Page 18 of Brave New Omega, Part 2

Chapter 18

KATIE

A fter a thorough dowsing with the scent canceling spray, tugging on a new pair of panties, and Loren scent-marking my hair and neck, I’m finally ready to leave the townhouse.

“Are you hungry?” Loren eases the plum colored sports car out of the drive, heading toward Old Fourth Ward. “There’s a great noodle bar that has rooftop seating– you’ll be able to see more of Halvassa from there.”

He grins, reflexively shaking his bangs off his glasses.

My stomach rumbles. All this exercise definitely has me craving calories.

“If noodles here are anything like noodles back on Earth, I’m totally game.”

Loren’s eyes sparkle and he peppers me with questions about food from Earth the entire rest of the drive. In fact, he barely stops his interrogation exception to maneuver us up a flight of compact stairs in the back of the crowded restaurant and across the open roof to a high-top table.

I catch my breath. Halvassa is huge . It’s a glimmering metropolis, dotted with glass buildings reflecting the sun like so many polished medals.

And I’ve clearly only seen part of it.

“So, there’s unique foods for each culture, but there’s also ‘fusion?’” Loren asks, sliding into the chair beside me. Where my legs dangle helplessly, his are firmly planted on the ground. Fucking giant.

“Ah, yeah. But not everything. Like, Asian dishes are often fused with other things– especially across Asian cultures . But you would do an Italian-Japanese fusion.”

Somehow the idea of red sauce and miso makes me laugh. Two things I love that definitely deserve their own space.

“That’s fascinating. Savolinna has several distinct cultural regions. But I can’t say we do much fusion. If you want coastal cuisine, then you just eat coastal cuisine.”

He nods to a waiter and points to our orders. I’ve picked out what sounds similar to Pho with beef shreds and broccoli.

“And we don’t tend to borrow much from our neighboring countries. Kharawyn is… not friendly to us, so we don’t seek to imitate their customs. And their food is bland, more for survival in the mountainous northern climate.” He sips the glass of water set before him. Aside from wine, it doesn’t seem like anyone drinks any other beverage with meals.

“The small free state of Alananda borders the great Burned Desert, but they’re culturally very similar to us. And the nations of the Continent,” he pauses, shrugging. “Half of them have been under embargo for as long as I’ve been alive.”

The waiter sets down a plate of tiny star shaped pastries. They remind me of spring rolls, only the outer layer is thicker and not fried.

“That’s an onion bun, one of my favorites. They are said to be good luck.” Loren nudges the plate toward me. “Try it.”

I pick it up with my fingers, raising my eyebrows at Loren. He just nods, I guess it’s okay to eat these with your hands. Then I take a bite.

Flavor explodes, fresh and rich across my tongue. There are spring onions mixed with mint and basil and some other flavor that’s between parsley and thyme. Like a herb garden with the full body of the onions.

“This is amazing!” I say with my mouth full. His tentative grin broadens into a full smile and he is breathtaking.

“I’m so glad you like it, Katie. You should try the squid sauce.” He pushes a small dish of thick black liquid toward me.

“Squid sauce?” I say, my throat closing. It looks like inky cum. I nearly choke.

“Or not…” he laughs, pulling the sauce back. “More for me.” He grabs his own bun and dips it in the sauce. I close my eyes. I’m not squeamish, but that truly looks revolting.

“So why an embargo?” I ask, trying to distract myself. I crack one eye tentatively open just as Loren licks the tip of one of his fingers.

Holy fuck. I go from my normal amount of horniness to ready to pounce on Loren in public in the span of two heart-beats. Inky fingers and all.

Loren’s nostrils flare and he raises his eyebrows.

“Careful, Love. You’ll wear out your scent-canceling spray, and I still have places to take you.” His voice is thick with his own unspoken desire. His pupils have nearly swallowed his deep blue irises.

I swallow, doing my best to rein myself back in.

“Right. So, embargos.”

“Ah, yes. We don’t trade with countries that traffic Omegas. Or any designation, really, but Omegas are the most sought after.”

“What?” I nearly shout the word.

Omega trafficking ?

