Page 73 of His Stolen Omega

“There’s another,” Elm said, freezing as soon as he did. He could feel the alpha’s eyes on him, but refused to look back, not wanting to risk giving himself away more than he already had.

After all of that? There was no way in hell Elm was revealing he was the artist Levi had just so thoroughly picked apart.

“It’s a set,” he continued, wanting to fill the silence before the alpha grew suspicious. “I’ve seen the other one.”

“Where?” Levi’s tone dropped low, intense.

“Kian’s.” His brother was the only one who knew he created under the name Median. Not even Sky was aware. The final project had been made during after school hours, while Elm had been alone. He’d gifted the matching statue to him as a parting gift, afraid that after Kian had found his blood family, he’d forget about him.

It was in Kian’s penthouse suite above Club Caelum now, tucked into a corner in some back room. He’d taken care of it, displayed it, but not out in the open the way Levi had.

Not at the front of the house, where everyone could see it.

“Does it look the same?” It was clear the alpha wasn’t pleased to hear his enemy had something he’d been seeking. “Will he sell it?”

Elm debated how much to say, then opted to just go all in. Without seeing it himself, there was no way Levi could guess the second statue had been created in Elm’s own image. Hell, even if he did see it, he probably wouldn’t.

“It’s a little shorter, not by much, and the items in his hands are reversed,” he divulged. “But he isn’t wearing a mask. He doesn’t have a face at all. There isn’t much of anything. No abs or belly button. A smooth bulge between normal sized thighs.”

Elm’s teacher had only wanted to sell the one piece because he considered the second one unfinished.

Elm didn’t.

It looked exactly the way he’d wanted it to.

“But he’s got stature,” the alpha pointed out. “This statue is above average in height. You—”

“I’m average height for a beta,” Elm replied.

“You aren’t a beta anymore.”

Elm glanced away.

“The title?” Levi asked.

“Derivative.” Eighteen-year-old him had felt so clever for that one.

“It can’t be that bad.”

“No, I mean that’s it. The title is Derivative.”

The alpha tipped his head and thought it over, then chuckled. “Cute.”

Elm bristled. “Excuse me?”

“It’s a self-portrait,” he explained. “The one Kian has?” He pointed to the Rabbit God again. “His vision of a perfect mate. And his plain self. He kept the lantern and the moon cake to show his giving nature, but removed all physical features. Does he even have veins? Like this one does?”

“No.”

“What about his ass?”

“…He…has a butt.”

“Two cheeks?”

“Good Light, yes.” Elm felt the tips of his ears heating, even though Levi still didn’t know he was the creator.

“He doesn’t think he’s worthy of the type of mate he desires,” Levi surmised. “He thinks he’s too plain.” He hummed. “I was wrong. The artist isn’t omega. He must be a beta.”