The Omega Sacrifice

Ghian

Ghian

Why had he even asked? Of course Aalyan was all too aware he hadn’t really had a choice.

He was grateful when Telez arrived with food—grabbing the rope and pulling up the basket provided a much-needed break in the conversation. The omega’s attention was immediately diverted by the food. How badly were they struggling? Maybe the food he’d sent wasn’t adequate, maybe he needed to make arrangements to teach the leopards how to plant their own.

But they wouldn’t take the help, not without a price tag. Once upon a time, they’d been allies, visited and feasted, sometimes even ran together during the Full Moon. But that had been before prey had become scarce and the river a line they all knew not to cross.

He silently held out the basket to Aalyan, who took it, but then again, he knew what the price was, didn’t he?

Aalyan bit into a piece of bread with relish, only to slow down almost at once. Ghian had never seen anyone chew their food that thoroughly and it took him a moment to understand he was trying to make it last. He barely bit his tongue back in time before he offered a reassurance that would have been the height of rudeness. Was that because he felt an instinctive need to make the omega feel safe? He knew he could be overprotective; it was a bit of a running joke that he was going to lose it if he ever had a child.

A child... He looked away from the omega sitting across from him and occupied himself with a piece of salted meat. He wanted children, very much so, but the idea of having them with this stranger was unsettling. He gulped down some of the water his brother had helpfully provided. He was being ridiculous, and he knew it. Here was this man, someone who’d probably had no idea he could have children inside his own body up until a week ago, and Ghian was worrying because they had just met? Aalyan had to be terrified.

And it was Ghian’s responsibility to make sure he knew he’d be taken care of, valued, treasured, respected. Aalyan was an Awá now, and soon, he’d be Ghian’s mate.

“Let’s say we both said yes,” he suggested, offering the water to Aalyan.

The omega blinked but accepted it. His eyes were a little wary, but he was looking at Ghian—he’d probably never learned to look down. f**k that, why should he? Ghian needed to know what he was thinking and since he clearly wasn’t big on talking, his eyes were the best he had to go on.

“But this is still new and all, so... We can take a little time.”

“I thought we only had until I went into heat,” Aalyan pointed out, it was said calmly, but no sooner had the words left his lips, he tensed up.

And yet, he was absolutely right. They were creatures of instinct, and they owed everything to the Moon. If Ghian delayed this, if he was kind and let his need to protect Aalyan get the better of him, would he have really been doing him a favour? Or would he just have been letting things run their course until neither of them had a choice anymore?

“You’re right,” he conceded. “I just wanted to make sure you knew I...” He paused, swallowing. “I appreciate you being here.”

“You don’t want me,” Aalyan said suddenly, his pulse had sped up again and he’d lowered the hand holding the piece of fresh fruit he’d been devouring moments before.

“No!” Ghian said immediately. “Of course I want you.” At least his Jaguar wanted him and he hoped that was true enough. He felt like he’d been holding himself back since he’d laid eyes on Aalyan, the scent of him combined with the curve of his neck awaking a hunger he’d never given into before. It wasn’t like his animal self did not want female omegas; it’d always been Ghian’s human side that had resisted. And he was still resisting now. “I just met you, but you are...” He gestured. “Beautiful.” He decided. “Strong,” he added, but then he thought, would that sound like he meant strong for childbirth?

He dug his claws into the bark beneath him and the tree groaned in protest. He made himself breathe deeply and loosen his grip, brushing an apology against the damaged wood. With effort, he looked at the man putting his life in his hands in the eye and admitted, at last, “I don’t know what I’m doing, I did not expect to have a mate. I did not expect a male omega, and I couldn’t have mated a female. Not even for my pack.”

“Why not?” Aalyan asked.

Ghian tensed up. It was the only part of himself he hadn’t been able to give them, not even when his Jaguar was on their side and would have gladly mated a woman for the purpose.

“I don’t... I can’t love a woman, not as a mate should.” The words were dry in his mouth, but once they were out, he could breathe again.

The omega’s eyes were intense, as if they were looking deep into him, but then they flickered away and returned calmer. “So I’m your only choice.”

Ghian wanted to deny it, to apologize, to make it better.

But before he could think of anything to say, Aalyan nodded. “Good, then we’re even, you’re my only choice too.”

For the first time, he didn’t seem scared or angry, just certain. It wasn’t the kind of certainty Ghian wanted to inspire on the man he’d spend his life with, but the first rule of being Alpha was to put others’ needs before your own, so he said nothing.

***

HIS TRAINING HADN’T been easy, but he’d been able to see the wisdom he was being offered for the treasure it was. And his dad had been wise enough to entice Ghian into meditation and other practices an active child would not be particularly well-suited for by promising trips to explore their territory or visit other packs. He couldn’t remember ever being happier.

But childhood couldn’t last forever, and safety had lasted even less. As the next alpha of the pack, Ghian got to listen to all the harm humans were doing and the need to stop them before they destroyed the jungle for everyone.

It hadn’t felt like his old friends could understand. When he’d spent the morning contemplating the possibility of an attack, their jokes about who’d slipped during the hunt that day couldn’t quite land. And he wasn’t allowed to tell them; it was his responsibility to know and to decide, so they could feel safe.

No one had forbid him from spending time with other people his age, although girls had started to steer clear of them as not only him but other boys presented as alphas, but as he grew older, he’d grown apart from them all.

It was no wonder, really, that he’d wandered down a random path that day after his father had brought up the possibility of attacking humans before they got a chance to attack them. The wind did not always respond, but it was a good listener.

He hadn’t meant to cross over into another pack’s territory, but the other boundaries were a lot less clear than the river that separated them from the Ysiatl.