Page 10

Xander

X ander’s gaze drifted toward the door Shiva had disappeared through moments ago, a flicker of impatience tightening his jaw as he wondered what could possibly be keeping him. He pushed to his feet, a restless energy churning within him. He didn’t know why he was nervous, why his hands felt clammy or why his heart hammered against his ribs like a drumbeat. He had thought about this a thousand times. And each time, he came to the same conclusion—this was the only solution.

If he didn’t do this, if he didn’t put distance between them, he knew exactly what would happen.

He would break.

He would give in to the urges clawing at his insides, the reckless desire that whispered for him to fucking drag Ersa back into his bed and fuck him until he screamed his name. Seeing the mark on Ersa’s arm—the dark bruise his claws had left—was like a slap of cold water. It was stark proof of how far he’d let himself go. Ersa hadn’t complained when it happened, but Xander knew he would if he touched him again. Nath had eventually become wary of him. Even the service omegas he’d been with never returned for the second time, no matter how much money he offered them.

They never returned.

Xander sighed. He had to find an alternative soon. If all his focus was on another omega, he wouldn’t have time to think about Benjn’s nanny.

“Sorry about that,” Shiva said, taking his seat. “I had an emergency.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything is fine,” Shiva said with a reassuring nod. He gestured toward the couch with one hand while the other held the e-reader, its screen glowing faintly. “Shall we begin?”

“Yes,” Xander murmured, returning to the couch. Once settled, he hesitated, his fingers brushing against the fabric of his pants as he glanced up. “About last time…”

Shiva grimaced as he lifted his hand to stop him. “Our last session didn’t end on a good note. I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to pressure you. My job is to make your life easy and manageable, not stressful. I’ve made a list of ideas we can try.” Shiva’s gaze dropped to the e-reader, his fingers dancing over the screen.

“There’s no need for that. I’ll hire a companion omega.”

“What?” Shiva looked up, the shock in his eyes discomforting.

Xander pulled on his clothes self-consciously as he spoke. “I might have overreacted the last time. I didn’t understand what you were trying to do.”

“Now you do?”

“Yes. Something happened that changed my perspective,” Xander replied, his tone deliberately vague, avoiding any mention of the intimate moments he’d shared with Ersa. Those were meant for him and Ersa, no one else. “What do I need to do?”

For a long, heavy moment, Shiva simply stared at him. Xander wasn’t known for changing his mind—ever—but this time, the weight of the situation demanded it.

“Shiva?”

“Uh… yes, of course. Sorry, I’m just… a little caught off guard,” he admitted, his voice tinged with disbelief. His lips curved into a slow, approving smile as he added, “I never imagined you’d actually change your mind.”

“It’s important,” Xander said in a clipped tone.

“Of course,” Shiva said, his gaze drifting down to the e-reader in his hands. Without looking up, he spoke, “Finding a companion omega might seem overwhelming, especially given your lack of experience with omegas. I’ve spent a great deal of time carefully considering the best way to make this as stress-free as possible and came to the conclusion that engaging in primal mate play is the best approach for you.”

Xander stared at Shiva blankly. Play what? He’d never heard of that before.

Shiva laughed. “It sounds weird, I know, but it’s perfect for you. A primal, which refers to the alpha, chooses his playmate through smell or sound compatibility. A piece of cloth or scarf soaked with the omega’s scent is sent to the alpha, and they find out if they like it. Those who are sensitive to sound listen to a recording of the omega’s voice. If there is a match, they meet and play. I thought since you’re very sensitive to scent, we could do a scent compatibility test before you meet the companion omega. That way, we can find someone you really like. The Omega Placement Agency is open to suggestions when it comes to helping omegas get placement. They won’t have any issue with the process.”

“That’s it?” Xander asked, his voice laced with disbelief. “It sounds easy.”

“Yes. You wouldn’t respond well to a complex situation, and the last thing I want is for you to grow frustrated. I’ll send you a link to their site,” Shiva said, his fingers gliding over the screen, probably sending him the link. “You can do some reading, get a feel for the primal way of life, and see how they interact with their omegas. There’s a wealth of fascinating information on there.” He tapped the screen one last time before lifting his gaze, his lips curving into an encouraging smile. “If you’re open to it, I can submit a job listing on the Omega Placement site today, and we can see what happens from there.”

