He wouldn’t save this omega just to keep him for himself. He’d do it because it was the right thing to do, and no other reason but.
“You asked about my type.” Sarang lifted onto the edge of the mattress, rolling the omega onto his back again. “Apparently, it’s vulnerable omegas who need protecting.”
“That so?” The omega’s eyes slipped shut once more. “Wrong omega then.”
“I don’t think that’s true.” He placed his palm over the gaping hole and inhaled, gathering himself. A sense of urgency spiked through him when he felt the smaller man’s body go lax.
The omega had just lost consciousness.
“Whether that is true or not,” Sarang said, even though the omega was no longer listening, “you definitely picked the right alpha.”
Everything in the universe shared one common factor.
Qi.
A vital energy, or life force, that flowed through and sustained all living beings. Gray’s straddled the line between life and death, containing the power to channel qi through themselves and others, using it to heal or destroy.
As a people, the Gray were considered just. They stuck by strong principles and often took to fields where their abilities could help the majority. Most of the family on his father’s side were doctors, with his father being the black sheep. Not only had he chosen farming, he’d also moved three galaxies away and fallen for an alpha female.
Their relationship might have been considered an oddity, but his mother had been welcomed into the familywith open arms. Still, since it was a rare occurrence, there wasn’t much knowledge about how a Gray and Syn’s biology might interact. Which parts of their nature would take root in offspring between the two.
Since balance was the most important thing in all beings, Gray’s presented in much the same way alphas and omegas did. Their ability to siphon and filter qi began around the ages of ten and twelve. Their coming of age was traditionally spent with the parents in seclusion, learning how to safely use their power.
There were two main reasons for this. The first, was to ensure they didn’t accidentally drain the life force from someone, inadvertently killing them. Murder was a serious offense to their kind. The second, was to ensure they didn’t unwittingly form a life-bond, another serious matter, one that, arguably, was even more so than killing.
Normally, a Gray could heal, and then feed off the qi of another to replenish their sources. This exchange was safe for all parties involved; a give and take that ensured everyone survived. Some species had stronger qi, could afford to give more, or took more to heal. Any time a Gray used their ability outside of their own kind, they took greater risks. Life-bonds were an ancient solution to this matter, initially introduced during the Great War by their oppressors, but later turned into an act of love.
Life-bonds were meant to link the qi between two Grays, enabling them to keep the ebb and flow of qi without fear of running out. Whenever the life force dipped in one, the other supplied theirs to balance it.
The bond was sacred, only given once, and tied two people together forever. Bonded partners could latch onto the other’s qi from miles away, so there was a high level of trust needed for a bond to be accepted.
And, typically, the bond did need to be accepted, the same as a claiming mark did, and like with a claiming mark, there was nothing to stop one party from changing their mind and harming the other.
Alphas used to openly beat their omegas, though laws had been put into place to prevent domestic violence. That didn’t mean it didn’t still happen. The fear of his mother one day changing her mind, rejecting or neglecting the bond, was too unsettling for his father to accept. That, plus the fact there was no known knowledge on how a bond between their two kinds would even work, meant neither pushed for it.
His father was free to stabilize as usual, gathering qi from neighbors and friends, all without their knowledge. But his mother…As an unmated alpha, she suffered during her ruts. Even with a partner to help her through them, the lack of answering pheromones caused hers to become unstable the longer they were together. Birthing two children hadn’t helped.
To make matters worse, the thing his father feared most—that she would one day turn her back on him—ended up being his own doing instead.
Shortly after Yuna’s birth, Sarang’s grandmother passed. His father returned home for the funeral on his own, since they hadn’t wanted to risk traveling so far with a newborn. During his stay, he got into a bad car accident, and in his desperation not to become a murderer, had used his lifeforce to heal the woman he’d run off the road.
This on its own wouldn’t have been an issue.
He’d stayed with her at the hospital during her recovery, and had developed mutual feelings for her. When her vitals had spiked dangerously, he’d made the choice to form the life-bond to protect her.
In doing so, he’d stabilized her qi and ensured her survival.
But had damned his family in the process.
Sarang hadn’t seen or heard from him since, and he’d carried this resentment day after day, watching as his mother suffered and struggled to maintain a farm she’d never wanted. Aching for a sister who grew up with the knowledge she’d been abandoned.
One warm afternoon, seated on the back porch in the low light of the setting sun, Sarang had cradled his baby sister and sworn to never form the life-bond with anyone. To deny that half of himself forever, and never risk becoming anything like their dad.
To completely ignore his Gray half.
It’d been relatively simple to accomplish, since he’d come of age after his father had already left. Everything he’d learned about his abilities, about how to control qi, he’d done through old textbooks the man had left behind. Since he’d been too frightened of losing control, he’d been forced to at least learn enough to keep himself steady. But he’d only ever exercised his power on plants, never once daring to use it on a person.
Yet here he was.