Just when I think I could settle here, find a way to be happy and help my sisters be happy, I find out that there are people who human traffic us .

Shit.

Every nerve ending in my body blazes to life. A fierce need to run back to the Conservatory fills me; as though I could stand guard at the gates myself.

Loren stands, just as the waiter arrives with our noodles. He growls ever so slightly, and the poor boy nearly sprints from our table back down stairs. There are a few other couples up here, and they all glance our way then pointedly ignore us. Loren surrounds me, crowding into my space and surrounding me with his chest and arms.

“It’s not something you have to worry about, Katie. First of all, we would never let anyone get within a mile of you. And the Conservatory is as strict as they are because they take keeping Omegas safe very seriously.”

I snort, crossing my arms.

“They are active along the coast, not in Halvassa. I promise you, you and your sisters are safe. No one has been taken from here in years. We work hard to keep it that way.”

He looks at me earnestly. My shoulders sag.

I promised each of my parents I would take care of my sisters. Keep them safe . How can I possibly do that here?

“Loren, I can’t lose them.” My voice breaks. God, how am I going to keep them safe from this ?

He wraps me up in his arms. “I’m sorry, Love. I didn’t think about what I was saying. There’s truly nothing to worry over. The Council of Peers keeps a very tight patrol on the borders. There are even whole naval units whose job it is to monitor trade, hold the embargo, and hunt the traffickers.” Loren squeezes me reassuringly.

“I know some of them. And I would trust them with your safety,” he pulls away, hunching so our faces are level.

“Sebastian Roxborough. A bit of a prick in his personal life, but he’s fiercely protective of Omegas. He’s a Captain of one of the vessels that patrol the coast. I would trust him with your safety. And there aren’t many I can say that about.”

His jaw flexes and he shakes his head.

Something about his massive wall of a chest, and the way his arms still rest on either side of me, like twin parapets, soothes my racing heart.

“O-okay,” I say, taking a deep breath and holding it for a count of four, before letting it slip slowly from between my lips. Layla taught me that trick, and fuck it if always works to calm me down.

“You aren’t the only one looking out for them anymore,” Loren whispers into my hair. “They’re our responsibility now, too. You don’t have to take care of them alone. Managing the Wilder Omegas is now a team effort.”

He nuzzles my neck and I huff a soft laugh.

“It will take a team to manage all of us.”

“Then I shall assemble the best.” Loren leans back, and offers me a gentle look. “Now, my Alpha instinct needs me to feed you. So unless you want me to sit you on my lap and spoon-feed you–which is absolutely an option I am happy to explore–then you better eat your noodles.”

I sigh in mock annoyance. In truth, I am hungry. A thick tangle of worry and dread in my belly has begun to loosen. I’m not doing this alone. Maybe Loren can help me take care of Layla, and Maddie, and Molly Beth and Norah. I slurp my noodles, feeling just a tiny bit more hopeful.

“These are the artifacts we’ve collected over the last three centuries. There wasn’t as much attention paid to Travelers during the warring tribal period.” Loren sweeps his arm in a wide arc, indicating a wall of shelves encased in glass.

To my sweet professor’s credit, he didn’t take me directly to the museum. We first went for ice cream, then he insisted on taking me into a jewelry shop. I refused all of the rings and necklaces he tried to coax me into. But I did point out to him that if he wanted to get me a present for later on then there was a simple pendant of what looked like moonstone in the center with three tiny gems, one blue, one green and one red, in a semi-circle across the top that I liked. Not too flashy, but it just felt right.

He only smiled and tapped something into his phone, before dragging me back to the car and taking me to the University.

I laugh. Loren really is a bonafide nerd. He leads me, hand in hand, through the halls of the museum, pointing out famous works of art, or displays on Savolinnian history. But, of course, we end up in the smaller, backroom exhibit on Traveler artifacts.

It’s just like any museum back home. Except that I know some part of me– of Earth– is on display. It’s eerie, and also somewhat comforting. Of all the places I could have ended up this one is just like home. Well, almost .

