Page 28 of The Dragon's Omega
Another casual bomb dropped, albeit more gracelessly than the grenades those Synn morons threw for fun.
“It’s the same for all the Deathless Gods,” he told me, his tone velvety and, maybe, if I was reading it right—a little uncertain. “Our fated mates may be mortal or magical. Not all will have endless lives from birth, and to stop, well, a high turnover rate—” Vidar forced a weak grin, this one, for the first time today, coming nowhere near his eyes. “This is a gift from the gods. We are unburdened by the choice between love and duty. We can have both. It is encouraged, in fact, to bring our fated mates into the fold. We work alone—and can feel quite alone sometimes. Should I mark you, we would live as one forever, or until I left the cult. If I renounced my title of Deathless God, you would be made mortal again.”
A pitchy whine stretched between my ears, followed by a dizzying heat in my cheeks. “That’s… heavy.” Fuck’s sake. What a stupid thing to say. “I mean, uh, it’s… That’s… I j-just learned dragons and everything are real today, or yesterday, or whatever, so?—”
“It will be your choice to make, if you intend to keep me.” Vidar crawled over and settled in front of me on his stomach, his chin pillowed on his folded arms. “A mortal life, or the life of a mate to a Deathless God—are two ends of a spectrum. Make no mistake, I would suffer your mortal lifespan unbonded to you, if that is what you desire. The choice is yours, my omega. And it is not one you should make today.” He tapped my nose with his pinkie, drawing a hollow chuckle from me. “Or tomorrow. Or even this year. I only thought it fair that you have all the facts.”
Yeah, there was no way I could even process half the stuff he’d told me today. Deciding if I wanted to bond to my scent match properly—which I did—was one thing. Becoming immortal the second it happened? Information overload. If I tried to make a decision, any decision, I’d fry a circuit.
Still, one thing stuck with me, cemented in my brain: he was giving me a choice. An alpha putting his fate, his future, in the hands of his omega. Not exactly the most common thing in our world today, and from the way he spoke to me, looked at me now, his gaze dark and vulnerable—I believed him.
I believed that, in the end, what we shared would be left to me.
After a few calming breaths, anxiety all aflutter, I pushed off the pool seating and nudged his nose with mine, then stole a quick kiss.
“Thank you,” I whispered. Vidar’s rumble sounded more like a purr this time, like pure alpha contentment, and he gave me a slow blink, a nose nuzzle, and a deeper kiss in kind.
“Now,” he murmured against my lips, “I know you are just a little kitten in a sunbeam in those bathwaters, but—” My alpha let out deep, delicious chuckles as I chased him, stealing kiss after kiss until he folded and came back for more. Gripping my chin, he devoured my affections hungrily, his noises rougher, wilder.
“Omega,” Vidar eventually chided, all wolfish smiles and dark eyes when he tore himself away. “We can come back right away, spend the rest of the summer here, but, darling girl, I should attend the Summer Solstice Festival now that I’m able.” He pushed onto his knees and ambled back toward the mirror, taking his thickening erection with him. “See that it has gone on without me. Lend my fire, given my—” His gaze snagged mine in the mirror, holding it. “—absence.”
Right. The festival. The influencer-core, music-centered, rutting cacophony on the waterfront that I had been dreading for weeks.
“Uh, Vidar?”
“Lianna?” He flashed another of his crooked grins in the mirror as he finger-combed his hair. It still made me blush, no matter how many times I’d seen that adorable quirk of his mouth. Still, a few of the anxiety bees that lived alongside the flock of tummy butterflies suddenly buzzed into existence, making my palms sweat.
“I just…” I pulled my hands underwater when I caught his reflection frowning at them, like he could scent my concerns. “Do you know anything about the festival’s reputation?”
