“He brought you to us because he knew you suffered. He will wish to see that you’re doing well… and Heidron Simin desires to court you.”
***
The door to Omega Sector was due to be unbarred any moment now, and on the other side, his female would be waiting. A single night without her in their nest had set his teeth on edge.
There were no warm curves to hold close. No soft sighs as he pleasured her. There was nothing but her lingering scent to remind him that he’d ever even had her.
When slaves were summoned to scrub his quarters, he forbid them from disturbing the nest. Morgaine’s presence must not be allowed to fade from the cushions. Burrowing in the bedding, breathing deeply of her scent was the only thing keeping him sane.
He had already considered five different methods of tearing down the Omega Sector door, ready to barge in and demand they return her to him.
He could cut off their air, refuse them supplies until they starved. Without crossing their fucking line, he could have her back.
But she would hate him even more than she already must.
The rut was working on his mind so powerfully that he thought he could even hear her soft mutterings if he closed his eyes hard enough and held a slick-stained pillow to his nose and breathed in until his lungs burned. Cock hard as an iron bar, he’d taken himself in hand. No matter how he milked his knot, there had been no relief. His balls ached, the hand working his shaft drawing out every last drop of come until he’d begun to climax dry.
It was agony.
Agony it would seem he deserved.
The Omega Etaine had been ordered to compile an expedited report on all Morgaine had shared. What Simin found projected before him pushed him past rage and into an emotion he could not name.
Flayed, stripped down to cracked bone and insignificant soul.
He had the names of Alphas, he had their rank, knew what ship they belonged to. In time he would have their lives. But first, he needed to help his kor’yr recover.
The best, most coveted foods were sent to Omega Sector to tempt her to eat. Fine clothes, jewels, anything a female might desire. Rare sweets.
She needed to see that he could provide anything she might desire, to learn that as a mate she would want for nothing.
His father once presented his wife the severed hands of an enemy tribe who had harmed her cousin. Simin would give Morgaine severed heads, the male’s flaccid cocks jammed into their mouths, all atop a tray of pure gold.
He’d buy her the cleverest slaves to amuse her.
If she wanted a planet, he’d give her three.
That damn door between him and his mate finally began to open.
Morgaine already waited for him, but hovered out of reach past the forbidden demarcation of Omega space. It didn’t matter. At least he could see her, smell her… maybe even touch her if she took just one more step forward.
Smiling, utter relief calming the bubbling agitation that had been burning the back of his throat, Simin entered. Their eyes met, he purred, but she did not return his joy.
Instead, she took a step backward and darted a nervous glance to the Omega with cropped hair waiting nearby.
His nervous bride spoke, her flittering language made solid by the translator. “I have been told that you are not allowed to cross this line.”
The damned golden tile track between them held Morgaine’s attention. Blue eyes so expressive in the throes of passion, refused to rise up and meet her mate’s after their single fleeting shared glance.
Walking forward into a room sour with female fear, Simin rubbed at his chest where her fear stung him most. He wanted so badly to reach out and take her hand, but for his every step forward, she took another step back. “I’m not.”
Morgaine was not adorned in any of the fine robes he sent to her, but wearing a style of dress Simin had never seen. It was plain, comprised of white fabric, and modest. “Did you make this garment?”
“Yes, Etaine”—Morgaine glanced to the translator facilitating speech between them, smiling—“offered me some supplies.”
“It’s ve
ry pretty.” But not what he had given her. Why was she not wearing what he had given her?