Loren has been explaining the history of Travelers in Savolinna for the last twenty minutes. It’s intoxicating, watching him in his element. He commands the space without force or artifice; just charm and eloquence. No wonder he had troops loyal to him. I walk ahead, letting my fingers brush against the glass. There are hundreds of objects here, but I’ve only seen one from Earth: a cameo brooch, encased in delicate gold filagree.

My skin is flushed, and I press my forehead against the cool glass. I’m sure it’s a faux paz , but I don’t care. Loren can teach me a lesson about propriety later.

At the thought of lessons, my gut tightens and a great wave of need fills me. I whine reflexively and Loren’s words stutter to a halt.

I glance back over my shoulder. Loren’s hair flops over his forehead again, his lashes lowered. He’s looking at me, not the artifacts. Heat floods my body, like I’m an embarrassed pre-teen.

Only, I don’t feel shame. I feel hunger.

I can nearly taste the clean fresh scent of him, mingled with the musk aged paper. God, he smells good.

“Omega, you have piqued my interest.” Loren takes a step toward me.

“Oh?” I ask, playfully arching a brow.

“I am a researcher,” he says, finally taking a step closer to me, so that my chest is less than an inch from him. “I observe the Traveler in modern day.”

“Oh, do you? And what do you observe about this Traveler?”

“That she smells like cinnamon and maple. And she’s flooding my gallery with her perfume.”

I let out a breathy “oh.” I still don’t understand my biology. How can just being close to him light such a fire beneath my skin? How can him rambling about dusty artifacts make me want to crawl up his chest and lick the shell of his ear?

“And I observe that this Omega Traveler, one of just five in recorded history, has the same needs as any native Omega.”

Loren runs his fingers lightly up my arm. I shift my weight to my good leg, and realize that I am not just burning up with lust– I am soaked.

“And what do you observe those needs to be?”

I watch the way his lips form words, wanting the feel of them on my skin. Wanting the light glide of his tongue over each tender inch of my body.

Damn it, this wanting isn’t fair!

“Like all Omegas, she needs an Alpha to take a firm hand.” Loren’s hand trails up my neck, to cradle the back of my head. “To show her how beautiful she is, how desirable she is. Not just with words, of course.” He leans in close, hovering over my lips. “But with service.”

I part my lips, inviting him in. Of my three Alpha's Loren is always the gentleman, always hesitating, waiting for me to give him permission.

“Well then,” I say, smirking at him. “Then I guess you should show me how you serve.”

Loren catches my lips in a kiss, pushing me back against the glass display case. He doesn’t hesitate in lifting me off my feet and wrapping my legs around his hips. It’s naughty and exposing, but something about the risk of being caught sends a thrill up my spine.

“Is the student in need of a lesson?” He nips my ear, before sucking on my neck where my pulse thrums just beneath my skin.

“Yes, professor,” I moan slightly on the last syllable. I want to force him to the floor, force him to let me take control and ride him until I’m satisfied.

But I also like this game we have between us– this game that is a give and take. With previous hookups they were all about satisfying my own lust. But this– this feels like more. Not just a need for sex, though that is fucking off the charts. But, a need for closeness. For Loren.

“Good little teacher's pet.” He snakes a hand up my leg to slap me lightly on the ass. Not hard, just enough to get my attention.

“I am going to carry you to my office–”

“But that’s across the quad!”

Loren slaps my ass again. “First lesson: don’t interrupt the professor when he’s giving instructions.”

I clench my legs around his middle.

“Yes, professor.” I bat my lashes at him and he snorts.

“I am going to take you to my office– the one here that I use strictly for artifact research. And you are going to let me carry you without complaint.”

I open my mouth to tell him I’m perfectly capable of walking, but Loren presses his forehead to mine.

“Without complaint– unless you like when I spank you.”

I press my lips into a line. A little bit of spanking is fun, but pain is something I live with every day, and it definitely isn’t a turn on.

“Good, Love. I promise I’ll make the lessons worthwhile.” He kisses me with an aching tenderness, as though reassuring me that underneath this game we’ve started is my gentle giant.

I tighten my legs around his waist, and he grips my ass with both of his hands.

“Mmm, my perfect little Omega. Let’s give you an education.”