Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Distracted his brilliant mate.
He’d seen the recording of her with Jacques, after all.
How she’d panicked and kicked him fully in the chest when he’d made a mention of the children they would have.
How she’d ran and hidden in the bathroom. How Jacques had aggressively punished her.
Jules savored her rapid-fire mental calculations as his Omega accurately discerned that it was the second time he’d brought up children in the last twenty-four hours. Noted that she avoided the topic as if it might vanish—though it ate up her mental processes, her mind dancing right into his offer with a tentatively spoken, “Why would I try to leave the Dome?”
Again. Why would she try to leave the Dome again.
She’d already tried twice. Once by ship. Once on foot.
That was the key to this.
Another smile—a real one—the tendrils of his mind itching to dig deeper as he held them in check.
“Why would you climb a building naked to rescue a known terrorist?” he countered, kissing the tip of her nose. Keeping his tone easy. Filling her with light, a froth, and feelings of reassurance.
Just enough to encourage her to sample each. To let her feel them, experience them, and make them her own.
She needed to learn to name these sensations. To study them. To learn what they were and what they were not.
Jules watering the seeds he planted. So that when she muttered, “To save the Dome from you,” he could lightly respond, “And now you can.”
Another kiss. A skilled thing placed upon her lips. Not to entice her sexually, but to build more of that delicious affection in her heart.
“You could rule me with one vow.”
It could not be that easy.
Those were her thoughts, her expression utterly unguarded. Innocent. Every last thought of skepticism, of hope, the complete tangle of navigating unmedicated emotion drawing her closer to where he needed her to go.
She looked so perfect, felt so perfect, as she said, “If I stay inside the Dome?”
“Forever,” Jules answered with a nod, excitement, actual feeling fluttering where their bond was seated in his chest. “You remain inside the Dome and survive. You take care of yourself. You do not take unnecessary risks. You try.”
“Try what…?”
There it was. She’d found his bait, her voice full of hope and fear… but mostly suspicion.
That was the question, his mate beautifully trotting down the path he’d laid for her. To soften the blow. To cement what was necessary. Another smile, a purposeful blink to humanize himself. “Being ruled by your slave, hmm? You are an Omega, waking up to your nature. Still ignorant of what that fully means. But I am not. Your needs, your anatomy, I understand them.”
More than understood them. “I was the surgeon who led the team that rebuilt your vaginal canal. An expert back in Thólos. Celebrated. I’ve written medical textbooks on the topic, performed thousands of operations. Of course, that was before… my specialty was redirected. My skillset repurposed and… expanded.”
There was no hesitation in his mate to believe him. Nor was she particularly impressed. That’s not the way jobs worked in Beta Sector. Every job mattered, none was above the other.
But she was analyzing what this meant.
After all, he’d shown her with a few sexual acts just how precise his understanding of Omega anatomy was. And he had not even given her a taste of advanced pleasures yet.
She even seemed to soften into his tale, her breath slowing, as she admitted, “I like the idea of you as a healer.”
Not that he’d pursued a surgical career for altruistic reasons.
He’d wanted Rebecca.
Needed power, money, and access to keep her. To give her the life she deserved. Attained advanced knowledge to entice her. Had chosen his path, dedicated his life to learning everything there was to possibly know about Omegas. Studied, perfected, enhanced. Outshined his classmates. His peers. Set himself apart from Alphas… who needed him to repair their own mates.
Grew rich, well connected.
All because he’d set eyes on a dark-eyed, dark-haired girl when they were both just children—certain the petite female would grow up Omega. Had to have her. Understood that in society she would be taken away were he not prepared to outshine all other potential romantic partners should his designation not be Alpha at the onset of puberty.
Pragmatic Jules had not been willing to gamble that one day he’d be able to knot. He’d never gambled a day in his life.
And he’d presented Beta.
But he’d been prepared. And Rebecca had known no other male than he. He’d assured that too. So when he proposed, they were married that afternoon.
His childhood best friend becoming his wife.
“Then let me heal you, Brenya. And I can if you tell me I don’t need to worry.” She was so perfect, the way her eyes grew big at his artistic pleading. How easily compassionate and good she was. So sweet and loving and gentle and kind. His brilliant, good girl. “Please.”