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“Where else is she going to learn how to have some fun? This is how I learned. By talking to people.”
Fiala opens her mouth again, but I shake my head. “Let him speak. I want to hear.”
I should have clarified that I wanted to hear about designations, not Dusan’s sexual exploits, but it’s too late and he launches into them.
“Good choice, now listen up. I had sex with an Alpha once, and it was exhausting. He wanted me in the Omega heat position, and he wouldn’t stopbitingme. The back of my neck was raw for a week.”
I frown. “Omega heat position?”
He rolls his eyes. “It’s an Omega position where they want you face down with your knees spread and your ass up and they mount you like a—”
“Dusan,” Fiala hisses. “Cut it out.”
“What? Lady Isavelle asked me.”
“Remember what we were ordered,” Fiala growls through her teeth.
The color drains slowly from his face. “Oh, wyvern piss. I forgot.”
I wait for him to go on, but they both stand there in silence. “I still don’t understand what a designation is, and I want to know what an Omega heat position is.”
Both bodyguards keep their lips firmly closed.
I put down my cup on the bedside table and get to my feet. “Fine. If you won’t tell me, I’ll ask Zabriel. Please leave while I get dressed.”
The dark-haired wingrunner drags a hand down her face and mutters to Dusan as they leave the room, “Now look what you’ve done, idiot.”
As I get dressed, I can’t help thinking, they mount you like awhat?A strange feeling is revolving in my belly, and I can’t tell if it’s curiosity or horror.
When I open my door, Fiala steps forward immediately. “Lady Isavelle, please forget we said anything. We’re Betas, and we don’t know what we’re talking about.”
“You seem to know more than I do. Look, what is an Omega anyway? Everyone keeps talking about Alphas and Omegas like they’re important, but I don’t understand why. Zabriel is an Alpha, but what does that really mean?”
I didn’t think it was possible for a couple of battle-hardened soldiers to look fearful from merely being asked a question.
“He…he didn’t explain it to you?” Dusan stammers. “Nothing at all?”
“Dusan,” Fiala growls in warning.
“Zabriel doesn’t tell me anything. He says wait and see, and I’ll understand later.”
Dusan rubs the back of his head and puffs out his cheeks. “Well, yeah, you probably will. Omegas get cravings for all kinds of crazy—”
Fiala punches his shoulder. “Dusan. Shut. Up.”
I look from Fiala to Dusan, at a complete loss to understand why my normally friendly and relaxed bodyguards are acting so strangely all of a sudden.
“If you have questions about your designation or King Zabriel’s, you need to ask your mate,” Fiala says, an apologetic note to her voice. “We can’t help you, I’m sorry.”
I’ve had enough of weird things happening to my body and strange conversations I don’t understand. “Fine. I will ask him. Slicks. Omegas. Heat positions. Everything.”
As I turn and head down the corridor, Dusan mutters under his breath, “Oh, no. What have we done?”
“We?We?You’re unbelievable, Dusan. Scourge is going to rip both our heads off for this.”
16
Zabriel
