Omega Society Auction by Glass Eileen

Author:Glass, Eileen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Glass Fiction
Published: 2018-02-01T05:00:00+00:00

It goes to show Rourke’s level of entitlement when he wakes up the next day and his first action is to seek out the warm body in his body and rouse it to pet him. Several times, if Rourke isn’t ready to get up, he falls asleep to a hand in his hair, or some other comforting touch.

His whole life, he never knew that sleeping alone was such a drag. The bed by itself seems cold and uninviting without Zachri. Maybe that’s why he wakes up so easily if they’re apart, even a few inches.

This time Zachri is awake. Rourke discerns that he’s sitting up. But that petting hand never comes. He’s gotten used to it, that this gives him the energy to find out what’s up.

Then he frowns in puzzlement because Zachri has his phone.

“Good morning, omega.”

“What’re you doing?”

“I wanted to see if your mother had anything to say about her hospital visit yesterday.”

He hands the phone back. Rourke never told him the pin number to bypass his thumb print, but perhaps he saw Rourke put it in? His mind is too fuzzy to remember if he’s used the pin recently. An alpha could probably just call the phone company and get all his details that way.

Rourke yawns, deciding not to bother with it. Normal relationship boundaries do not apply.

“Did she?” he asks instead, going in to check himself.

“No. Her last text was yesterday before the appointment. She misses you dearly.”

Rourke winces. He would have deleted yesterday’s text if he knew Zachri would see it. She wrote a long, heartfelt letter about how Rourke didn’t need to this for her. And the shame she felt for him. How she thought she failed as a mother.

“She’s just having an emotional moment, you know? She’s grateful, but… she doesn’t like how it all came about.”

“Yes. She doesn’t like losing you. I understand.” He has coffee on the end table that he sips. It smells like peppermint mocha in the bed, the coffee and his natural scent combined.

“She’s always been a little odd because of her diagnosis, you know? When you’re dying, the world seems less real. Or maybe it’s more real, I don’t know. But she’s gotten worse, believing in all these fantasies and stuff.”

“What kind of fantasies?”

Rourke settles against the headboard, Zachri’s arm around him, and happily acquisitions the coffee before he sets it back.

“Mm. About conspiracies. And mystical healing. She talks about how thoughts have energy and emanate these auras and all kinds of crazy shit. Stuff like that.”

“Well…” Zachri purses his lips. “That is true, however… I don’t think your human mother can perceive such things.”

“She thinks some people can. She wants to give them money sometimes and I have to stop her.”

It’s amazing that I can tell someone about this stuff now.

Rourke catches himself staring into the mug. Little tickles from Zachri’s stroking fingers bring him back, and Rourke's mouth feels he just finished sucking on a candy before sipping this coffee.

He feels fine. And a little randy, like he could straddle Zachri’s lap and get him going.

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