***
“I feed her, heal her, pet her, wash her—I have given the Omega days on end of my company.” Simin stood stolid at the threshold of an unwelcoming portal, Morgaine wide-eyed, tense, and glued to his side. Before them, an old woman, one blocking the way forward even as Simin made his plea, did not so much as smile. “Omega Superior, I have knotted her so many times she has passed out. The stink of fear has not diminished. Her desire has not once urged her to reach for me in comfort. My kor’yr does not recognize me.”
The gatekeeper looked to the girl in question as she clung to his arm, and Simin knew she found more than the smell of anxiety hanging in the air. She saw the same broken look in cerulean blue eyes that he had. The golden-haired outsider was cloaked in a look of soul-dead hopelessness, cowering behind her Alpha as if to hide from one unknown female, yet terrified of them both.
Though small in stature as Omegas were, the elder female was large in presence. “A pair-bond will crush her misgivings and shape her affection to your will. Why bring her here when you are in full rut and she smells close to her time?”
To be questioned was not something a Heidron—a favored Omari Prince—was accustomed to. Nor were conversations of such private matters openly held in the halls of his squadron’s flagship. “She does not speak our language, was a virgin in captivity before I freed her. Upon her retrieval, repeatedly the Nierra referred to her as feral. I do not know what this means. I do know that she was beaten under their care for refusing.”
“Refusing what?”
“Male attention.”
Dressed in loose robes in the same style as Simin’s unhappy mate, the Omega Superior warned, “You take a risk in bringing her here still lacking a pair-bond, Heidron. Your rule does not extend past this door. The Omegas might not give her back to you.”
“Do not speak to me as if I were some pup!” The snap in his voice did not move the gray-haired woman blocking the portal, but behind the Alpha, his mate startled and made a horrible noise. Immediately increasing the already loud vibration resonating just to soothe her, Simin growled, “Her needs come before my own. I have tried and failed to reassure her. I cannot tolerate the smell of another male in my rooms, even to help translate. An Omega so near her nest at this point would be a threat to her. And even if I had the luxury of sharing our words, I do not think she will tell me the true way of things. Look at her; she’s frightened, even of you. I seek assistance. Return her to me smiling and eager to know her kor’yr, and the tithe I will offer in exchange will buy worlds.”
“Your riches mean nothing to us.” The woman offered a sardonic half grin, stepped back and swept her arm to the side. “But, by all means, lead her inside.”
Trouble began the instant they were through the unadorned door and a gallery of opulent color, of embroidered cushions, of laughter, of trays of rich food, and nothing but beautiful females came into view.
Morgaine began to lowly keen.
Simin’s foreign Omega began to frantically rattle off in her language, to plead in a tone that set the women in the room to their feet. Holding onto the Alpha’s arm, she dug in her heels in a sorry attempt to slow his steps, and then she fell to her knees, weeping so mournfully he did not know how to calm her.
Female arms clasped around bulky male thighs, sobbing, Morgaine refused to let him go. He had to pry her off, forced to ignore her terror, and leave her under the care of those Omegas who had rushed forward to help.
Morgaine began to scream.
He could do nothing for her now, not when there was a golden tiled mark on the floor designating how far an Alpha might tread in that sacred room. To cross that line meant instant death. The Omegas would kill him, whether he was their Heidron or no.
Unable to bear watching his mate be bodily dragged away, he turned his back, obeying the Omega Superior’s orders to leave at once.
Never had he imagined he’d see that old battle-axe startled.
***
There was no chance in the twelve hells that Simin would return to his rooms. He waited outside the door of the Omega sector for hours on end. At first, he’d heard his kor’yr screaming even through the thick metal portal. Caught up in the sound of her fear, he’d tried to get back in, to rush to her, but the females had wisely sealed the gate.
And then silence.
Even with his ear pressed to the door, he heard nothing.
A great warrior was to be patient, but for those hours waiting, he was anything but. Pacing, sitting, standing at attention—nothing helped.
He’d never expected Morgaine to respond as she had. Though he should have suspected when she was unimpressed, and then flat out shaking at his first offering of fine clothes. Clothes he’d had specially made in his family’s colors and crests. Clothes crafted from the finest silks and encrusted with gems worthy of a Heidron’s mate.
She had backed away from the folded green fabric, shaking her head, as if she knew he was dressing her only to take her away from the nest.
Flat out ignoring when he’d called her name, she’d started pointedly cleaning the nearest item she could reach… with her hair.
Gentle as he could be, he’d forced her to stop, dressed her, and took her straight to this place that left his mate broken and sobbing.
And now he could not even see her. Without the pair-bond, he could not feel her. Utterly at a loss, he felt an unprecedented stinging behind his eyes, and hung his head.
Then the door opened.
It was not his mate waiting for his attention, but a young Omega of rank—a translator by the marks on her robes.