Page 33 of Red River

"River, I'm not saying you’re not submissive by nature. I’m saying you’re not ready to submit to me yet."

My eyes remained fixed on the ground, somewhat mindlessly.

"I want you to want it—truly. With every part of you, in every cell. Not because you feel you must, not as an exchange of services. It has to fill you completely. You need to know it’s right. And to get there, you need to trust me."

"But… I do want it, Archer."

He shook his head. "Maybe I see your heart better than you can right now. You’re in shock from everything—recent events, the move. Feeling attracted to each other doesn’t mean you want to spend your life with me. You’re still unsure, River. I can feel it."

My head spun. I’d been certain Archer would just want to fuck me, without considering my hidden fears the moment I offered myself.

But… he seemed to understand my worries better than I did. It was unexpected. And… nice?

"So, what do you want from me, Archer? Tell me, and I'll try to do it."

"It doesn’t work that way. What I want can't be put into words; it has to be understood and felt deeply. But that takes time, River."

I shifted nervously on the edge of the bed, completely confused, still unsure of what to say next.

"I need a hint, Archer. I have a blank in my mind. I don’t know what you want now. Should I leave, or should I stay?"

"What do you want, River? Truly. Deep down."

I closed my eyes and tried to get a feeling. It wasn’t easy. The last month had been an emotional rollercoaster, leaving no time for reflection. Doing so now felt almost painful, like piercing through a fog. No wonder Archer saw doubt in me. In all this chaos, I couldn’t even make sense of myself.

"I don’t know, Archer. Honestly, I’m lost. I’m scared for the future. I’m afraid for Igor. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to want something just for myself, especially… these things. You know, Thomas was very obese, and we haven’t, you know, in a long time…" I trailed off, suddenly feeling stupid for opening up.

"On top of that, I’m terrified that I’m not the same as I used to be. That you might think it’s a bad deal. That you have five strangers under your roof and get nothing out of it—stuck with an old, useless omega with all his baggage…"

Unexpectedly, tears spilled down my cheeks. The stress I’d been carrying these past days surfaced, raw and suffocating. It was like no one cared, no one saw it. Even coming here, I’d thought,"He wants me to come, he wants me. So I’ll come."But what did I want?

Archer watched me with a look so deep, so perceptive, as if he could see straight into my torn, frightened soul.

A tear fell from my cheek onto my arm, and then he let out a low, soothing murmur—a sound in AO language meant to comfort omegas—then made a small gesture, encouraging me to come closer.

Unsure of what to do, I stared at him for a moment. Then he repeated the gesture. Slowly, I stood and moved toward him as he patted his thigh.

"Sit here, River."

Cautiously, uncertainly, I sat sideways on his lap. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close so that my head rested on his chest.

He didn’t say anything. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

Wow.

A wonderful feeling!

His energy surrounded me, and suddenly, everything felt… lighter.

He simply stroked my hair gently, then his palm slid down my back, massaging it. It was so relaxing, so soothing. In an unexpected way, I felt… calm.

Like nothing could hurt me.

Archer’s embrace was safe—a home, a peaceful haven. His heartbeat had a deep, slow, powerful tone to it.

Blissful silence followed, and gradually, my need to cry subsided.

Archer smelled pleasant—fresh and clean. His body had a completely different scent than Thomas’s. I breathed in his fragrance, savoring it—it resembled the breeze over mountain valleys, the air after a storm, the scent of freshly cut grass. I immersed myself in it, knowing he was on suppressants and that it was probably just his shower gel, yet still feeling drawn to it. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to rest, half-sitting, half-lying in his arms.