AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The hallowed space of the Flame Temple is hushed, and the fire crackling in the Font of First Flames melds with the gentle murmuring of the Temple Mothers going about their work. Occasional flakes of snow drift down from the open vaulted ceiling and settle in my lap and on my hair.
I’m sitting cross-legged on the ground, attempting to meditate and quiet my mind.
My mind won’t be quiet.
All I can think about is my mate.
She lost herself in my arms. I grew drunk on her scent as she kissed me and rubbed herself against my knot. I have never been as blissfully happy as I was then, and then I discovered that her first slick had come, and I was drenched in her.
A soft moan escapes me at the memory. I’m getting hard in the temple and my knot is throbbing, which is inappropriate but not too transgressive seeing as this place is devoted to everything that makes Alphas, Betas, and Omegas what they are. I probably shouldn’t stand up for a few minutes, though.
Behind me, I senseHratha’lenmoving around. Polishing the black volcanic stone from which this temple is hewn. Replenishing oil in sconces. Copying out manuscripts. Crafting medicines and drafts for the dragons and their riders in the workrooms in the back of the temple. There is always background bustle here.
I would like to think that Isavelle would enjoy it here, but I fear that it could remind her too much of the Brethren monasteries.
My hands curl into fists and grip my breeches. ThosefuckingBrethren.
I wonder what would have happened to her if her designation had emerged in a Brethren monastery. No doubt she would have been punished until she bled and screamed. If it weren’t for them, Isavelle wouldn’t have torn herself from my lap last night. They’ve made her ashamed of who she is. If I didn’t already hate them, I would hunt every single one down and kill them just for that.
I slowly get to my feet and gaze into the First Flames, wondering how I’m going to help my terrified Omega. If there was another like her among the dragonriders, I could entrust Isavelle to them to explain some of the changes she’s going through, but there isn’t another in all of Maledin. I wish my mother were still here. My sister…
One thing is clear. I should have asked the Omegas in my life a thousand questions when I had the chance. I never imagined a world in which my Omega was the only one.
I turn to leave and see that the Temple Crone, the woman who placed my crown on my head the day of the coronation, is watching me from an upper level. We nod to one another in greeting. She and the Temple Mothers and Temple Maidens have done a wonderful job restoring this place from the ruin of dust and neglect that it suffered during Brethren times. Here, I almost feel like no time has passed at all.
I make my way back through the castle, and a few minutes later, I’m standing at the war table once more, gazing at the map of Maledin. It swims before my eyes, and I blink to clear them. Sitting in the corridor outside Isavelle’s room all night has left me feeling wrung out, though I can only imagine how she’s feeling this morning. She probably didn’t get much sleep either.
As if I’ve summoned my mate merely by thinking about her, in Isavelle walks. Her complexion is wan and there are dark smudges beneath her eyes, but she walks purposefully toward me and stops a few feet away.
I turn and gaze at her with longing, imagining sweeping her into my arms and pressing a kiss to her lips.
“Do you want to bite me?” she suddenly blurts out.
I open my mouth and close it again. My gaze fastens on her throat. Sinking my aching dragines into her warm flesh and holding on tight would be a delicious pleasure. “Are you offering?”
She draws back in surprise. “Offering? I’m speaking hypothetically.”
“Right. Yes. Of course.” For fuck’s sake, of course she’s not interested in me biting her. Wanting her so much is making me stupid.
I scrub a hand over my face. “Sorry, why are you asking me this?”
“I’m curious. Do you want to bite me? I don’t know if I want you to bite me. That sounds painful.”
“Okay,” I say slowly, hoping my brain is going to catch up with what’s going on sooner rather than later. “Right this second, I promise not to bite you.”
“And what’s an…” Isavelle hesitates, and her cheeks turn pink. “…Omega heat position?”
Her blush is nothing compared to the outrage that swells inside me. My mate barely knows what an Omega is yet. How has she heard about things like that? “Where did you hear the phraseOmega heat position?”
“Um. I don’t remember.”
My mate is a terrible liar.
“Godric,” I shout. When my second-in-command pokes his head into the room, I growl, “Bring me Lady Isavelle’s bodyguards. Now.”
Before Godric has a chance to reply, Fiala and Dusan shuffle into the room. Fiala wears an expression of resignation. Dusan is staring at the floor, the apple at his throat bobbing.
“Where did my mate hear the phraseOmega heat position?” I growl.
