Page 109 of His Stolen Omega

His eyes were sealed shut, and he had no control of his limbs. When a familiar hand brushed through his hair, he leaned into it as much as he could, sighing when soothing pheromones swept over him, and the smell of white lotus encased in frost had him emitting a pleading sound.

One meant to ask for comfort.

Safety.

Elm was too out of it to be rational, falling back on instincts. His body recognized his alpha, called out to him in a way he’d find pathetic and needy if he was fully awake and cognizant.

“Not yet, treasure,” Levi told him, continuing to pet him as he spoke. “A little longer. Be patient. I’d rather you stay asleep for this and your punishment.” His tone altered when he spoke to someone else. “My Possessio is too strong for your drugs and my pheromones can only put him back under for so long. Hurry. Or it won’t just be the first doctor’s brain matter sprayed all over the floor.”

Whatever that was about, Elm didn’t want to know.

He listened to his alpha and let sleep take him yet again.

* * *

Elm was lying on his side.

A burning sensation behind his ear had woken him. It was sharp and hot, and he whined and then bared his teeth, instincts torn over what to do. His body felt like lead, and he could do nothing when something poked at that torn spot. There was a pressure followed by an odd scraping, and he was gearing up for a pheromone attack when soothing alpha ones coaxed him into standing down.

“I’m here,” his alpha’s voice cut through the pain. “Don’t be afraid. You’re strong. You’ll take your punishment like an obedient omega, and then we can go home. Isn’t that right, Elm?”

Elm?

Punishment?

Had…had the alpha ever called him by only his first name before?

“Sleep.”

Good omegas listened to their alphas.

* * *

Buzzing.

Annoying, never-ending buzzing.

It was coming from somewhere off to the side, irritating and disturbing him. Elm felt tired. Wanted to keep resting.

But the sound was driving him half mad.

It was familiar in a way he couldn’t put his finger on, a way that made him think he probably should be able to place the source.

“Should we give him the traditional crest?” a man asked, the question not directed to Elm.

“No,” Levi spoke, and Elm realized the alpha was standing over him, fingers combing through his hair again. “He belongs to me, not the White Frost. The only mark he’ll wear is my own.”

“Understood, Dominus.”

Lips brushed against Elm’s, there and gone in a flash. “Soon. We’ll be together again soon, omega.”

* * *

Bright light spilled in through the window and Elm groaned and rolled over, giving the sun his back. His tongue felt thick in his mouth, the soreness in his muscles slowly breaking through the heavy blanket of sleep.

He blinked, finding himself in bed at the lodge, and tried to process why things felt…off. Was it because the space next to him was empty? The clock on the end table said it was one. It was rare for Levi to allow him to remain in bed past noon.

Elm sat up, the blanket falling into his lap, and rubbed at his tired eyes.