“Okay. The sooner we start, the better,” he said, pushing to his feet. Shiva followed suit, placing the e-reader on the table as he walked him to the door. “I’ll see you in our next session.”

The door slid open, and they stepped outside, his voice carrying a note of anticipation as he said, “I hope we’ll have a few scent samples for you to try by then.”

Xander gave a curt nod and strode toward the waiting pod. As soon as Hicks spotted him, he tapped the panel, and the door slid open with a quiet hiss.

As he sank into the back seat of the pod, he pulled out his connector from his pocket. With a swipe of his finger, the screen flickered to life, and he immediately navigated to the primal site.

“This looks normal,” Xander mumbled to himself.

“Did you say something?” Hicks asked from the front.

“No.” Xander cleared his throat, stealing a quick glance at Hicks before refocusing on his connector. He wasn’t sure what he had expected—something provocative—but what greeted him was surprisingly innocent. Flowing script scrolled across the screen, weaving poetic descriptions between delicate silhouette drawings of couples engaged in simple, everyday activities: hands entwined, lips meeting in a gentle kiss, sharing a meal, strolling together in the distance. It was understated. A stark contrast to the primal intensity he had imagined.

Intrigued, Xander delved deeper into the site, eager to understand more about primal mate play. His gaze skimmed over the short description, and as he read, something within him stirred. Many of the behaviors described—the possessiveness, the instinctive need to mark his mate, claim, and protect—were things he had longed to do with his bond mate. He just hadn’t realized that other alphas shared the same primal urges.

Being a primal was about giving in to those deep-seated desires. And the greatest desire was to find a true mate, an impossibility since mates didn’t exist anymore. Instead, primal alphas sought fulfillment through playmates: omegas who shared their yearning for true mates. These omegas willingly signed up, hoping to be matched with a compatible alpha. Just as Shiva had said, compatibility was determined by scent or even the resonance of a voice.

“We’re here,” Hicks announced, jolting Xander from his thoughts. He blinked, momentarily disoriented. He had been so engrossed in what he was reading that the journey had slipped past unnoticed. With a deep breath, he shut off his connector and made his way out of the pod. As the door slid open, he turned to Hicks and said, “Did everything go well?”

Hicks quickly nodded. “The service omega will be here an hour before your heat as you requested.”

“Thank you,” Xander said. A sense of relief settled over him. He’d been sure Hicks wouldn’t find anyone—the odds were always slim. But if someone had agreed to come, at least his heat wouldn’t be a miserable, solitary ordeal. Xander hated spending his heats alone—the emptiness, the frustration—but sometimes it happened. This time, though… this time, he dared to hope things would go well.

As he moved through the house, Xander caught sight of Vina crossing from the sitting area to the cooking station. His gaze drifted toward the sitting area, the sudden need to see the Ersa almost overwhelming. Xander curled his fingers into fists, reminding himself that he had to stay on course—keep his distance from Ersa. He gave Vina a nod as he turned for the stairs.

Vina dipped her head in a respectful bow.

“Welcome back, Master,” she said smoothly, then added, as if reading his mind, “Ersa went to meet an old friend from the commune. He said he wouldn’t be long and would be back before Benjn woke up from his nap.”

Xander nodded. He took the stairs two at a time, his heart pounding. A strange, thrilling satisfaction coursed through him—the simple fact that Ersa had told Vina to tell him where he was going felt like the sweetest kind of submission, and it set something dangerous simmering inside him.

At the top of the stairs, Xander stopped, pressing his forehead against the cool wall. His breath came fast and shallow, the need to claim and possess rising like wildfire beneath his skin. He hummed low in his throat, trying to ride out the surge, willing it to ebb, but it only grew stronger. The sharp pulse of desire tingled along his spine, his muscles tensing as his body betrayed him. His cock stirred in his pants, and he bit back a curse.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. He didn’t need this—not now. He was barely holding on as it was.

With a heavy, frustrated sigh, Xander pushed off the wall, raking a hand through his hair as he made his way toward the door.

When he reached his office, he strode to his desk with the intention of burying himself in work, hoping the familiar routine would silence the emotions gnawing at him. But as he settled into his chair, his fingers hovering over the screen, the intricate design shimmering, his mind refused to engage.