He lowered his arms, hair extra floofy after its tease. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” Clearing my throat, I pushed up to kneel on the bench, elbows planted on the edge of the pool. “It’s a summer solstice celebration in name only. Nobody goes there to reflect on the summer sun or learn about the history of the solstice, or, you know, whatever. It’s… a place to get drunk and take photos. It’s a status thing, just something to tick off the list, because there’s another festival next weekend that all the same people want to show their face at.” Vidar rounded on me, his arms crossed, his cock slowly deflating. Yeah, having your expectations dashed was kind of a boner killer. “Pack Synn markets their fire wall as a feat of, I dunno, technological brilliance?”
His expression hardened for a moment, making my breath catch in my throat, but it softened on his next exhale.
“If only Pack Synn honors the solstice, if they throw the festival in its honor, I have done my duty?—”
“It’s about making money. There’s no reverence.” I’d listened to Chad, Thad, and fucking Dewey talk about this midsummer blowout on every one of our awkward Friday night dates. Even if they hadn’t brought me into the know yet about dragons and such, they could have added some depth to their mind-numbing shallowness by talking just once about the solstice itself. I might have actually liked them more if they did. Not by much, but the bar was on the floor; anything above was a net positive. “There’s nothing solstice-y about what they do. Attendees go to drink and party, and, you know, have a fun beach day, a crazy night.”
“Past humans did the same?—”
“Alpha.” His gaze snapped to mine. Never did I ever want to call some dude Alpha, because no alpha needed the ego boost. But, right now, I needed mine to hear me. “It’s not about midsummer, or the solstice, or anything that would make people think, ‘hey, I’m celebrating the longest day of the year, a day of bounty——all that.” My heart ached the further his expression fell. “I just wanted you to know, because you’ve been out of the game for a while with the arrow thing, and?—”
“We made a deal.” Goosebumps erupted up my arms and down my legs. My nipples pebbled, hidden behind my forearms, and I shivered, shrinking at his tone. Vidar glared at the floor, his brow furrowed, his gaze hard, his voice pure dragon. “Pack Synn and I… signed contracts.” Rough, harsh echoes reverberated around the space, his words hissed back at me. “The use of my fire, the divine properties in the ash that I insisted be used for good.” His jaw slid to the side briefly, his fists tight. “For healing, and fertility, and…”
In the face of a snarling monster, literal or metaphorical, omega instincts always came to a fork in the road: flight or fawn. Fight was a modern concept for modern omegas—and traditionalists hated it. My gut told me to sink underwater and disappear, make myself invisible, so Vidar could work out all these big alpha feelings on his own.
I forced my prune-y ass out of the pool instead.
“What little I’ve gleaned about the inner workings of Pack Synn during this bullshit courtship,” I started as I brushed the drips from my limbs, eyeing a nearby towel, “makes me think that they probably sell your magical ash to the highest bidder.” Assaulted by cool air from every side, I grinned thankfully when Vidar grabbed the towel and handed it over. “That’s just the vibe I get from their pack, and, honestly, so many wealthy packs these days. It’s get rich, stay rich, especially out here.”
After a proper rubdown, I looped this towel that was built for alpha proportions around my middle—twice—and tucked a corner under my armpit. Then, squeezing out the moisture in my hair, I moved closer, one cautious step at a time. My heart said he wouldn’t snap, wouldn’t go full feral and take it out on the nearest target?—
And my heart was right. Vidar grumbled softly the second I touched his arm, and his furious gaze shuttered closed as I rubbed his bicep. Feeling safe again, I cuddled into his chest, my perfume misting cozy, rich vanilla. He rumbled again as he uncrossed his arms and wrapped one loosely around my waist, drawing me in, while his other hand went for my hair, smoothing it out of my face and looping it behind my ears.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, hugging his steely torso and resting my chin between his tattooed pecs. “Maybe I’m wrong.” He dipped his head to meet my gaze properly, and something told me we both knew I wasn’t. Pack Synn had a few reputations, some they played up for the media, others they tried and failed to silence behind closed doors. “But why don’t we just go? Walk around for a bit, get the lay of the land. Then you can decide for yourself.”
After all, who was I to say the festival wasn’t up to Deathless God standards? Maybe it was just scooting by with a passing grade, and all this worry, this speculation, was baseless.