Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 63709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“It’s a garden… inside the palace.”
“My mother spent most of her time here. She cultivated the moonflowers.” I pluck a tiny, purple-toned one from a nearby vine and tuck it behind her ear.
“It’s forbidden to pick the moonflowers,” Rose says.
“For all but the king. Or queen,” I add.
Her mouth snaps shut.
I wait a few moments while she looks her fill. “Do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful,” she admits.
“It’s yours. And there’s more.” I usher her onto a platform and call the whisps to carry us past the waterfall. There, in a secret grotto, is the queen’s study. It’s much like mine, with a large work table and chair, and heatstones built into the wall. A fire in the corner roars to life as we enter.
Living moss and hanging plants are woven into the walls. Rose pauses to absorb it all, her fingertips hovering inches away from the dark green leaves. “There must be specimens of every type of Ulfarri flora here,” she breathes.
I chuckle. “Not every type, but many. More importantly, this library holds mountains of rare knowledge and treatises on Omegas.” I wave a hand at the scrolls and books arranged neatly on their shelves. “I have borrowed some of them for my own study. The rest are here. I can teach you what I know of Omegas, but you might want to learn more on your own.”
“I can’t read Ulfarri.”
I frown. “You have a translator chip.”
“It doesn’t work on the written word.”
The Beta magicians who pulled the humans through the portal must have turned off some of the translator chips’ functions. Whoever ordered these Omegas must not have wanted them to read. “The chip should have visual functionality,” I say. “With your permission, I will have the whisps examine it while you sleep. If there is a simple way to modify it so you can read, they can do that.” The silence stretches between us until I offer, “Or, if you prefer, I can simply teach you to read our language.”
Her eyelashes flutter. Her scent mingles sweetly with the pervasive fragrance from the moonflowers. I can’t tell what she’s thinking. “You would do that?”
“It would be my honor.”
“Tell the whisps they can examine the chip. If they can't get it to work, then you can teach me.” She offers me a small smile. “I’d like to know more about being an Omega.”
I step close. I’m going deeper into rut, and can’t keep myself from touching her any longer. My hand goes to the back of her neck, kneading lightly. “In the meantime, I can tell you what I know.” My voice is gruff.
“All right,” she says.
“When an Omega goes into estrus, it can last for days. Weeks, even. Then it will fade for a time before returning—”
“Kind of like a period,” Rose interrupts me. “Humans have something similar,” she adds. “But not nearly as intense as this… thank god. Anyway, sorry. Please continue.”
“Thank you. As I was saying, the estrus cycles continue for the duration of an Omega’s fertile years, only stopping when she is successfully bred and gestating.”
“You mean pregnant?”
“Yes. But all our knowledge was collated before the birth rates dropped—not to mention, only Ulfarri Omegas were studied. There’s a good chance human Omegas—or those created by the serum—are different. It’s highly unlikely you’d already be pregnant after your first estrus.”
“Okay.” She sounds drowsy. I pull her into my arms before she sways to the floor. She’s so small. Even with her curls loose and swaying in a halo around her head, the tips don’t reach my chin.
“But it is possible for a human Omega to be bonded with an Alpha, and bear his offspring.” My heart pounds with excitement at the mere thought. “My darling little moonflower, I cannot wait to breed you.”
A tremor runs through her. Fear? Anticipation? Her scent thickens the air around us. My cock is throbbing—an insistent, dull ache. Leaning down, I rub my cheek over the top of her head, basking in her perfume.
“The nesting is a good sign,” I whisper into her ear.
“I should be freaking out right now. But I’m too relaxed. What does bonded mean?”
“A bond forms between an Omega and her Alpha mate when he claims her. The studies I saw were unclear about when exactly the bond forms—it can be a gradual process, or happen instantly, especially in a soul-bond—but most agree that the advent is the claiming bite.”
“Claiming bite?”
“Yes.” I trace the delicate skin of her neck. She shivers again. “As you know, an Alpha is not immune to an Omega’s scent when she’s in the throes of estrus. He responds to her by going into rut—the Alpha version of estrus. His first priority is to take his Omega—to rut her.”
“Mmm,” Rose murmurs dreamily.
“His next instinct is to claim her fully by biting her. To mark her as his, imbue her with his scent, to ward off competition. He can bite her anywhere on her body, and they will be bound for life.” I can’t prevent my voice from thickening as I describe it. There is no doubt that I want to claim my little moonflower, and that desire grows stronger every day. I came so close the other night…