then rolled my eyes back up toward the ceiling so Cale wouldn’t jab me with the eyeliner pencil. “What?” I asked.
“Hush,” Cale said. “Don’t move.”
The reporter grinned. “Why, after all the negotiations your Alpha has gone through, do you have to offer him a dozen other choices?”
Holland and I stared at each other.
“It’s tradition,” Holland said slowly. “Political and family ties, power, all that. There’s always the hope that the Alpha will see another omega he likes better.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek, careful of the blusher that pinked my cheeks against my nervous pallor. “I’m not after your man.” He winked at me.
“Well, I am!” said Lavon, the omega from the Rathburn pack.
Holland and I both sent him a withering look, but he only grinned.
Honestly, some omegas have no class at all.
“It didn’t used to be,” Bram piped up, surprising us. He looked around in puzzlement at us all. “Garrick found a story that said it was originally to keep people from stealing the omega—he found an actual news story, not just stuff that people tell around the kitchen table.” He looked proud of his knowledge.
“Interesting,” the reporter said. “Why did it change?”
The rest of the group just stared at him dumbly. I thought I knew, but I wasn’t going to bring up the topic of the True Omegas. I’d been forced to accept that I was a mythological creature, but until we knew what itmeant, it had been agreed to keep my membership in Jason’s exclusive club a secret. At least, until I began to show. But I needed to say something. “Probably being moved into the enclaves. Like now, if a wealthy Alpha mated, other packs would want to align with them. The gifts alone would be worth it. And since omegas have no value outside the home, the opportunity to shove your own omegas in front of an Alpha’s nose was something you couldn’t pass by.”
The reporter looked at me as if he knew I hadn’t told him the whole story, but I supposed reporters learned early on in their career to know when there was more to the tale than had been told. Whatever he thought, I wasn’t telling him anything else.
“Time to get you dressed,” Holland murmured in my ear.
I nodded and stood. My mating suit was laid out on Holland’s bed and he and Bram followed me into the bedroom. I gently but firmly closed the door in the faces of the rest of the omegas, and left them out of this little ritual. While I undressed, Bram set out the box of paints and then he and Holland spent nearly an hour carefully painting symbols for luck and fertility and happiness over my skin, in long undulating lines that traced the path of my blood through my body.
