Page 22 of Sweet Omega
“I wasn’t talking to myself. I was…” His voice trailed off, his hands visibly shaking.
Shit, Tarymn silently groaned. The last thing he’d wanted was to rattle him, yet somehow, he did.
“It’s fine if you talk to yourself,” Tarymn said quickly, his voice softer than usual. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just came to check if everything was done.”
“Uhh… yes,” Ludiin stammered, fumbling with the edge of the workbench. “They’re done. Thank you… again.”
“Okay,” Tarymn murmured, turning immediately toward the stairs. He didn’t want to rattle the omega any more than he already had. He wondered why he was like that as he collectedhis things and made his way out of the house and into the waiting pod.
“Let’s go, Pitra,” Tarymn said as the door sealed shut with a soft hiss. The beta gave a brisk nod, and seconds later the pod hummed to life, drifting down the residential airway. Tarymn forced his attention to the glowing text on screen of his e-reader, scanning the report for his morning meeting. But the words bled together, his eyes burning from exhaustion. He hadn’t gotten more than a handful of restless hours of sleep last night, and he was fucking feeling it. A dull ache throbbed behind his temples.
Fuck, Tarymn silently groaned, leaning his head against the cool glass of the pod window. His eyelids fluttered shut for a fleeting moment. He wished he could skip work entirely, disappear. But duty called.
The steady hum of the engines filled the cabin as they drifted on. He prayed for a short day, an easy one. But the moment the pod slid into the council’s parking dome, reality crushed that hope. Every slot was filled, the dome buzzing with activity.
“Fuck,” he muttered, sweeping his gaze over the crowded lot. His shoulders sagged.
“I think you should get out here,” Pitra called from the front. “It’ll take me a while to find an open spot.”
Tarymn nodded and stepped out, the artificial light of the dome stinging his tired eyes. He pushed forward toward the council offices, but just as his hand brushed the door panel, a grating voice cut through the air.
“I see the Alpha King’s lapdog is back.”
Tarymn froze, jaw clenching so hard it hurt. Not today. He dragged in a calming breath, reining himself in before he snapped.
Turning, he met Langley’s smirk head-on. As always, the alpha was flanked by his shadows—Pharyi, Biwen, and Gyry.
“Have a nice trip?” Langley sneered.
“Yes, I did,” Tarymn replied politely, ignoring the burning in his chest. “If you’ll excuse me.”
Langley cackled, the sound grating. “Of course. I wouldn’t want you to keep your master waiting.”
A growl rumbled low in Tarymn’s chest. He felt the restraint he’d kept so carefully in check for most of his life splinter. His vision clouded, his pulse thundering in his ears as the alpha inside him clawed to get out. He pivoted toward Langley, his calm snapping. Only for Pitra to slip between them at the last possible second, his body a wall.
“You’re going to be late for your meeting, master,” Pitra said evenly.
Tarymn dragged in a breath, forcing himself to turn away. Each step down the hallway to his office felt heavy, his body strung tight. He was tense, restless, like he was fucking coming out of his skin.
“Fuck,” he muttered as he shoved into his office.
“Are you okay?” Pitra asked.
“I’m fine,” Tarymn said, scrubbing the back of his neck as if he could knead the tension away.
“I’ve never seen you like that before,” Pitra pressed. “What ticked you off? You’ve always ignored Langley and his groupies. Why today?”
“I don’t know. I guess I’m tired.” He dropped into his chair, body slumping against the desk. “I didn’t sleep last night.”
And…I fucked my stepbrother…Tarymn shook his head, because deep down he knew that truth might be the reason his nerves were frayed.
“You only have the council meeting, which starts in a few minutes,” Pitra reminded him. “And then the Alpha King requested a one-on-one meeting. I could cancel it, give you time to rest.”
Tarymn straightened, shaking off the pull of weariness. “No. It’s only two meetings. I’ll be fine.” He pushed himself to his feet, smoothing his palms down the front of his long shirt the itching beneath his skin ebbing, replaced by the cool control he wore like armor.
Without another word, he stepped out of his office, falling into step with the other council members as they made their way toward the meeting hall. Inside, the alphas sat in a semi-circle, facing the raised throne at the center—the seat reserved for the Alpha King.
Deltta entered the chamber a few minutes later, his commanding presence drawing every gaze, but his eyes found Tarymn’s first. A subtle nod passed between them. Here, in this room, Deltta was not his friend; he was the Alpha King, and Tarymn knew better than to blur that line. Still, lately, it seemed he wasn’t doing such a good job of it.
