Trying to focus on the important part of the equation, and not the way precome glistened from the man’s rosy slit and coated his fingers in sticky residue, Sarang captured the omega’s hand.
“Keep it here,” he ordered as he flattened the man’s palm over his wound. “Staunch the bleeding while I go get the medical kit.”
They kept one in the bathroom since ruts turned alphas every bit as crazed as heats made omegas. There’d been times he’d come out of it with bruises and cuts, even though he’d been the only one down here for days.
The kit might not be enough—this wasn’t a hospital, and there was no telling how long the omega had been out there before Sarang had found him—but he had to do something.
He was only gone for a moment, a minute at most, but when he returned, it was to find the omega hadn’t listened, and was instead making matters worse.
The horny thing was on his hands and knees now, grinding down onto one of the pillows, which he’d stuffed between his thighs. Sarang walked in just as he seemed to realize the friction wasn’t going to be enough for him, and he reached back to stuff two fingers into his hole.
Slick poured out around his digits as he corkscrewed them in and moaned, pheromones wafting across the room to tickle tauntingly at Sarang’s nose.
If not for the blood drenching through the comforter, Sarang might have given in. His cock was hard, to the point it was almost painful when he crossed the space between them. His own pheromones responded against his control, flicking out over the omega, switching between soothing and enticing, his own biology unable to settle on a course of action.
There was a way to save this omega and satisfy his lust, but…
No. He couldn’t.
Sarang wasn’t his father. He wouldn’t blame his nature or victimize himself.
He was a grown adult. An alpha.
He could control himself.
Roughly, he grabbed the omega’s arm and forced him onto his back once more, pinning him in place with a warning growl and a hand at the base of his throat. He didn’t keep it there long, removing it as soon as the omega whimpered and stilled.
The bullet had passed through the omega’s body, which was a good thing in one way, but also meant he’d been losing blood from both sides all this time. The gauze from the medical kit was soaked through in a matter of minutes. A hospital would have the proper technology, could probably save him, but there were few that accepted an omega in heat, and none of them were anywhere near enough his home.
“My glabrio was hit,” the omega informed him, referring to one of their major organs, causing Sarang to freeze. “I won’t last an hour, alpha. There’s no point in wasting time like this. Won’t you fulfill a dying man’s last request?”
“How the hell did this happen?” Sarang cursed. He’d lived on this farm all his life, but this was Synastry. He knew the dangers of their planet, the cruelty, had in fact encountered more than his fair share in the past. But omegas were precious. Meant to be coveted and protected. “Are you running from an unwanted claim?” There were no marks on his neck.
If the omega had been bonded already, he wouldn’t be able to get hard for Sarang during heat like this. Those responses would be reserved for his official alpha.
An unmated omega was worth his weight in gold.
“Stop avoiding the conversation.” The omega rose onto his knees, ignoring Sarang’s protests. “Fuck me, alpha. It’s already pathetic enough that I let those bastards get the best of me. Don’t let me die a virgin as well.”
He blinked at him and caught his arms when he tried to drape them over his shoulders. “You’ve never…?” That didn’t make sense. Sure, the omega was young, but as soon as he’d presented, he would have been encouraged to find a bedpartner. Unless… “How old are you?”
“I’m legal.”
“Omega.”
“I’m eighteen. Nineteen in a month. Or, well, I suppose not now, huh?” Again with that same steady tone.
“Don’t you fear death?”
“What’s to fear?” He shrugged. “It just is. Like everything else. Then again, who knows? Perhaps dying will be the most fun I’ve had in years. I’m certainly enjoying myself right now—At least, I would be, if you’d stop being stubborn and take out your cock. Am I not your type? Tell me what is. I can adjust.”
The fact he could speak so clearly through his heat confirmed what Sarang had thought he’d picked up in the man’s scent.
He wasn’t just an omega, he was a dominant one. That made him top tier. The fact that he was of legal age, looked the way he did, and yet was unmated was a miracle. It made sense that he was running from alphas trying to claim him, but the theory fell apart when he factored in the gunshot wound.
What alpha in his right mind would shoot a prize like this one? Especially with such a killing blow?
A slow, and agonizing one?
