Hand to his heart, insulted grimace on his face, he declared, “You wound me.”
He got an honest laugh out of her before Morgaine’s hands fisted in her skirts and she began to nervously chew her lip.
When the Omega stood, struck with indecision, Simin urged, “Take the tray. I’m not going to move from this spot. I’ll even scoot back if it will make you feel better, though we might have to shout to hear one another if I go much farther.”
Slowly inching forward, Morgaine made a grab for the tray, pulling it far enough on her side of the room that even with his great reach, Simin would never have been able to touch her. Mirroring his posture, she set a hip to the floor, legs tucked neatly under her skirt.
Watching as she wielded the provided spoon by the bowl, the Omega sawed off the top of the cake with the handle. Quick work was made of the sides as well, until the unburnt insides of his sorry attempt at baking were carved into a neat rectangle… that actually looked good. Al
most edible.
“So that’s the trick…”
“Baker’s insider secrets. I’m pretty good at burning cooking myself.” As she tidied up the plate and cast the burnt edges right atop a particularly large ruby, Morgaine explained. “My mother was the great cook.”
“Was?”
A golden head shook, Morgaine correcting herself. “Is.”
“You must miss her a great deal.”
Hackles raised on the Omega, playfulness morphing into distrustful sharp edges. “Is this some trick?”
“Tell me what she’s like?”
Bitterness bleached her expression into a blank slate of nothing. “She’s wonderful.”
Leaning back on an elbow, affecting his voice to keep it light, Simin prodded, “And?”
“And I don’t want to talk about her with you.” The snap was rude, it was loud, and across the room where Omegas lounged, several turned their heads.
Brushing off her temper, ignoring the spying women, Simin rolled a shoulder and teased, “I’m my mother’s favorite. All my brothers would disagree, my three sisters would as well, but I’m convinced. You might not realize this, but I’m extremely charming.”
Morgaine snorted, Simin grinning.
“My father found her on… oh, what was the name of the planet?” For the life of him he couldn’t remember. “Somewhere very cold. She led the opposing army. One look at her and he knew, took her right there on the battlefield amidst some very confused warriors who didn’t know if they should cheer on the show or keep trying to kill each other. Deep down, I’ve always suspected that was her strategy all along. Seduce and destroy. Now she is Empress to all Omari and doting mother to twelve, yes you heard me right, twelve children. Though I will remind you again, that I am the favorite. My father is a hard-ass son of a bitch, but he adores her to an embarrassing degree.”
His Omega looked stricken, lashes already brimming with unspilt tears. “He raped her before her people?”
Clearing his throat, Simin eyeballed his nails. “The way Mama tells the story, she ran right for him, knives in hand to tear at his leathers. Had him naked and on his back in three seconds flat. Rode him right there on the battlefield for all to see.”
First the girl was horrified, then she was confused, and then it seemed to dawn on her what ‘rode’ might mean. “You’re teasing me.”
“Nope.” That charming grin was back. “Every word is true, though from the look on our scandalized translator’s face, she’s never heard how their romance began. Now, twelve children later, I think it’s safe to say they are both very pleased with the outcome of that battle.”
Reaching down for a crumble of his cake, Morgaine took a bite. Sighing she muttered, “I always wanted brothers and sisters.”
Eager to hear more, Simin turned his eyes from his nails to lay them upon the most perfect Omega that ever existed. “You’re an only child?”
“Of course. I’m Alpha born. My mother was shunned for carrying me.”
What? That made no sense to him in the slightest. “I don’t understand.”
“Alphas are the enemy. They only come to take what they will. One of them took her and it was considered unforgivable by my neighbors.” Tossing her hair over her shoulder to open the pot of gruel and dig in, Morgaine added. “Esin’s ship discovered who my father was while I was in their prison. They executed him.”
“You speak of something horrible so lightly, yet I can sense deep sadness between your words. I’m sorry that happened to her, and I’m sorry it happened to you.” He meant every word, knowing that someday she would learn more about Omari culture and hate him for their ways with conquered women. But today was not that day. Today, she looked up, mouth full of the food he had made for her, and met his eyes.
This was the moment he had been waiting for. Far from the dividing line, he made his goodbyes and climbed to his feet, purposefully cutting their time short. “I must leave now, sweet Morgaine. My apologies. Please enjoy my gifts.”