He is breathing in my pheromones, snuggling closer to me, rather than shying away in fear like most people do.
I’m shaking but I stroke over Seventy-one’s hair, petting him.
I didn’t know how much I would love holding an Omega like this.
My scent match.
My soulmate.
Finally, I understand Mars’ drive to match with an Omega. He’s written romantic stories about pack bonds for years, dreaming of loving someone with a depth of connection that I never believed was real. It certainly didn’t exist within the Adonis pack.
Now, I feel guilty.
I understand him and it shatters my heart all over again because the way that Mars was rejected by his courted Omega feels a thousand times worse.
I have spent most of my life being told that I was forbidden to have my own Omega or bonded pack.
Agonizing hope rises in me.
It chokes me.
“You’re safe,” I murmur, unsure what I should be saying but desperate to try anything to make sure that Seventy-one survives. “I have you.”
Seventy-one’s nose brushes against my scent gland.
He sniffs.
I haven’t thought about my scent apart from how to mask it on missions.
After all, nobody would be attracted to my caramel Omega scent, which is the creamy, buttery espresso scent of caramel macchiato when I am in my Alpha dynamic.
Yet it makes me glow, fulfilling me in a way that I never knew I needed, when Seventy-one sniffs and licks happily at my neck like he can’t get enough of the aroma.
Then when he pushes his nose even more firmly against my throat like he could live in my scent.
And begins to purr.
I freeze.
I don’t want to move, frightened that I will stop the prettiest sound I have ever heard.
Seventy-one is purring because he is in my arms, and even in a coma, he can sense that I am his Alpha.
Am I being the same romantic idiot as my brother?Am I deluded?
Have I gone crazy from loneliness?Have I broken?
“Live,” I whisper against the top of Seventy-one’s head. I tighten my arms around him like I can transfer my strength as well as my warmth to him. “Fuckinglive.”
And he does…for six days now.
He also, however, hasn’t woken from his pheromone imbalance coma.
I didn’t sleep for the entire first day and night. I was too frightened that if I did…even for a moment…I would have lost him when I woke up.
I clung to my Omega, listening to his purr. I counted the seconds by the feel of his soft breath against my neck.
The next morning, he had survived against all the odds.
