Page 81 of Knot Their Omega

“What?” Kai is gawking at me.

“What?” I repeat.

“A pack will let go of their Omega and go off and find a younger one and do that shit all over again?” He doesn’t just seem baffled.

He seems disgusted at the mere idea.

“Mhm,” I answer and try not to look so bothered by it. “You didn’t know that? That’s the new ‘trend,’ if you can call it that. Velvet told me about it. The woman from earlier who owns this Haven. I’m not sure if that happened to her or if she truly didn’t find a pack of her own, but she told me that it’s becoming a common practice. It’s not like Alphas stop impregnating Omegas at a certain age. They can do it their whole life.”

“I’m aware of it,” Kai admits but frowns. “But in Japan and other countries outside of America, that’s simply a death sentence. It’s a torture tactic given to Omegas who hurt society in a negative way. The Alphas don’t get scot-free either. Especially if they’re marked.”

“Marked. Right,” I answer in realization. “I forgot about that part. It’s more of an instinctive thing to mark an Alpha, right?”

“Yes and no,” Kai admits. “Generally, they say it’s instinctive, but truthfully, it’s really up to the Omega. The more heightened the connection or chemistry between an Omega and Alpha, the easier it is for the Omega to lay a mark on the chosen Alpha. There’s also the tidbit the government tries to hide under the rug that Alphas have to internally want the mark for it to flesh outand become permanent. If the Alpha doesn’t want it, the mark will fade like any hickey or bite mark. It’s another way of proving if an Omega wants the pack they’ve dedicated to.”

“If that’s true, doesn’t that mean a lot of Omegas who are just in the packs for their benefit can’t mark their Alphas?” I ponder.

“Yes,” Kai answers. “But they try to hide it by biting on the spot or replacing the mark with a new one every few days, giving the excuse of needing to do it multiple times. A lot of Alphas don’t care as much as they should because it’s not something the government focuses on.”

“But if the government did, all hell would break loose,” I mutter. “Hopefully, that won’t be the next request.”

“We’ll have to take our chances,” he admits and even smirks. “Willing to give hickeys, Astraea?”

“I could.” I’m willing to step up to the plate. “Though I’m not very experienced in that department,” I admit.

“You’ve been in a relationship before, yes?”

“I have.” No need to hide that. “But our relationship wasn’t very emotionally connected. It also didn’t last long at all. Aside from that, anyone who came and went in the relationship department was just an appetizer at best.”

He looks intriguingly at me.

“Want to try?”

He says it so calmly, I’m not sure if he’s being serious. A part of me is skeptical, yet the Omega side is all for the idea of leaving a mark on this man.

Just the idea has my body growing hot with this needy sensation, while my mouth seems to pool with saliva the longer I think of even pressing my lips on his porcelain flesh.

“Will I get in trouble if I do it wrong?” I don’t get why the idea of punishment both scares and excites me, but I want to ask just in case. This is all new territory for me, and I’m not sure how to act.

I want to learn…

“Never,” he reassures me and even reaches out to gently stroke the side of my head. The touch is so random, yet I melt further against him with the initiation of such an affectionate move.

To many, it must be deemed simple. In fact, effortless. Yet, this means a lot more than I dare to admit.

The affection I’ve craved for so many years from those who should have shown me more compassion and love.

My dad and his pack did give me hugs and forehead kisses when I was young, but as you get older and inch closer to potential Omega status, the government instructs all males, whether parental or sibling, to “back off,” so it doesn’t throw off our Heat cycles. I think it’s just a way to harden the divide between Alpha and Omega, but who am I to know if it’s their true motive or something not disclosed to us?

His hand further entwines in my hair, lifting it up so casually, like it’s a common occurrence.

“We can do it later,” he whispers. “I already have the moving people on the way.”

“When…” I begin to wonder, but then I dare to believe he called them long before bringing it up. Did he take the chance of me saying yes to his aid, despite the high probability of being declined?“I… I want to try.”

“Yeah…” His response seems slower. Or maybe things are moving slowly in general. Like how he’s leaning over until his face is inches from me.

I try not to respond to the closeness, but it’s a losing battle with how Kai’s scent intensifies—the undertones of sweet apples with cinnamon, spice, vanilla, and even tidbits of pumpkin spice. The best way to describe his scent is walking in Fall with the brisk air, igniting a cozy sensation of warmth and comfort.

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