Page 21 of His Snowbound Omega

“And…If I give you that, through some miracle, you’ll really honor this agreement? I’ll be free to go?”

Never.

“Of course.” Some lies were necessary. “But you go without the child.”

Thorn started chewing on his bottom lip again, not seeming to notice when he broke skin and started bleeding.

Baal reached out and pulled his lip from his teeth, keeping his thumb pressed there so the omega couldn’t start up again. Then he set a stern look on him, silently commanding him not to do it again. When he felt like the message had been received, he finally released him so they could continue their conversation.

“What’s wrong?” he taunted. “Don’t think you could abandon your child?”

“According to this,” Thorn held up the holopad, “it would be your child. I’d have no obligation to it one way or the other.”

He’d admittedly expected more pushback there, had hoped for it even, but he held his tongue and let Thorn feel like they were setting terms they both agreed to.

“I’m staying here,” the omega announced after another pensive moment. “This is my home, and it’s where Aster will expect me to be. I’ll stay until he’s better. If we’re successful before then, there won’t be a need for me to move anyway. And if we aren’t, I’ll give him the house and come to Fae Manor then.”

At least this was still going to plan. Baal had anticipated as much. The omega didn’t know him well enough yet to trust moving in with him. Honestly, forcing Thorn to relocate wouldn’t be beneficial to Baal anyway. He’d meant what he’d said. A content omega, one who felt safe and cared for, was better than one who was on edge and afraid.

Baal aimed for a partnership, not a pet.

Not a broodmare either.

“Practice is non-negotiable,” Baal said. “If I allow you to live separately, you have to abide by certain rules.”

“Which are?”

“No seeing anyone else. If I find out you’ve let another alpha touch you—”

Thorn held up a hand. “That won’t be a problem. There’s no need to bother with threats. I understand what this is.”

“Oh?” He cocked his head. “Enlighten me.”

“You want a readily available bedpartner,” he replied, “one who can provide the possibility of strong offspring. I may not be spectacular in any other part of life, but I know my physical worth.”

Thorn’s brother’s illness wasn’t genetic, and all of his personal medical files consistently gave him a clean bill of health. He was nimble and strong, which he’d proven during the hunt, and clever. His stature was a bit shorter than Baal’s, but he was still rather tall for an omega on Synastry, appearing more like one of their healthier neighbors from Glyph.

He’d make for the perfect mate. If not for his father’s debts and Baal’s vigilance, there was no doubt Thorn would be claimed ten times over by now.

“Quit your jobs,” Baal moved on to the next rule. “I don’t want you working.”

“But—”

“With your current schedule, how do you expect to bereadily available, as you put it?” He snorted. “You barely have time to eat a sandwich as it is. No. Quit. I’ll support you.”

“Until you decide you’re tired of trying for a baby and end our contract?” Thorn glared. “What then? I’m just supposed to go back to the job market and pray I find something? Even you don’t know how long it’ll be before that happens. Before you lose interest. I can’t have nothing to fall back on, alpha, that isn’t—”

“Put the money in the bank.” He motioned to the bag on the floor. “I’m paying your brother’s medical expenses, so you don’t need to use that right now anyway. Put it away, call it a nest egg or an emergency fund or whatever you want. There’s enough there you won’t have to work for years.”

He’d make sure Thorn never had to touch that money.

“Quit your jobs.”

“I’ll quit two,” the omega negotiated.

“Quit all of them,” he insisted, “and enroll at the local university instead.”

Thorn’s brow furrowed. “What?”