Page 17 of His Snowbound Omega
“That’s…” He shook his head. “Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
Clearly not.
“Get out,” Baal commanded, and even though it was tempting to pretend he misunderstood and turn on his heels and flee, Thorn stood still while the rest of the mafia walked out of his home.
Leaving him alone with the imposing alpha yet again.
The air shifted, the attraction electric the second the front door shut and the alpha released his pheromones. He wasn’t subtle about it, flooding the room in seconds, so the air became cloying and Thorn found himself drenched in the scent of the alpha.
He gagged and retreated a step, stumbling slightly, a low warning growl from the man on the couch causing him to freeze in place like prey all over again.
“Come here, omega.”
“No way.” He covered his nose and mouth with his arm, but he could already feel his body responding. Alphas and omegas could both release different types of pheromones, and the ones Baal was throwing his way now were meant to coaxa potential bedpartner into submission. The smell both warned him of danger if he didn’t submit and promised comfort if he did.
Thorn hated it. Hated being an omega. There was power in it for some, sure, but he’d always ended up on the short end of the stick in every aspect of life, and this was no different.
“Read through the contract while I’m being nice,” Baal said. “There’s room for negotiation.”
“I told you no. I won’t do it.”
“Then you’ll be accused of stealing from the family and dealt with the way the mafia handles thieves.” He didn’t elaborate on that, but he didn’t really have to. “Your brother will surely die without you to provide for him and—”
Thorn had always been rational and cautious, but he’d crossed the room and grabbed the alpha by the collar before his brain had time to process what he intended. “Don’t. Don’t you dare touch him.”
Baal wrapped his fingers around Thorn’s wrist but didn’t pull him off. Instead, he let out more of his pheromones, the scent intoxicating with Thorn this close. When Thorn tried to release him and retreat, his grip tightened, keeping him in place. “Sign the contract, sweetheart. Once you do, the money in the bag is yours. You can take it straight to the hospital and pay for Aster’s surgery.”
“How do you know about that?”
“I told you, I know everything about you, Thorn. Let me guess, you were going to try begging for another loan later anyway, weren’t you? They won’t be giving you any more loans.” He let him put space between them when Thorn pulled away a second time, settling back on the couch like the king of the castle. As though this was his home and Thorn was the guest. “I’m your only option.”
“Why?”
“You said last night wasall right?” Baal snorted. “Your body is sweeter than anything I’ve ever experienced before. I want it. I’ll have it.”
Thorn moved to the single chair in the corner of the room and sat down, not trusting himself to remain upright. The shock and disbelief were getting to him, and he hung his head, covering his eyes in a poor attempt to pretend the alpha wasn’t there.
Pheromones continued to lick at his skin, tempting him, and he felt his dick lengthen and slick wet his passage. Baal was switching tactics, using targeted lust pheromones instead of coaxing ones.
“Stop,” Thorn told him, then, because he knew he didn’t have any power here, added, “please.”
There was a moment where the alpha considered it, and then the lust pheromones stopped. “Read the contract.”
“What’s the point?” A humorless laugh barked out of him, and he squeezed his eyes shut in defeat. He was trapped. If Baal accused him of stealing from the mafia, the police wouldn’t even get involved. The alpha would be able to do whatever he liked with Thorn anyway. And Aster…Aster would be left alone.
But if he agreed…What did he have to lose, really? His pride? There wasn’t even much of that left. Surely not enough to be missed. His autonomy? What autonomy? Only people with money could afford such luxuries. Freedom wasn’t cheap.
The sex hadn’t been bad. Baal hadn’t hurt him, had in fact taken the time to ensure it felt good for Thorn. It could have been an act, a means to trick him into letting his guard down, but that would mean the alpha had planned this from the start, even before the Hunt, and that notion was ridiculous.
Not much more so than believing the guy had concocted this whole scheme in the early hours of the morning while Thorn slept next to him, but still.
Standing on shaky legs, Thorn walked back over to the couch and picked up the holopad.
The contract was thorough, and the more he read, the higher his anxiety spiked.
Thorn had seen a breeding contract or two in the past when his friends had received them, and they learned about them in school since they were such a common way of life on Synastry, but it felt different this time. Reading it, knowing every clause was meant specifically for him, that the one being bred wouldbehim…