Page 24 of Shadowlands Omega

I nod, understanding what he means and hating it. This is not how I dreamt of bonding my Omega. Though of course, as Lord of the Shadowlands, I’d never, ever have dreamed or hoped or longed for this. Never.

After securing a band around her upper arm, he guides her wrist to my mouth and instructs me to open. He uses his own goddamn hand to position my fang and I hate it. Hate it. Having to rely on another to bond my Omega properly. My Omega.Mine.I meet Okayo’s gaze and it’s as if we share the same thought at the same time because we both look down at Kiandah’s face.

“She’ll be your Omega, Lady of the Shadowlands, if this works, Lord Yaron — and a criminal besides. The fallout will be…”

“I know.”

Okayo nods. “Then, are you ready?”

“You don’t have to do this,” Horace insists and it’s that insistence that does it for me.

I bite downsoftly. I can feel the moment her blood meets my fang because the venom within my glands surges, feeling cool on the inside of my fang and hot on the outside in a rare combination that’s painful and only soothed when the fang is fully submerged in the flesh of its target, which mine is not.

“That’s enough,” Okayo says, guiding me away. “Let’s see how she handles it.”

I pull back, unspent venom filling my mouth and forcing me to swallow the slightly bitter taste. I don’t like it. I don’t like any part of this. I especially don’t like Okayo administering to my Omega when that responsibility should now be mine, and I truly loathe the way Horace is looking down at her with his head slightly cocked as if he remembers her from somewhere he can’t quite place.

“What is it?” I bark, startling the three medics.

Okayo rounds the bed and pushes me out of the way, leaving Horace to take his place. Okayo is staring down at her wrist while occasionally looking up at Horace, a silent conversation that I hate passing between them.

“Your Lord asked you a question,” Radmilla tuts, having come closer to the foot of the bed. She takes a seat upon it and reaches out to touch the Omega’s foot through the blankets. Like a mom. A good mom, though she never had any of her own children and it’s too late now. Her husband died young, in a battle with Hjiel that took place before I was born and whose casualties caused our two cities to finally sign the Treaty of the South Island. Though there are still lingering tensions and skirmishes among tribes and villagers at the borders, there haven’t been battles between our cities since.

Radmilla’s gaze is soft — and it is never soft — as she stares down at Kiandah, wearing a frown. Her grey hair is unbound down her back. It was once raven-black, though few traces of that remain. Her skin, which holds a pale, peachy hue, is now flushed. She looks like there is much she’d like to say but she manages to hold her tongue, for once. For the most part.

“Is our Lady well?” Lady. Our Lady.

Gods. The warm pride that surges through my chest is wholly unexpected. It pulls and strains, like stitching pulled taut over a wound. My tongue feels bloated in my mouth and my stomach fills withbutterflies. Butterflies. I look down at the female and stroke the back of my hand over her still-dirty cheek. Her face, which had been impassive, eerily so, twitches and turns towards me.She’s mine. Of course she would react to…

Okayo makes a clicking sound. “It’s unclear.”

“Unclear?” Radmilla says, brows furrowing.

The three medics nod. Finn, having pulled a desk over, closer to the bed, seems to be painting small dabs of the Omega’s blood over strips of fabric. He shakes his head. “Her blood is coagulating properly, her temperature has come up and her lungs sound clear — they weren’t before.”

My heart beats harder. Slower, but more forcefully. Does that mean…

“Her heart arrhythmia has also faded. Her pulse is steady and stable,” Okayo says, listening once again to the scope he has placed on her chest. “She’ll make a full recovery.”

“But…” Horace. Fucking Horace. “She doesn’t scent of you, m’Lord.” He turns his gaze to meet mine, but doesn’t hold it for long. I’m distracted from wondering whether Kiandah would find Horace good-looking with his thin build, slick black hair, naturally tanned skin, round face, wide set nose and narrow eyes that I don’t immediately understand what he’s said.Would he be her good boy?“My Lord.” He has spent so many years among high born classes, yet his accent still slips.

“What.” My tone is flat, not a question at all.

“Her external wounds also aren’t closing.” Okayo shakes his head and, beneath his breath, mutters curses. “Her body is using your venom for some things, but not others. And you say she doesn’t have a deterring scent marker?” he asks Horace, though that infuriates me. He could ask me. I don’t smell it, either.

Horace glances at me again with black eyes and rosy cheeks. “No. In fact, she still kind of smells like she’s in heat.”

I growl and feel my shoulders rise. Okayo speaks over my restrained threat. “That’s normal. Her heat cycle only just ended, the scent will clear in a day or two, in which time she’ll be sequestered here anyway, healing. Hopefully Lord Yaron’s venom has healed her most significant wounds. As for the rest, we’ll continue to administer to them. Lord Yaron, you should be relieved to know that it seems you haven’t successfully bonded the Omega, you’ve…sort of bonded her. And at least, the worst of the damage seems to be healing, albeit slowly. Really slowly.”

Relieved?

I hear his words, but they filter to me slowly. So slowly. The trickle of rain droplets over a smooth stone. The warmth in my chest dies, though the butterflies in my stomach don’t.

“It would seem that this Omega has the same problem the Fallen Earth Omega did when Berserker Dragnovic attempted to bond her. It looks like she’s the one calling the shots.” Yes, she does, I think to myself, though I don’t have any clue what Okayo is referring to. “It looks like it isn’t just about whether you’ve chosen to give her your bond. This Omega will need to choose the Alpha she’ll be bonded to.”

Choose. Choice. Desire. The words feel flimsy and foreign to me, and yet, I can feel that warmth kindling in my chest once more, fanned by the urgency to make her mine.

In my reluctance to speak and voice these thoughts aloud, Radmilla steps up to my left shoulder and lowers her voice to a near whisper. “My Lord, you should also know that while you were gone, the Crimson Riders were able to recapture the Omega’s family. They have been returned to the dungeons.”

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