“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It was meant as one.”
“Have you thought about what kind of alpha you’d like before?” Oberon almost didn’t want to know, but since he was finally getting Fenrir to open up and let his guard down, he couldn’t blow the opportunity to glean more about him.
“Never. What about you?”
“Gifting someone the bite was never on my mind.”
“So then why did you give it to me?”
“It felt right.” Oberon shrugged. “I always act on impulse.”
“You can afford to.”
He grinned. “You aren’t wrong.”
“I could kill you.”
“You could.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” Oberon was aware of the type of power the omega could wield.
“You aren’t worried?”
“You aren’t going to kill me, precious.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I know you.”
“You don’t—” Fenrir’s protest died on his tongue when Oberon reached out and poked the area over his heart.
“I know you here. Like I said, it’s a feeling. My instincts told me you were mine, so you’re mine. You aren’t going to kill me, Fenrir, because I really am your best option. I can give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of. You won’t find anyone better suited to your needs.”
Oberon wanted to flip the omega over and strip him but held back. It was too soon. He needed to give Fenrir space, the opportunity to approach him first, for both of their sakes.
With a sigh, he stood, holding out a hand when he wobbled and Fenrir went to rise with him. “I’m fine. Just moved too fast. I’m going to wash up and then get some sleep. We’ll probably be trapped here for a while, I suggest you do the same.”
“Later,” Fenrir told him. “I’m going to sit here for a bit longer.”
“Okay.”
Oberon didn’t bother with the shower, slipping into the tiny, attached bathroom to relieve himself and change into a pair of gray silk pajamas. As soon as the smooth material touched his skin, his eyes slipped shut. Creature comforts were so important. He was glad he hadn’t forgotten to stock quality clothing like he’d forgotten the table.
There was no sink in the bathroom, so he had to walk out and brush his teeth in the main space, propping a hip against the counter beneath the shelving units so he could see his omega.
Fenrir was facing the fireplace, knees turned up, arms wrapped around them. He peered into the flames sightlessly, seemingly unaware of Oberon’s presence. There was a good distance between him and the fireplace though, with him practically sitting on the end of the rug, as far as he could be.
O wondered what he was thinking about. Wondered if he occupied even a small corner of the omega’s mind. Being attacked by the Wardrobe hadn’t been in the cards, but he found he was rather pleased with the outcome.
What better chance to get to know and adjust to one another than this? Being literally trapped, with nowhere else to go and no one to disturb them?
If he could control the weather like Fenrir could, Oberon would ensure the snow didn’t stop until they’d run out of food and no other choice but to rejoin the land of the living.
Chapter 21: