Page 33 of The Omega Slave

“A dragon alpha?”

He looked up and met those amber eyes he lusted after. “I’m a nobody,” he whispered, then in a blink, he was off his feet and nestled on Kamir’s lap. It took him a moment to work out how that happened, and then the tears came. A huge unbreathable wave of sorrow swamped him and he cried like he hadn’t since he was ten and his father had dragged him to Ishmael, who was standing by the cages displaying the day’s whores at the Market of All Souls.

Alain and Tomas, his two older brothers, had followed their dad with morbid fascination as he dragged him up the hill. Alain had even cried. Promised Dad he would share all his meals with Tsaria so it wouldn’t cost extra to feed him, but Dad had said Alain needed all the food he could get in his belly to work the fields.

Tomas just clamped his mouth closed and watched.

Tsaria had still been sobbing half hysterically when Ishmael—wanting proof he was unspoiled—inserted his greased finger in Tsaria’s ass, before his family walked away without looking back. He was so shocked he hadn’t moved. He hadn’t understood the comments about making him a man until much later when blood and another man’s spend ran down his thighs, and he was in so much pain he couldn’t move.

That had been the day after the market. Apparently, he was lucky because he got food.

But he’d lived. And pushed every violation down deep inside him until today when, for some ungodly reason, they were all clamoring for the surface.

It wasn’t Kamir’s fault, and yet he was blaming him.

And still he cried. He cried until he was exhausted. Until Kamir had undressed him and taken him to the bathing room,not daring to leave him alone, had cared for him like no one had ever done, and finally tucked him against his side and commanded him to sleep.

Chapter fourteen

Kamir had stayed awake a long time after Tsaria had fallen asleep in his arms, and he thought about all they had found out today, and his own admission.

And…decided it wasfreeing. He was sick of apologizing for what he wasn’t and trying to be something else. Finding out he was an omega didn’t make him less. If anything, it was so validating it made him more.

He knew Rajpur would take more than one person to make it blossom into the kingdom he knew in his heart it was capable of becoming. Veda was essential. But so was Tsaria. He could remain the figurehead if needed, even if it was the last thing he wanted. Change would take time, probably longer than his lifetime, but he was enthused with the idea he could spend that long improving life for his people.

He also knew Raz and Attiker were good people and would remain loyal to a Rajpur free of the yoke of poverty. They had the same ideals in Cadmeera, and had offered shelter and assistance to him when it could plunge them into another war.

He had eight days left to present his animal or innocents would die. There was no point appealing to the ruling assembly. If he had more time, then maybe he could talk to individual members, but he didn’t. He was determined to take them both to Eldara tomorrow, but he wasn’t sure that was the answer. Eldara had admitted she knew nothing about dragon shifters.

Somehow, he thought Tsaria and he had to figure this out on their own. He just didn’t know where to start.

The next morning, they were woken way too early by Jael deciding to jump on their bed. Apparently Mansala had been capable of protecting Kamir from assassins since he was four summers old, but was unable to corral one little boy.

They ate breakfast together and Mansala joined them. A servant appeared to take Master Jael to his lessons at the eighth bell and Jael went eagerly.

“I wish I had viewed learning with such enthusiasm at his age,” Kamir said after Jael had left.

“I wish I’d had the opportunity to learn,” Tsaria whispered, and Kamir winced.

“I’m sorry,” Tsaria said after a moment. “It wasn’t my intention to make you think you were in any way responsible for my life,”

“That’s the thing, though,” Kamir said. “I represent Rajpur. I was an adult while my father was busy warring, and never once did I leave the library unless I was forced.”

“Ishmael was strict,” Tsaria admitted, “but not once did I try to escape.”

“Why didn’t you?” Kamir asked, because this was the first time Tsaria had really shared.

“Because I was willing to trade my body for food and shelter,” Tsaria answered, and sounded as if he was ashamed, which Kamir wouldn’t have.

“No, my love,” Kamir said, reaching for him where they were sitting on one of the daybeds after finishing their morning meal. “Tsaria, you were a child. You did what you could to survive and I’m so thankful for it. Never feel you have to apologize for anything.” Kamir scooted closer and cupped Tsaria’s bent head in his hands and gently forced him to look up.

And then he stilled. Words left him as he gazed into Tsaria’s gray eyes, and his breath caught. He was stunning. Pale brown skin that almost seemed luminescent. Not a hair anywhere on his body, and Kamir had no doubt he had been given the herbs at the pleasure house to prevent it from growing. He knew if given in puberty it would stave off hair growth for many summers.

He was about the same height as Kamir but fit so perfectly against his body as if he were made to stay there. Sleek muscles. Long, talented fingers the memory of which had Kamir’s length stirring in the loose silk salvar pants he wore. “So beautiful,” he whispered, and bent forward, need clamoring at him, but then Tsaria’s words from the night before echoed in his mind. He’d had no choice.

“I desperately want to kiss you, but I would never—”

Lips fastened on his. Glorious, sensual lips and a tongue that slid along them, demanding entrance. Kamir’s body reacted instantly. Heat stole through him, robbing him of the need for air. He opened his mouth and sought Tsaria’s tongue. Shivers wracked him, trembling waves of lust danced over his skin on their way to his groin. Mocking, pulsing, the promise of what he wanted, what heneededmore than his next breath.

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