Page 62 of The Runaway
“I could what?”
“Refuse me. If you wanted to.”
Connor fought back a laugh, knowing it wouldn’t be appropriate. “I think I already did,” he said. He was well aware that since coming to the Calvet estate, he’d been far from an exemplary omega. He’d argued and panicked and spoken his mind far more than could ever be considered polite. “I panicked during my heat and ran away from you and hid in the corner of the room. I don’t remember exactly what happened next, but you didn’t seem too upset about it.”
The gift of the cup of wine had more or less answered the question about the cheese, so Connor set about cutting slices for two plates, rather than just one.
“Yes, but a panic attack isn’t exactly a deliberate decision to refuse something,” Gabriel pointed out. “I’m saying you could say no to something simply because you don’t like what you’re being told to do.”
Connor looked up at him, a quizzical expression on his face. “You mean like Dante does to Antoine? I mean, he’s not disrespectful, but he’s willing to say if he disagrees with something Antoine is doing.”
“Exactly, yes,” Gabriel said.
Connor frowned. “Well, that’s… Thank you, I suppose. But there’s pretty much nothing you’ve asked me to do that I was particularly opposed to. All the work around the estate is just routine stuff. And everyone has to pitch in and do their part or we end up with not enough food, or the sheep escape, or the bunkhouse is too cold because nobody chopped the wood. Before today, if you’d asked me to go swimming in the creek, I’d probably have said something about it, but I can kind of swim now, so even that wouldn’t be a huge problem.”
Gabriel stared at him for a long moment, then looked away. Whatever answer he’d been expecting, Connor hadn’t given it to him. And that made him feel uneasy. What point was Gabriel trying to make?
Connor finished cutting the cheese and sausage, then handed a plate to Gabriel and settled down on the log beside him. But rather than begin eating, Gabriel seemed to be staring at Connor’s plate. Aware of the scrutiny, but not wanting to comment on it, Connor placed a slice of cheese on top of the bread and took a bite. If he asked if anything was wrong, maybe Gabriel would take the food away? Maybe he’d misread Gabriel’s intentions for dinner after all? Flustered, he reached for his cup and took another sip.
“What do you think of the wine?” Gabriel asked, finally picking up his own food.
“It’s sweet,” Connor said, licking his lips as the flavour rolled over his tongue. “I like it.”
“Do you actually want it?” Gabriel asked. “I mean, you kind of said no before, but I assumed that was because you thought you weren’t allowed to have it, and then I pushed it on you anyway, but maybe you actually didn’t want it? So… Do you?”
Connor looked him over, finding his bashful, worried expression to be adorable. “Yes, I want it,” he said. “I was just surprised. No one’s ever given me wine before.”
“Okay. Good. Just checking.” Gabriel slapped a piece of cheese onto a slice of bread, then shoved the end of the slice into his mouth, and that was the end of the conversation for a while.
???
Half an hour later, most of the food was gone. Connor was still picking over the crumbs of cheese, more because eating cheese was such a novelty, rather than because he was actually hungry. The bottle of wine was more than half empty, the bottle glimmering in the firelight. It was fully dark now, the stars shining brightly in the sky overhead.
Connor was feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time. His initial apprehension about the food had disappeared when Gabriel had offered him more, after finishing his plate and cutting a few more slices. Gabriel’s tension had eased as well, a deep sigh leaving him after he’d finished his first cup of wine. Connor glanced sideways, seeing Gabriel sitting with one leg sprawled out, his plate set to the side, and a contemplative look on his face. Idly, he scratched at the short stubble on his face; he hadn’t attempted to shave since their trip had begun. Connor’s own face was more or less bare. A lot of male omegas never managed to grow any facial hair, and Connor fitted the mould perfectly.
Gabriel’s hair had grown longer over the winter, as well. It hung across his forehead now, making him look younger and less severe. The light from the fire made his skin glow golden, and Connor could see the pale line of a scar across his cheek.
“Can I ask you something?” Connor said. His mind was running in idle tangents as he stared at Gabriel’s features, and the latest direction of his thoughts had brought a question to mind.
Gabriel had been staring at the fire, but he glanced Connor’s way at the question. “Of course,” he answered easily.
“It’s something kind of personal.”
“That’s okay.”
It was? Omegas weren’t supposed to ask questions at all, unless it was about their work, and they certainly shouldn’t be asking alphas about their personal lives. But neither of them seemed to be toeing the line of social convention here. “Why do you never mate with any of the other omegas?” he blurted out, before he could lose his courage. There had to be a reason, and Connor could probably think of three or four of them if pressed, but he wanted to know what Gabriel’s reasons were.
Gabriel was silent for a moment. Connor was half expecting him to say it wasn’t the sort of question Connor should be asking; a polite refusal, but a refusal nonetheless.
“Because none of them have the right to say no,” Gabriel said eventually. “Which means I have no way of knowing if they want to do it, or if I’m forcing them.”
Oddly, the answer was reassuring. “So… it’s not because you don’t want to, then?”
“I’ve just said I don’t want to force them,” Gabriel repeated.
“But there’s a difference between not wanting to hurt someone and not wanting to have sex.” Privately, Connor was shocked by his own comments. Where was all this bravery coming from? The first question had been an impulsive one, but now that he’d got started, the rest of it seemed to just come pouring out of him, like a tap he couldn’t turn off.
“For a long time after I left the army,” Gabriel said, “I felt no desire of any sort. There were too many nightmares haunting me. Too many images of people suffering. That kind of thing tends to leave an impression.”