The Alpha King: A Fated Mates MF Omegaverse (Goldenrod Book 2) by Emily North

Author:Emily North [North, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Emily North Author
Published: 2023-11-25T16:00:00+00:00

26

Conquered

Elizabeth

Rill and I mate continuously off and on throughout the night, and when we’re not, we sleep, his knot planted inside me. With each mating, I’m lulled into a deep sleep—it seems impossible to stay awake. But I always wake up when his knot retracts.

In the pitch-black room, the absence of him creates such an overwhelming sense of emptiness and need that I immediately grope for him. Each time, I find his hands simultaneously searching for me. He silences my needy whimpers with his lips before sliding on top of me and starting it all over again.

And now, as I place my hand atop my flat stomach in the gray morning light, my skin feels different … and my bones, my heart, my brain. Everything.

I’m cooler and more at peace than I’ve felt in weeks.

They always say an omega knows right away when she becomes pregnant. It’s silly, though, since I don’t look any different, and I can’t smell a baby in my belly. I just have a feeling. I know something’s different…

Other than that, it’s like I’m myself again. After weeks of torment and loss, trying to find Elizabeth Cypress in this foreign place, here she is … lying in bed with her mate.

“Elizabeth Cypress,” I mutter my name aloud. Despite my new self-confidence, it doesn’t sound the same. It sounds like someone else’s name.

I turn on my side to stare at Rill’s face. His dark lashes are long against his pale skin, and his mouth relaxed and gentle.

Not for the first time, I wonder what he’d look like without the scar. Handsome, I think. He has a straight nose and high cheekbones, his brows slash across his face in a way that makes him look like he’s always smiling. The scar disturbs it, though, making him seem more intimidating than he might be without it.

Slowly, he cracks his eyes open, pulling his lips in a half-smile.

“Morning.” His voice is rough from disuse.

“Good morning,” I whisper back gravely.

He moans low in his throat as his hand comes up to the small of my back, pulling me against his warm body.

“How long have you been awake?” I ask in a throaty voice I don’t recognize.

“For a while,” he murmurs. “I was secretly staring at you while you were secretly staring at me and talking to yourself.”

I laugh and pull away, my hand coming up to weave through the sprinkle of hair covering his chest before traveling up to rest on his cheek.

We stare at each other in the darkness, just the sound of our breaths interrupting the early morning peace. I study his face in the gray light—particularly the long scar that breaks up his face. I’ve looked at it and wondered about it hundreds of times before, but this is the first time I feel like I’m ever truly noticing it…

“Does it hurt?” I ask abruptly, reaching up to trace its jagged path.

“No.” His voice is soft, an almost whisper. “Sometimes, it’s tight when I wake up, but that’s it.

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