Even if I'm losing myself to become his perfect omega.
The word appears in my mind unbidden, and I freeze. Omega. Where did that come from? I'm not... I can't be...
But the word feels right in a way that terrifies me. Like a key sliding into a lock I didn't know existed.
I touch my neck absently, remembering the way his fingers traced along my throat during yesterday's bath. The skin there still feels sensitive, still tingles at the memory of his touch. Sometimes I catch myself touching it without thinking, like my body is trying to hold onto the ghost of his attention.
Maybe that's not such a terrible thing after all.
Maybe becoming his perfect omega is exactly what I'm meant to be.
The thought should horrify me. Instead, it settles into my chest like a warm coal, chasing away the last of the cold that's lived there for twenty years.
Tomorrow, I'll ask for something else. Something that will make him look at me with those pale eyes and smile. Something that will earn me another dose of the approval I'm learning to crave more than air.
Tomorrow, I'll be his good girl again.
And maybe, if I'm very good, he'll touch me again. Run those long fingers through my hair, trace the line of my jaw, press his lips to my forehead like he did after my punishment.
The memory makes my skin flush with heat that has nothing to do with the fire crackling in the grate.
I'm becoming addicted to being his good girl. And I'm not sure I have the strength to fight that addiction anymore.
Not sure I want to.
CHAPTER 10
ARATUS
DAYS 28-30
She's fightingherself now instead of me.
Day twenty-eight, I watch her complete her morning routine with mechanical precision. Makes breakfast without burning anything—the eggs perfectly golden, the bread toasted to an exact shade of brown. Tends the fire properly, arranging the logs with careful attention to airflow. Cleans with quiet efficiency, every movement economical and correct.
Every action is exactly what I've trained her to do. But underneath the compliance, I can feel her tension like a living thing.
She's wound tight as a spring, vibrating with needs she refuses to acknowledge. Her breathing is too controlled, her movements too careful. Like she's holding herself together through sheer force of will, terrified that if she relaxes even slightly, something will break loose that she can't control.
Her scent has changed over the past week. The roses are still there—that sweet, feminine base note that first drew my attention. But underneath is something richer, more complex. Honey and musk and something that makes my cocks twitchwith interest. The first hints of approaching heat, though she doesn't know it yet.
The omega in her is awakening whether she wants it to or not.
I've seen it before, in the handful of natural omegas born before the Sundering. That restless energy, the way they start seeking alpha attention without realizing it. The confusion as their body begins preparing for something their mind doesn't understand.
But Elise's transformation is different. More intense. The preservation magic I used on her has amplified everything—her scent, her responses, her omega traits. She's becoming exactly what I need her to be, but the process is tearing her apart from the inside.
Perfect.
When I enter the kitchen, she's washing dishes. Her hands are completely still in the soapy water, like she's frozen mid-motion. She doesn't turn around, doesn't acknowledge my presence at all. But I can see the tension in her shoulders, the way her spine goes rigid.
"Good morning, Elise."
"Good morning." Her voice is tight. Controlled. Like she's keeping something caged inside her chest and it's fighting to get out.
I move closer, drawn by that shifting scent. The way it's changing tells me everything I need to know about her internal state. Arousal and fear mixing together, creating something intoxicating and desperate.
I can smell her more strongly now—the sweet omega nature mixing with something sharp. Fear, yes, but also need. The confusion of wanting something you're determined to deny. Of feeling your body betray you in ways you don't understand.
