Page 40 of His Stolen Omega

He’d had a big brother.

He’d grown up with Kian Erskine. They shared a last name, and Kian had taken that sort of thing seriously.

“Fiora,” Elm made himself sound pathetic, weak, pulling back as much of his aggressive pheromones as he could in an attempt to coax her forward. “Please. I don’t think I can control it. I need you to knock me out before it’s too late.”

She ended the call without another word and rushed into the room, already clicking on the holopad in her right hand. The cell door unlatched before she reached it, and she moved to the metal table tucked in the corner, setting the device down to grab a syringe.

“Can you resist a moment longer?” she asked as she stuck the needle in a bottle and filled the vial with a clear liquid.

“Hurry.”

“Going feral won’t be beneficial to any of us. I’ll put you out and then run some tests, figure out what’s going on, okay?” She came over, and Elm sat back against the stone wall, turning some to present his right shoulder to her.

The second she knelt on the mattress, he struck.

His pheromones blasted out of him, targeted, making them even more potent, the syringe slipped from her fingers and he caught it, slamming it into her thigh and pushing the plunger.

She growled and tried to fight back, but the drug was fast acting, and within seconds she was out, slumping into a heap on the cold concrete floor.

Elm tossed the needle and then grabbed her hand, pulling until he could fit her thumb against the scanner at the bottom of the wrist cuffs. Her biometrics were linked, as well as her device, since she’d been in charge of releasing him twice daily so he could use the bathroom.

The cuffs came undone and he stood.

It felt wrong leaving her on the floor like that, so he helped her onto the mattress before snapping one of the cuffs around her arm.

With her out of the way, Elm prowled forward, exiting the cell.

It’d be a good chance to make a run for it.

But it wasn’t freedom he was after.

His mind slipped even further away as he started the hunt.

Chapter 9:

“Two more meetings to go, sir,” Wook informed him when he stepped out of the conference room.

They were at Shimmer Cosmetics, a company that was trying to do a collaboration with them, and needed to rush to the other side of town to make their next appointment with a different company.

Levi had spent the entire week catching up on important tasks he’d put off whilst tending to the synthetic omega, had only just arrived back in the city that morning. He’d showered in a hotel room at the airport, and was looking forward to sleeping in his own bed later tonight. It infuriated him that things could get this far out of hand all because of one person, one irritating omega who was far too ethereal for Levi’s own good.

He’d spent every night this week dreaming about that damn omega. Visions of how he’d looked, rocking his hips up into empty air while locked in that cell, haunting Levi. And more times than he would have liked, he’d found himself absently reaching down to pet the omega’s head, only to recall he was no longer there.

Three and a half weeks was all it’d taken for Levi to develop bad habits and fall behind with work.

The synthetic omega was proving to be more trouble than he was worth, and according to Fiora’s reports, they weren’t any closer to stabilization.

Perhaps he should cut his losses. Destroy the synthetic before he could inadvertently worm his way deeper into Levi’s psyche. He was starting to doubt Fiora’s claims that distance would do the trick.

Though, he did suppose—aside from the dreams and the occasional lapse in judgment where he pet his own thigh instead of silky omega hair—things were mildly better. He’d readjusted to the scent of other omegas, for instance. They still smelled as unappetizing as always, but he no longer felt the need to throw up on them, so that was something.

He also hadn’t woken with a hard-on in days, even when he dreamed of the synthetic naked and dripping.

So, fine. It was too soon to say Fiora was wrong. That didn’t mean he was any less annoyed by having his thoughts stolen and overrun by an omega not of his choosing.

His multi-slate rang just as they made it out of the building, and he answered as he slid into the back seat of the sleek black hovercar. “What?”

“He still isn’t eating,” if he wasn’t mistaken, Fiora sounded…concerned.