“You and that drippy little omega are in for it later,” she whispers.
She straightens and sniffs, “Dinner smells wonderful. What did you make, Zilas?”
I grin, calmness spreading through me.
THE NEXT MORNING, WEwake to a firm knocking echoing up into the omega’s nest. Azane and Ink are already disappearing through the door.
“Um,” Tristan mutters sleepily, “should they put on clothes?”
“To murder someone?” I ask, yawning, “Probably.”
He chuckles.
I roll out of the nest and hold out my hand to him. He smiles sweetly and takes it. He pauses, gingerly pulling trousers over his caged cock. I grab mine and tug them on quickly. Wehead for the spiral staircase, hearing voices float up from the open door below.
However, by the time we hit the main floor, Azane and Ink have shut the front door. Azane is holding a bright red bag cradled in her arms.
Tristan squeals in delight. “My coffee!” He hurries forward.
“Everyone, in the kitchen right now!” he demands. “As these sneaky alphas tell us how they got my beans and equipment!” He nods at the bag that Ink holds.
I raise my eyebrows and wait for their reaction, but as they smile and head in, I relax and follow.
Tristan unpacks the bag. A metal grinder type thing emerges and what looks like a tall, slender teapot. He opens the top of the red bag, and an intoxicating aroma, similar but not quite his scent, surrounds us.
He pours something out, dark pellets, that look a lot like lineeri scat honestly, into the top of the grinder. The lid goes on and Tristan does indeed grind it. He uses the sink to fill the bottom of the teapot thing, adding a metal piece, and filling it with the ground scat. The top of the slender teapot is screwed on, and he puts it over a burner. He turns with the widest grin on his face.
I look to my alphas, who both have gentle looks on their stern faces. I grin at that, again overwhelmed with where my life has taken me in such a short time.
“Now we wait,” he says, heading to pull out mugs. “Do you have some kind of sugar?”
We look at him blankly, so he clarifies, “Sweetener?”
“Oh, we have our Setias speciality–glohas syrup,” Azane offers, walking to the refrigeration unit.
As she hands him the glass bottle, she clears her throat. “There’s something we need to speak on, Tristan.”
He freezes mid-turn. “What? The way you said that makes me nervous. Is something wrong?”
Ink purrs immediately as Azane answers, “No, no. Nothing.” A pause. “Just... we would like your approval to bond fully. During your heat. But you won’t be in your right senses, necessarily, so we want your approval now.”
“What does that mean, exactly?” he asks as he cautiously goes back to making his ‘coffee.’
“Zatura’s mark,” Inken offers, “We’d bite you, sealing our bond. And you’d mark us too. They will stay as permanent reminders of our connection.”
“Sure,” he answers, turning back to the odd teapot.
“Sure?” Azane questions. “Do you not want to know more? Or what it means exactly?”
“No,” Tristan says flatly, lifting the bubbling teapot off the stove. “I was all in when I signed the contract and got beamed in a billion infinitesimal pieces across the universe. Whatever, bite me, sounds good.”
Azane’s shocked face turns to me and Inken, who has sat down next to me. She lets out a low chuckle as I shrug.
The pretty clinking of one of the metal spoons in the mugs somehow makes my tension drain away. Tristan turns, placing our teacups down and watching us expectantly.
It smells good, that’s true. But the seeds looked like shit. I lift my cup and sip though.I’m not about to be an ass to one of my pack.
The hot liquid is dark and has a touch of bitterness, but is silky in my mouth. There is a nuttiness that is wonderful and the hint of the glohas syrup’s sweetness.
