Page 87 of His Stolen Omega

Sometimes people needed more.

Art was his escape. His pathway to being seen. He poured parts of himself into his work for others to look at and specifically pick apart. If they discussed it, if it moved them, if they thought about it later, that meant he’d done his job right.

It meant he’d made an impact.

That on some level, he mattered.

His entire life, he hadn’t gotten as much personal attention from anyone as he had these past months. It was messed up and twisted, wrong on so many levels, and Elm acknowledged that maybe he wasn’t as stable in the head as his family always believed him to be because…At some point, he’d stopped hating it in its entirety.

Did he want to be locked up and have his freedom taken away?

No.

But…Things could be a hell of a lot worse. If Levi had left him in Fiora’s hands, they would have been. Yet the alpha hadn’t done that.

Levi was attentive, almost to the point of being overbearing. Intense in a way that made Elm feel like he was walking around naked half the time. Mysterious and vicious and cruel and shockingly beautiful.

Elm wasn’t going to get answers tonight. Whatever secret motive Levi may or may not have, he’d only reveal it when he was ready. There was nothing Elm could do, and pushing the issue, fighting with the alpha and getting heated, would only hurt him in the end. Regulating so his body was his again was far too important to risk on a what if or a maybe.

The chaotic swirling in his chest was dying down. He’d managed to damped his pheromones and had shut off the aggressive ones.

“Does it still hurt?” He opened his eyes and met the alpha’s.

“It’s fine, omega,” Levi said. “Everything is fine now.”

Elm held his breath when the alpha approached, remaining still when he reached up and cupped his cheek.

“You’re not alone anymore,” Levi practically whispered.

Chapter 21:

Levi seemed to be giving Elm the space he needed the next couple of days. He was still around for meals, and they shared the same bed, but after breakfast, he’d begin work either at the dining table or the couch, while Elm was free to roam about the lodge as he saw fit.

The place was practically a palace. There were so many nooks and crannies, so many rooms—some packed with enough odds and ends to keep him distracted all day—that Elm quickly forgot all about the semi fight the two of them had had. He found the solitude…enlightening.

On the one hand, it was nice being able to move about on his own again.

On the other, there was a comfort in knowing the alpha was still present in the building. That all Elm had to do was call out to him, and Levi would come.

And he would.

There was no question about that in Elm’s mind. If he asked for the alpha, or asked for anything from him, the Leviathan would give it.

The second level seemed to be where most of the entertainment stuff was kept. There was a fully stocked gym, a games room with billiards, darts, and a poker table, a home theater, and some more specific settings.

One space was filled with musical instruments. Another dusty hunting trophies. He’d peeked his head into a library, a gallery room—where he’d pondered over whether or not the paintings on the walls were done by Levi’s mother—and a dressing room lined with garments in all shapes and sizes.

He’d picked through them for a bit, intrigued by the lack of dust literally everywhere except where the old taxidermy was kept. A thorough cleaning crew must come at least once a month for the place to be so spotless. It didn’t seem like Levi came here often, so it was odd that he took such good care of the things here.

Then again, considering it was Leviathan Morningstar, that shouldn’t be all that surprising.

On day three of his explorations, Elm stumbled on a small room tucked into the way back, the door almost hidden beneath a stairwell that led to a random loft space. Inside, he’d found a cage with a velvet cushion within and a few toys seemingly belonging to an animal.

At dinner that night, he considered asking Levi about it, but decided not to in case it brought back bad memories.

Day four, he was caught in the act, standing in front of yet another odd discovery, frown marring his face as he peered into the room.

It looked like an average guest room. Unrumpled sheets, smooth curtains in front of the windows. The floor was polished to a gleam, and the desk and closet were empty and waiting. Upon first glance, nothing seemed to be amiss.