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Still it felt like rejection, cutting deep until a commotion outside the door revealed Jude and Oberon, each carrying a tray overflowing with food.
“Your heat broke.” Oberon sounded almost pleased by this fact.
“It will be back. And then you will submit to my cunt,” I snapped back, hoping to taunt him into a biting remark.
“Yes.” The simple word hung in the air between us. Oberon began to whistle—whistle!—as he set down the tray. I looked at Puck who shrugged, clearly as much at a loss as I.
“I cannot abide the sound of whistling.” I snapped.
“Why?” Puck asked, pushing us both into a seated position.
“Because I can’t do it.” The confession was out before I could stop it. Once started though, it seemed impossible to stop. “I’m completely backwards. What is meant to be hard comes naturally. What’s natural, damned impossible. The way an omega is meant to love was, is so hard. My instinct is to claim and possess. Omegas struggle to take charge outside of domestic settings. I live outside of the home, hate being penned in. I could slay a dragon. If one appeared, I would push you to the side and fight the dragon. I don’t know what is so wrong with me that I must do everything backwards and wrong.”
“Not wrong, little bird.” Oberon poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Puck as if I’d not spilled forth my closest secret.
“Why must you be so callus?” Jude glared from his place on the bed. “You’ve done enough.”
“Until she understands, I’ve not done enough.” The corner of his mouth pulled up on one corner.
I pressed my lips together. Despite how raw, burnt to the quick, I felt, their antagonising barbs distracted me.
“You should hang for what you’ve done.” I did not understand the aggression between the alphas, but the stillness I was all too familiar with settled about me. I would prevent violence with violence of my own if necessary.
“Only if I hang from your cock,” Oberon smirked. This time he handed Jude coffee and to my wonder Jude accepted the drink without remark.
“Enough.” I let my bark out. Their focus snapped towards me. Suddenly the scents in the room deepened. They wanted more of my bark, more of my bite. But I was learning to not let them gorge on—oh, goddess could I really say it?—my dominance. So I soothed my tone. “A pair of fishwives have more decorum than you.”
“But Pol!”
“Little bird!”
Jude’s protest was genuine. Oberon’s eyes glittered. Did he hope to tempt me by acting brattish? Or—
“Do you think this little contretemps will provoke my heat?”
“Or that you seek to master us. Do not look so confused, omega. Whatever you want. Remember? My darkest fantasy? To be crushed under your foot. Are you ready to—“
“I dislike how you want to manipulate me,” I snapped. “Thinking that I need to stomp on you to hold the reins.”
His laugh was like the liquorish he indulged in. Sweetly sharp and full of spicy depth I wanted to bathe in. “You would do it, wouldn’t you. Put your foot on my aching cock and pin me in place.”
“You haven’t earned it.” The words were out before I could catch them because if he wanted to be used in that way I’d indulge him but when I decided to and not before.
“How? Let me earn that pleasure.”
I stood, felt cum and slick slide down my thighs. They watched me, keen as hawks who thought the creature they stalked prey. We all knew better, of course. For they did not stop me as I hunted through a drawer for a clean shirt and breeches.
“I’m going for a bath.” As I left I made damn sure the slam the door behind me. Then for good measure bolted it. See how they liked to be locked in a room with the only exit being a window and drainpipe.
A week passedand I was loathe to admit I could find no fault in the arrangements Oberon had made to allow me to continue my work. A study of my own, access to my people who, damn them, enjoyed working out of the Hell. And in my room, a dressing table, large mirror—not placed above the bed—, even my clothes. Too comfortable, dammit. I clung to the very real distrust. The very real dislike of them. Oberon had taken me by surprise when we had our little moment the day I brought Tod home. My pleasure had been real enough, my disgust at myself for letting my guard as powerful. Then Jude.
I was becoming domesticated like those other omegas. My days now blended together: mornings with Tod; afternoons in my cage where I rested. More time still with scraps of paper to write instructions for Peaseblossom and Mustardseed; and evenings with the alphas, Tod a welcome nuisance. For I knew Oberon’s aim. The longer I spent in their company, the more likely my omega nature would perceive them as at best benign, at worst desirable creatures. All to the eventuality that my heat would be triggered again. And secretly I wondered why it hadn’t returned. My alphas around me almost constantly. Sleeping in my room every night.
Still my heat had not returned.
“You are thoughtful.”
Moth stood at the door to the drawing room, arms crossed. It was early for him to be up for since my visit to the Hell the rooms had been more crowded than usual and Moth had taken on an assistant to turn away alphas and betas who were unfamiliar to him. The Hell was not some zoo for people to visit in hopes of seeing an omega.
