The bite mark looked awful. As it should.
But she didn’t know that it was perfect.
Brenya had no idea that her mark was flawless and deep. One any male would show off with pride. And one he had earned unexpectedly.
Of all the moments Jules had engineered to produce a specific reaction, Brenya sinking her teeth into his shoulder had never been part of his carefully constructed caretaking.
Her bite had been instinctive—a plea, and an Omega’s enforcement of her standing.
Proving that the best laid plans offered hidden rewards.
Deep down, sheknewshe belonged to him. That he would always take care of her.
And this was only the beginning.
Then there she was, padding quietly into the bathroom, curious and unsure. Peeking from the door to spy him under the spray, Jules exhaling loudly, playing up the relief of a warm shower as suds carried traces of blood away.
Careful not to pose for her. Cock flaccid, harmless.
The shower was just a shower. At least today.
Without a glance at her, Jules bowed his head under the spray to rinse his hair, announcing, “I’ll wash your back, if you like. But I’m almost done if you want the space to yourself. I just need one more minute.”
“But your shoulder…” The click of the shower door opening, timid, naked feet stepping onto the tile. A beguiled woman treading into a carefully crafted web, as she muttered, “You didn’t wash it. Doesn’t it hurt? It’s very swollen.”
Jules gave a small start when she prodded the weeping bite, a little hiss as if her touch had hurt. It hadn’t hurt at all—pain didn’t register the way it had before the Undercroft—but his Omega responded with those wide doe eyes, their link tinkling with female concern.
Dipping his shoulder so she would have better access, Jules lowered himself, allowing her to view the forever impression of her teeth in his flesh. And it worked. Brenya rolled up onto her toes, the female worrying her lip as she saw how deeply she’d forced her bite into his shoulder.
Face repentant, she found more of her justified horror over the Omegas in Central transforming into guilt over her earlier violence. “Mine… the one on my throat, I mean… grew infected. Your skin feels hot. You should…. Can I wash it?”
“That would be sweet of you.” Sweet and very welcome, Jules pleased as he handed her a clean cloth prepared just for this.
Oh so gently, she dabbed at the oozing wound, patting it.
And Jules acted the part of wounded soldier. Every hitched breath timed, every long look of adoration placed at the proper moments. Until she felt he was safe in her care, that there would be no reprisal. That he could be vulnerable with her.
She’d be such a good mother.
Another pass with the cloth, Brenya worrying over nothing. “You should see a medic.”
Every urge to breed his mate tamped down hard so she could sense nothing through the pair-bond but his relief to be cared for. “Iama medic, Brenya.”
“Oh. Right.” He could practically see the workings of her mind as she studied her mark, as she found herself drawn to it the more she tended, the sweet girl licking the edges of her teeth without any idea she’d done so. Right before honey eyes began to dart around his flesh on a hunt for another mark.
Seeking to find the telltale sign that another Omega might have bitten him first.
That instinctive alarm, Jules put to bed quickly. “She never bit me, Brenya.”
“Why?” Adorable surprise, total disbelief that his first wife had not enjoyed such a thing with her husband.
“Perhaps she didn’t love me enough.” Jules felt no shame in such words, though they were not true. Rebecca had loved him, just not… not like Brenya would. Besides, this moment in the warm shower was not about Rebecca; it was about Brenya and what she needed.
And how much Jules adored that she was offended on his behalf. How cute it was that his mate tried to hide it—but the pair-bond didn’t lie. She could hide nothing from him, especially when he had oozed so deep inside her there was no cutting him out.
Not that Brenya had fully forgiven him for the morning, nor the afternoon. “Lucia made it sound as if Omegas bite for control. Maybe Rebecca never needed to control you.”
Careful not to startle her, Jules gently began to wash her arm, making no big deal out of it. “Do you want to control me, Brenya?”
