I give Selwyn a quizzical look because I don’t have the faintest clue what a mating bond is. I mean, I could hazard a guess. I’m pretty sure it is something some animals do. But it’s far removed from any human thing.
Selwyn takes a breath. “Where do I need to start?”
“At the very, very beginning.”
The prince nods, as if that isn’t a pain in the ass. Then he starts talking. “A lot of what is known, is from species like wolf shifters who still have omegas.”
Oh, that’s interesting. The fact that there are actual omegas walking around could be very useful. It would be great to find someone to talk to.
“Omegas are submissive and docile. In packs they are the nurturing caregivers,” says Selwyn.
My snort of derision echoes around the room. Llywelyn is a little shit. I like him, I really, truly like him. Even with all his flaws. But nurturing and kind, he is not.
Selwyn gives me a stern glare. It reminds me of an unimpressed school teacher.
“When you are not fed love from a silver spoon, you learn to lick it from knives.”
An icy shiver runs down my spine. Selwyn spoke in English, and I recognise the quote. It’s from a book by Lauren Eden, I believe.
The words have whipped up a storm in my mind. I’m seeing Llywelyn knitting stuffies. I’m thinking of the man who groomed him. I’m reflecting on Tae and the idea that Llywelyn took him in to keep him safe.
“That’s what he should have been,” I state. “But he was shaped by being a prince in a dangerous court.”
A flicker of surprise crosses Selwyn’s eyes. Yeah, I am smarter than I look. Though, I probably shouldn’t have allowed him to see that.
He doesn’t mention it. He merely continues his lesson.
“Omegas fulfil a role in a pack. Alphas fulfil another. Alphas are dominant. Pack leaders. Protectors.”
Okay, so being an omega is more than being able to bear children? It is also to do with pack dynamics and hierarchies? I nod my understanding, and Selwyn continues.
“Omegas have heat cycles. Like dogs and cats. A breeding cycle.”
Oh god. This is making me want to blush for some reason. But I just about manage to keep my expression attentive and nothing more.
“Amongst wolf shifters and other paranormals that have male omegas, the males are no longer fertile, but they still experience heats. Periods of intense need. The theory is it helps form pack bonds.”
That makes sense. I’m sure I’ve read that’s why humans are so horny. Sex brings us closer together. You are more likely to save someone you are banging from a sabre-tooth tiger, than a stranger. Sex is evolutionary glue that stuck tribes together and ensured our survival.
“I suspect the night Llywelyn was very eager, was a heat,” Selwyn says calmly.
Damnit, now I am blushing. This is awkward as hell. Do I really have to sit here and discuss intimate details about fucking his brother? When I first babbled everything, it was under threat of imminent death and it didn’t seem embarrassing at all. But now everything is calm, it is going to be awful.
Selwyn gestures towards the book, lying innocuously on the side table. “According to the writings, omegas have a mating gland on their neck. Right where you bit him.”
My cheeks are on fire. Some professional I am. But actually, this is good. It helps my cover. Selwyn will never think I’m a dangerous secret agent, now that he is seeing me all flustered.
“You’re are not an alpha, not even latent traits, since humans don’t have them. So you haven’t fully mated my brother. But you are dominant enough to have formed a bond.”
Brown eyes fix on me and my heart thumps. Ethan, the namaste-yoga-dude, doesn’t have a dominant bone in his body.
The hairs rise on my arms as Selwyn and I stare at each other. I cannot see any suspicion or alarm in his eyes. He has seen my true nature, but not anymore of me. And there are a million reasons why a person might hide their true self.
My lungs remember how to breathe. And I allow myself to relax. Now my mind can process everything that Selwyn has told me.
I let the information percolate. So, the theory is, Llywelyn is genetically a sub, and I’m enough of a dom that he has latched onto me? Is that what we are going with? I hate how much I like the idea. A contract that is not on paper, one that doesn’t only exist in the club or for however long a relationship lasts. A beautiful boy who was literally born a sub and wants to be mine forever? It sounds too good to be true.
“I didn’t bite him while he was …in heat.” The unfamiliar term trips on my tongue. “I bit him before.”