Irritated with himself, Xander pulled out his connector and idly browsed through a few sites, his mind only half-engaged until he found himself back on the primal site. Curiosity tugged at him, compelling him to delve deeper into what it truly meant to have a playmate. As he scrolled, he reached a section displaying various symbols of claim—objects alphas used to symbolize their connection with their chosen omegas. His gaze snagged on one image, his breath catching slightly. With a flick of his fingers, he clicked on it, and the image expanded across his screen.

A thin collar around an omega’s neck gleamed in the soft glow of his screen. It was crafted from xynite, a rare and precious metal. Its dark sheen gleamed in the image, smooth and lustrous like polished marble. Xander’s chest tightened as he took in the intricate details of the chain that lay between the omega’s pecs to wrap around his waist. The chain links had tiny spikes that bit into the omega’s skin, as if an alpha had sunk his claws into him. Xander’s nails itched to lengthen into claws at the sight of the image. His eyes crawled over the omega’s torso, following the chain to his collared neck. The delicate engravings, the subtle strength of the design, were breathtaking. Xander twitched, an unfamiliar heat spreading through him as he imagined it encircling a certain omega’s throat. His mind went wild, supplying him with sneak peeks of the collar around Ersa’s neck and the chain dangling between his ample mounds, slightly hidden beneath his shirt.

Shit. Xander shook his head as if to dislodge the image from his mind. He forced himself to picture something else, envisioning the sleek collar encircling a faceless omega’s throat, but the image wavered, slipping through his grasp no matter how hard he tried to hold on to it. Frustration coiled in his chest as Ersa’s image filled his mind.

“I must be losing it,” he muttered, dropping his connector on the desk, and turned to the screen. Xander eyed his waste bot design, waiting for his creativity to kick in, but nothing happened.

With a sigh, he closed the file and opened a blank canvas, intending to start afresh. But as his fingers moved over the interface, sketching new lines and curves, his hand instinctively shaped something else—something intimate. It wasn’t as sensational as the collar. It was a wristband—a delicate, close-fit band. At its center was a small padlock clasp—a silent declaration of his possession, its key meant for only him.

Xander leaned in, excitement thrumming through his veins as he added more details to the design. His imagination ignited, sending a rush of energy through his veins. When he finally leaned back, the completed piece spun in a smooth, 360-degree rotation on the screen, stirring an unfamiliar warmth in his chest.

Then, as realization crashed over him, he let out a quiet curse and dropped his head onto the desk.

What the fuck was he doing?

He couldn’t give Ersa the wristband. He had no right to claim the omega—not in any way. And yet, here he was, crafting something that spoke of possession, of belonging. His fingers twitched, itching to delete the file, to erase the evidence of his foolishness.

But he couldn’t.

No. It wasn’t that he couldn’t delete it. He didn’t want to.

Because it feels good , Xander thought, softly groaning into the polished wood of his desk, lamenting his situation. He lifted his head and stared at the design longingly.

With a shake of his head, he shut down the wristband design and reopened his waste bot project, forcing himself to focus. Hours slipped by as he finalized his design, the glow of the screen casting long shadows across his desk. By the time he was done, half the night had passed. With a weary sigh, Xander pushed back his chair, the legs scraping softly against the floor. Exhaustion settled heavily on his shoulders as he made his way to his room. Though when he reached the room, instead of going to his bed, his feet carried him toward the nursery, his movements careful and quiet.

The soft glow of the night lamp cast long, gentle shadows across the room, bathing everything in a warm, golden haze. Xander’s eyes were drawn immediately to the small bed against the far wall. Still, he forced himself to walk to the crib first, his heart pounding as he peered down at Benjn. The tiny rise and fall of the cub’s chest was a comfort, and Xander lingered, brushing a light hand over the blanket. But his senses, his entire being, were attuned to something— someone —else.

The soft sound of breathing pulled his gaze toward the bed. The omega lay curled up, his face peaceful in sleep, his blond hair tousled and spread over the pillow. The faintest hint of his scent filled the room—warm, familiar, and utterly intoxicating. Xander’s muscles tensed with the effort to resist the pull of it. He stood there, still and silent, listening to the soft, steady rhythm of Ersa’s breath, his chest tightening with the ache of wanting something he knew he couldn’t have.

He forced himself to turn away but paused at the door, his fingers rolling into fists. He wanted to stay. God, he wanted to stay. But the sting of rejection was still a fresh wound, with a slow shake of his head, he walked out, closing the door softly behind him.