The show of lights died as fast as it seemed to appear, leaving Er’it blinking at the bright red and chartreuse dots dancing in his vision. Her panting loud beside his ear as he covered her with his bulk, huddled around her as if to protect her. Every glimmer of sunset gone from her skin, she lay passive under him. Still not struggling, just as she hadn’t when his magic still coated her from head to toe.
“Who are you,” Er’it asked in a whisper, rising onto his elbows to see the dreamy night sky of her gaze, her stuttering hum filling him with something close to pride.
Questioning her now would be futile as she whined and rubbed against him. Pain had proven little motivation to her, instead bringing her a pleasure he’d never seen from someone. He’d heard tales of some who reveled in the bliss of true pain but had never tried to torture one. Yet the Omega had cried too well and long for him to think she desired true pain.
Lashes fluttering, Er’it realized he was beyond exhausted. Limbs slack and heavy, he groaned and rolled to his side. He was spent, and he hadn’t used even a measure of what he was capable of. Half asleep as his head nestled into the thick cushion, he couldn’t find the energy to haul their bodies onto the bed waiting a few feet away. Instead he snagged the nearest thing to cover them, wrapping the Omega around him so she clutched to his body and whispered her little humming purr against his chest.
Darkness crept over him before he could recognize the smile pulling at his lips.
Eyes opening, Er’it sighed at the cool light of early morning skimming his shoulder. Illuminating the Omega’s face, peaceful in sleep as he never saw her in her waking hours. A faint smile graced her lips, making them lusher and more irresistible than ever.
His urge to kiss her so forceful he found his lips against hers before the thought formed, Er’it muffled his groan with her mouth. Swallowing her startled little hiccup as he tugged her body, still soft and warm from sleep, beneath his to rut with agonizing slowness against her. His body responded to her in an instant, his need for her as dire as thirst and hunger. Her desire matching his own as she made little coos and murmurs against him, daring to dart out her little pink tongue to taste him.
“Majesty? Are you awake,” Ath’asho called in as quiet a voice as the large man could muster, rapping his knuckles against the wooden pole.
Ice drenched the fire roiling in his belly, the chill of it snaking down his spine. He’d failed to get his answers from her. Depleted of his magic, he’d passed out and remained vulnerable through the entire night because of this female. Er’it’s anger returned in full force, doubling down on as the Omega peered up at him with dazed black eyes and a puckered line marring her brow.
Er’it shoved the woman away with a snarl, pretending not to hear her whimper of pain or the choked sob she made as she crawled further away from him. Huddled like a whipped dog, trembling in the cool shadows with her head hung between sagging shoulders. Yanking the tent flap open, Er’it greeted his general with a narrowed gaze that begged for the smallest of slights.
“Shall I bring water and food, Majesty?” Ath’asho kept his eyes centered on Er’it chest, failing to give the provocation Er’it desired.
“Yes,” Er’it said as his fingers worked over the hilt of his knife. He had no memory of slipping it back into its sheath, but the flakes of rusty brown and berry red staining his fingers proved he had done what he thought he had last night.
Glancing at the Omega, Er’it’s lips twisted. More proof of his endeavors marking her chest and neck, bruising and shallow cuts. He remembered too well the way she’d come as he fed her his magic, taking in her blood, leeching away her life by the mouthful.
“Get me Tor’en as well,” Er’it shouted at Ath’asho’s retreating back.
Turning to the Omega, he crossed his arms and surveyed the damage he’d wreaked upon her. None other than Ath’asho and Tor’en could see her like this. Those two alone would keep their silence. Muttering under his breath, he threw his coat at her, barking an order for her to cover herself over his shoulder as an anxious knock came against the pole once more.
Snatching the tray from the poor girl whose face went green under the lush olive cast of her skin at the sight of Er’it’s bared teeth, he slapped the tent door closed before she could regain her composure and look at the wounded Omega. Repeated the same as another came bearing water and cloths for a wash, hoping the young man didn’t see the crimson stain spreading on the front of the coat the Omega wore.
“Eat. Wash.” Having given the order, Er’it went back to ignoring her. Hating the way her scent taunted him as the tent warmed, sending her sweet musk into the air. Knowing that if he said anything about the slick coating her thighs, still sticky on his pants, that’d he’d lose his resolve to not touch her until after he’d spoken with Tor’en. Growling when he found himself edging nearer to the woman as she pushed little bites of food between her lips and chewed as if she had no will to even eat.
Then it made sense. All of it coming together in his mind, creating a vast picture that stole his breath for a moment. Omegas had no power of their own but must return to their place of power for him to perform the rite. Last night, the icy blue power that tasted of snow and fragile beginnings had defied the molten heat of his magic. Enabling the Omega to lay waste to it
