Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
But he had no choice but to agree to Mr. Cleghorn’s proposal. The alternative was starving to death. And as miserable, defeated, and betrayed Lucien felt, he wanted to live.
So marrying Mr. Cleghorn it was.
The ceremony was a small, quick affair. It seemed strange to Lucien that he could even get married at all. He’d been considered a child just a few weeks ago. But per Kadarian law, he was considered of age now. He could marry a married man thirty years his senior because that man was an alpha. Alphas could do so many things omegas couldn’t, including having several spouses. It sickened him, the unfairness of their society, but he knew better than to complain. Complaining didn’t do anything. It was what it was.
All he could do was try to make the best of his situation.
But it was still difficult to hold his head high when he saw the disgust, the scorn in people’s eyes. Sometimes there was pity there, too, and it was almost worse. Mr. Cleghorn’s first spouse, Vagrippa, barely seemed able to look at Lucien, her expression pinched as she looked at some point to Lucien’s left whenever she addressed him. She clearly wasn’t happy about her husband’s decision to take a second spouse.
It was understandable, really. Vagrippa had recently given birth to a baby girl, and what new mother would like the attention in her family shifted from her and her baby to the ruined omega brought into her home by her husband? Lucien could feel her disdain and dislike with his skin, and he tried to make himself scarce whenever possible. He didn’t feel at home in the Cleghorns’ mansion. He felt like an outsider—he was an outsider.
Not that he was complaining. He knew it could have been worse. Much worse.
Mr. Cleghorn was kind. He was kind enough to take Lucien to a doctor and buy him the suppressants the doctor recommended. Mr. Cleghorn didn’t seem to have any carnal designs on Lucien.
It was a relief, but at the same time, it made Lucien feel even more soiled and unwanted. Of course Mr. Cleghorn didn’t want him. What self-respecting alpha would want an omega who’d been used and rutted into by a dozen of alphas? Alphas liked pure, untouched omegas. Modern alphas might claim to support omega rights and designation equality, but everyone knew that deep down, all alphas were very possessive and territorial. They couldn’t stand the thought of their omega having been taken by another alpha in the past, much less by a platoon of them.
It was fine. It was fine, really. He shuddered in disgust when he imagined Mr. Cleghorn—or any other alpha—coming closer to him than a step.
And that was something of a problem. Despite not remembering clearly what had transpired during his first heat, Lucien seemed to have developed a strong aversion to alphas. He didn’t like being alone with them. He didn’t like talking to them. Even the fifteen-year-old Royce made him uncomfortable and tense, unable to relax in his company, despite Royce being on suppressants. Alphas repelled him.
Well, not all alphas.
Mr. Cleghorn’s younger boy was all right.
At first Lucien had felt a little annoyed and exasperated: what teenager would like having a little kid tagging along wherever he went? But Aksel was so refreshingly honest and protective for such a small boy that Lucien found himself reluctantly charmed. The boy was beyond adorable when he insisted that he was an alpha.
Lucien knew he was. Aksel might have still been a child, but his innocent scent already had that musky undertone all alphas seemed to have. But unlike the scents of grown alphas, Aksel’s didn’t make him tense up. His innocent touches didn’t make Lucien want to run away. Aksel was just a sweet kid, his unfortunate designation notwithstanding. Aksel was safe.
His childish scent-marking amused Lucien, instead of repelling him. Aksel’s touch made him feel less alone in the world. The truth was, their species was very tactile. Omegas in particular had strong tactile needs; they biologically needed a pack alpha to feel content. Lucien’s father had used to scent-mark him and it’d made Lucien feel so grounded and safe. Now the mere thought of allowing an alpha—any alpha—such intimacy left him cold. Alphas weren’t to be trusted, his hindbrain insisted. But his body still needed it, needed the comfort, no matter how much the idea of allowing an alpha close repelled him.
But Aksel was the sole exception. He was a child and Lucien’s body didn’t see him as a threat. To Lucien’s relief, Aksel’s touch also soothed his need for an alpha’s comfort. It was the only thing that made him feel less broken. Less lonely. Less unwanted.
God, how pathetic was he? To take comfort in a boy a decade his junior? Lucien had never hated being an omega more. He hated himself for still needing an alpha so badly that he allowed the younger boy to crawl into his bed and snuggle up to him at night. He was allowing Aksel to treat him like a plushie. It shouldn’t have felt so comforting, regardless of Aksel’s age. He was still an alpha. Nothing about alphas was comforting.