Page 7 of The Dragon's Omega

CHAPTER 3

Lianna

I jolted awake to the sensation of falling—because I was falling.

Nosediving, in fact.

My scream was soundless this time as we plunged toward a small green splotch in a chain of pine-covered isles dotted across calm water. It all got closer and closer, so fast it made my head spin. I death-gripped one of Vidar’s fingers and braced for the end.

His wings flared out at the last second, blunting our descent so we didn’t splat into the water, but rather slam into it like a comet making its mark on Earth. Vidar took the brunt of the impact, but I was still sloshed head to toe with chilly water. He lilted left, then right, then finally crashed onto his side in a narrow cove. We were still for a moment, then, groaning, he pushed us to the shoreline with his back feet, one jerky movement at a time. Heaving a breath that sounded like a death rattle, he flung his arm to the side and slammed my cage onto the rocky beach.

I was gone the second his fist loosened, scrambling over his palm and out the other side. My knees buckled when I hit dry land, but, leaning into the adrenaline rush, I just yanked off my heels, tossed them aside, and bolted clumsily over stones and sand until I hit the tree line. Engulfed in thick, fluffy pines, I pushed until my lungs burned and my bare feet couldn’t take the terrain anymore. Only then did I stop and take stock of where we were.

Definitely not Cedar Cove.

In fact, this barely resonated as California at all. The air was cooler, thinner almost, triggering a rush of goosebumps all over as I soaked it in. Pine green and dark brown bark. Slate-gray rocks and so much underbrush that it didn’t make sense to go any farther in an evening gown. The island had already ripped into the material, and if I wasn’t careful, I’d split something open that would take me out of the game for good.

Okay. Okay. Think, girl. Focus.

I patted myself down to confirm that nothing was broken or actively bleeding. Bruised was a given. But I had no phone, no wallet, no nothing. It was just me at my most useless, perfume pluming away. Glaring down at my stomach, I pointed to the biggest troublemaker.

“You,” I muttered breathlessly, “keep your shit together. No more cramps.”

Like she was sentient, my uterus clenched just sharp enough for the pain to briefly knock the wind out of me. Awesome. Today was just… awesome.

Dress hitched high, I trudged back toward the beach. A long exhale of cypress and amber gusted over me along the way, and I slowed, breathing it in. Invisible fingers swept the stray hairs from my face, brushing them aside in the breeze. While I could do without a monster’s pheromones wreaking havoc on my omega side, it did some good, tenderly soothing my frayed nervous system. I stopped hearing my pulse pound in my skull. I stopped shaking, sweating. It cleared the static. It called me home.

All that went out the window, however, when I spotted him between two pines that had seen better days. With half their needles missing, a few of their branches broken, they gave me a perfect blind spot to sit in and study this dragon, this golden alpha who…

I licked my lips and rubbed my aching core, resisting the urge to drift lower and take care of the issue at its source.

This alpha had triggered a flash heat. It had nothing to do with Dewey, Chad, and Thad. It was him—or I wouldn’t still feel like this.

Omega heats hit three to four times a year. They were cyclical. You could track them like betas tracked their monthly menses. Our heats usually had a week of preheat cold and flu symptoms, followed by shitty uterine cramps before the heat itself took over, which then lasted three to five days.

A flash heat came out of the blue. They were said to be short, less than a day, and faded fast if you distanced yourself from the trigger, but the symptoms were supposedly… intense. It took major extenuating circumstances to trigger this sexual flash-bang—like finding your scent match. Some called those special people fated mates, because it was so rare to connect with them that it had to be fate’s doing.

And he…

This…

My next cramp made me double over and keen softly. Vidar answered with a growl that made my heart skip a beat, but he didn’t move. No, when the pain eased, I found him just where I’d left him, slumped on his side in the island’s cove, his head just at the beach, most of his body in the water, his arm outstretched and his palm empty. He was out of place here, not just because he was a fucking dragon, but because he was gold as ichor in a Renaissance painting, his scales faintly twinkling beneath a clear starry night sky, his silhouette bathed in moonlight. The island itself was dark and earthy; Vidar was ethereal and untouchable.

Like he had fallen to Earth from Mount Olympus itself, a god among mortals.

Given everything I’d learned tonight, maybe that wasn’t a story anymore either. Maybe the gods were real too. Maybe all of it was real. Every legend. Every myth. Every story passed down from mother to daughter.

Bonfire smoke teased my senses, its nuances richer, more seductive. Those invisible hands returned, caressing me, coaxing out a moan as I tipped my head and surrendered to the pressure on my throat. My breath stuttered as the sensation dipped lower, lower, lower?—

Fuck. My eyes snapped open and I teetered off-balance, lilting into the scraggly arms of a small pine. This was… something. No alpha had ever hit so hard before. They all triggered an omega’s base instincts, and all of us had experienced the innate dominance, authority, and might of a competent, confident alpha before, but no one felt like this. Not random alphas on the street. Not guest lecturers at the omega academy. Definitely not those Synn idiots.

Squaring my shoulders, I tried my damnedest to sideline the chaos inside as I tiptoed out of the trees. The second my feet hit the beach, Vidar’s golden gaze swiveled my way, and he inhaled sharply like he was sampling my perfume. Warmth kissed my cheeks, but I ignored the compliment of his aching groan, like my scent hit just as hard as his, and moved directly into his eyeline.

Shit, this guy was massive. Some of his head spikes could go toe to toe with a city bus. Keeping that in mind, I stopped about ten feet from his eyes, but it wasn’t enough. Need pounded my veins. Sweat erupted on my brow.

And a very unwelcome gush of slick drenched my panties and doused my inner thighs—again.

He inhaled as I fussed over my dress, as if the fabric might blunt the hot, sticky mess, and when I squared off with him, his pupils had gone from thin slits to what omegas informally dubbed ‘rut round’.