Please don’t purr, I entreat him silently. I couldn’t bear it.
“I want us to talk,” he says. “I don’t like to quarrel.”
“You just rutted me like I’m some animal for you to mount,” I bite out, heatedly. “And now you want to talk?”
“I’m in rut. I can’t think straight when I’m hard.”
The excuse used by human males since the dawn of time, I think wryly, but instead, I just let out a huff. As mad and tired as I am, his arms comfort me. They always do.
Damn it. “I don’t want to talk.”
“Then you can listen.” Picking me up in that effortless way of his, he strides over to a nearby chaise then sits down and settles me in his lap.
The insides of my thighs are sticky with dried cum and girl juice.Baby batter, I think irrationally, and suddenly have to fight the urge to weep.
“I want you to know why it is so important for me to breed,” he goes on.
“I don’t care,” I mutter.
“I don’t believe that.”
“I don’t care what you believe.” Now I sound petulant, but fuck it. I’m tired of feeling powerless. Handing over control of some aspects of my life to a trustworthy Dom within agreed, established boundaries and with a safeword is one thing. This is quite another. I’m not in control ofanything. Where I live. Where I go. Whom I associate with. What I eat. What I wear. When I have sex, for fuck’s sake. And now I have to talk when all I want to do is get back to my painting.
Khan’s grip tightens around me, as if he heard my thoughts and wants to confirm them. God, this is all so unfair.
“There’s still so much you don’t know about Ulfaria,” he begins. “And you will learn, in time, but one of the most important aspects is our history. Ulfarri are a warrior species. This planet is rich in resources, and others have tried to conquer it—conquerus—since the beginning of time. To preserve our way of life, our planet, to protect the Betas—Ulf, tosurvive—we’ve had to maintain a big enough army of Alpha soldiers. That army is now dwindling.”
I think back to the rows and rows of golden-headed Alphas standing outside the Golden Palace, and give a snort. “Didn’t look like it to me when we arrived.”
“The ones you saw are the last generation. Alphas are so rarely born to Beta/Beta pairings that, if attacked, we will no longer have adequate defenses in a few suns’ time—unless we manage to replenish the armies we have now. We need Alpha babies. Lots and lots of them. And for that, we need Omegas.”
I’m silent for a moment, absorbing his words. It makes sense. But I still don’t see why I should be the one to bear all that responsibility. Nor could I birth an entire Alpha army even if I were the most baby-mad woman in the world.
“As well as breeding strong Alphas, Omegas have other qualities which are sorely lacking from Altrim—and Ulfaria—since they essentially died out.”
“Such as?” I can’t help asking.
“They are gentle. Kind. Nurturing. They are able to soothe and calm Alphas in ways no Betas can.”
“By spreading their legs?” I scoff.
If Khan is getting impatient with my attitude, he’s not showing it. I have to admire him for that. “While it is true that only Omegas can induce the rut—and slake it, to a tiny degree,” he gives a rueful smile, “that wasn’t what I meant. Beta females can’t calm Alphas the way Omegas can.”
I think about the way I react whenever he purrs to me. How soothing it is. Better than any Valium, oil massage, bubble bath. “How?”
“They hum. My mother used to sing to me. Lullabies.”
He’s never spoken about his parents—or his family in general. I didn’t ask. I figured he’d tell me if he wanted to. I remain silent, listening.
“My mother was one of the last Omegas.” Now he sounds wistful, almost melancholy. I’ve never seen this side of him before. It’s bizarre to watch this huge warrior wear an expression like a little boy’s. He almost sounds like one, too. A sudden unexpected mental image of a little boy in his likeness—our son—flashes in my mind’s eye. I quickly quash it. “She birthed me late, after many, many attempts. Many failed pregnancies.”
I feel a pang of empathy. Losing a child is one of the most terrible things a woman can go through—even I know that. And to be an Omega, with so much importance placed on breeding—the pressure must have exacerbated the grief… I can’t imagine going through that once, let alone several times. “I assume your father was an Alpha?”
“Of course. Beta males can’t breed with Omegas. So yes, my father was an Alpha. One of the finest.” The pride in his tone is unmistakable. “He was slain defending Altrim from a particularly fierce race we call the Chitin. I was barely grown, but at least I was no longer a child when that happened.”
“And your mother?” I’m almost afraid to ask.
“Sickness took her when I was still young. I had barely reached maturity when I had to assume the role of king.”
