Page 13 of The First Omega Made
“D-11A0B,” Noel said, his voice weak and soft.
“How long… What is the year?”
“2893,” I said, but Noel said something else that didn’t translate. Of course, dates would have been different between the planets.
“A thousand cycles, I’ve been gone. That explains it. And the Revulons?”
“All gone,” Vil confirmed.
“And did we finally wipe out the Colthraxians?” I seized up, my heart seizing in my chest.
“What is a Colthraxian?” Noel tilted his head to the side as Vil shrugged.
“You have never heard of this?” The alpha, Shafa, raised a deep, green brow.
“No, who are they?” Noel canted his head, still wary, but I prayed that male never met Sarge.
“They are a parasite. They take your brain and eat it and cripple your body and ride your sentient body while they devour you and speak through you. They are vermin. But if you do not know them—we may have succeeded.” The vicious grin that spread across Shafa’s face made that cold tendril of fear coil in my belly.
As if he sensed something wrong, Noel’s tail swished to the side and curled around my ankle for a gentle squeeze. I’d seen him engage in such things with Nexus but never saw him as the nurturing or caring sort. It did comfort me in a small way.
“I have no knowledge of this creature. But I am curious. How would one get to go to our homeworld? To where we belong.” Noel’s tail squeezed my ankle once more.
“You do not belong. Perhaps Vil. Maybe even Doc.” The way he said my name and how it curled over his tongue made my skin crawl. “Though, you will need to be rectified.”
“I don’t—I’m not omega. I don’t have—” I stammered and swallowed hard. The way I reacted to him made my skin crawl.
“Not now you don’t. I’m not sure how you’re administering your dosages—but it will be so. You are a beautiful male, and I’d offer much for your ovum—provided I had an acceptable beta partner.” I pursed my lips and tensed, every muscle in my body cinching tight.
“I have to go.” I turned and rushed from the room, heat climbing in my cheeks as fast as nausea rose. I wanted no part of that male’s advances. “You handle it. I—”
“I understand. Vil will protect me.” Noel leaned in and whispered, “Go find your mate.”
“My mate?” I frowned.
“There’s no doubt in my mind that there is a bond between you and Sarge. If that is not what you are, I apologize. But seek comfort and stay with him. I don’t like this male, either.”
For a brief moment, I wanted to jerk my hand back and shout. I couldn’t, because Noel was right. Frozen, like a Zelenian starkbeast in an ion beam, I said nothing.
Noel leaned in and pressed his forehead to mine in a strange sort of gesture that brought comfort to me. He took a few deep breaths and smiled—a small thing. “If you can change, so can Sarge. If what this male says is true.”
“Sarge doesn’t want it.” I pulled away and flinched at Noel’s expression. I didn’t know he could be hurt emotionally, at least.
“But he wants you. That can be enough, too.”
I nodded once and retreated.
Chapter Six
Sarge
The moment we entered the ship; I hung by the door to the medical bay long enough to hear his first words. I understood Naleucian better than Noel, even, and the translations Merriel used were only approximate. I was in danger, and, for some strange reason, I didn’t want to die. Not by a Naleucian’s hand.
The irony that I associated almost exclusively with them was not lost upon me.
Every thread of my being wanted to step in, to grab Doc and run away with him. I couldn’t. I couldn’t and I didn’t, so I retreated, going to the only safe space I had—my room. Maybe I could feign illness, quarantine myself out of mold fear or something. Merriel had done a good job of decontamination, but there was always room for flaws. I’d absorbed plenty of Mater Terra horror movies.
By the time I got my panic under control, the door to my room slid open and shut in the blink of an eye—Merriel letting Doc in.
