“Jesus Matthew Fredrick Christ!” she yells, hand going to her chest.
“I’m sorry, omega,” I say, my purr kicking up as I try to appease her, but I frown. “I do not understand these words.”
She waves her hand, and her large breasts sway. I snap my eyes back up to hers quickly, lest I seem like an alpha in rut. She says dismissively, “It’s just... like a curse word.” Her face relaxes and her look turns intrigued. “Do you guys say ‘fuck’?” she asks.
I nod, “Yes, as a euphemism for sex and an expletive."
“Yeah,” she nods, “Like that.”
“Well...” I ponder this, wondering who those four people are and what they did that their names are now curses, “I apologize for frightening you. I had hoped to have a morning meal ready for you before you woke.”
She shrugs. “I’m an early riser, especially after...” she trails off and turns, “Anyway where do you guys keep the coffee?”
I chuckle. “I heard from the other human omegas how important it was for most humans to have their morning juice, so I bartered my purple bittercress pie recipe for a large supply of the seeds.”
I open a lower cabinet and pull out the jar of coffee seeds and the equipment that I had received as well. “But,” I continue, “I fear you might need to teach me.” I smile and arch an eyebrow.
I do not need her to. But I want her to.
Her rich eyes study me for a moment, but I can see the nervousness fading. It takes everything in me not to start purring for her, to tell her what a good, brave omega she is. I’m not sure she’s ready for that.
“Alright, Ziam,” she murmurs, then turns. “That’s the grinder, you need to put some seeds—I mean, beans—in it and crank the handle. I’ll get the espresso pot ready.”
I follow her directions as I watch her covertly. She rinses the pot in the sink and fills the bottom, placing it on the stove.
“Now what?” I ask guilelessly. She comes and takes the grinder from me carefully, twisting off the top and pouring the ground beans into the pot before screwing the lid on. She studies the dials of the stove for a moment. But her head shakes and she says, “I can’t read these.”
I step nearer to her and rotate the burner we need on. “Low or high?” I ask, pointing to the markings.
“High,” she responds.
“We have translator glasses, if you’d like,” I offer offhandedly.
“Oh, cool!” she says, the first real spark of interest I’ve seen from her. My alpha preens internally. “Definitely!”
“They are in the library, I will get them for you later.” I nod. “Now, what do you like to eat? You enjoyed the toast yesterday but I need more options of meals to feed you. I studied my manual carefully and know there are only a few foods here on Celnoe that are poisonous to humans. They have all been removed from the larder and cold storage.”
She blinks her enchantingly brown eyes up at me. “Oh. Um. Thanks.” Her words are stilted. She puts her palms together and twines her fingers. As I study her hands, she continues, “I don’t know that you guys have pizza. Or spaghetti.”
I frown. “Neither translate. But after breakfast, I want you to describe them for me.” I nod, set on recreating both meals for her. “Will eggs and toast do for this meal?”
She lets out a tiny, high-pitched laugh, and I grin at the happy sound. “Yes,” she says, “of course.”
“Sit, omega, I’ll bring you your coffee when it is done,” I say without thought as I turn to gather ingredients.
But instead of obeying, my little omega hesitates, an odd look on her face. I frown, closing the cooling unit and crossing to her.
Lux and Ati said we’d do this our way.Herway. The way our omega needs from us.
I stop close to her but without touching. “What is wrong, Octavia?”
She takes a deep breath before answering in a near-whisper, “I dislike being ordered around. Because...” her words trail off.
I ache to take her in my arms. To pull her to me and soothe her worries and fears. I clench my hands tightly at my sides, forcing myself to stay still. “Because of what?”
She shrugs, mouth parting, but just then, Lux and Atiox enter the kitchen. Both have the mussed and satisfied look of well-pleased alphas. Octavia’s eyes drop to Ati’s nipple piercings.I bite down a grin despite our serious conversation that was interrupted.
“Mmm, my loves,” Ati rumbles in his sweet way, “have you eaten?”
