The Omega Sacrifice

Ghian-1

Ghian

There was more than one reason friendly trysts had been his way of dealing with his s****l needs for years. This unbearable silence hadn’t been one of them. Becoming Alpha had made it hard to share some of his struggles with his packmates at first, but since his first responsibility was to make sure they were doing okay, it was easier to focus their conversations on their lives instead of his own. He didn’t mind, he liked being able to help them and listening to their stories of losing sight of prey or being caught by an elder at an awkward moment made him feel a little less lonely. And maybe the men who let their hands linger on his arm too long or found him in a corner of the communal area weren’t enamoured with him beyond that kindness, but so what? It was a mutually beneficial exchange and it made Ghian’s life easier too. Afterwards, they’d wink or raise their eyebrows, the boldest would make a lewd gesture or two—it was easy to just laugh it off, or to take them up on a repeat.

It didn’t mean they were lovers. Ghian hadn’t had anyone like that since he’d been fifteen years old and his father had been killed. Back then the prospect of intimacy had been a rush of adrenaline, now it was closer to terror.

But of course, back then, Ghian hadn’t been the Alpha of his pack and both he and his partner had chosen to be there.

Aalyan had clearly started to droop after eating for the second time, as was to be expected after the long trek to get to their territory and the strong emotions their meeting must have brought up. Ghian guided him to his cave on the mountainous side of their territory.

Namely, the cave the chiefs of his tribe had used for generations to house themselves and their mates. It was considerably better than sleeping even in the best of the tree houses, warmer at night and cooler during the day, but Ghian was very aware that it was also quite different from what other shifter would be used to. As a child, he’d travelled to visit other packs—not with his father but with Tlessi, their shaman—and he’d never encountered anyone living in such an enclosure.

The way the leopard shifter stopped cold when they got to the entrance confirmed his unease.

“Oh.” He glanced at Ghian, expression flickering for a moment before settling into a horrible blandness. “Is this your home?”

Ghian nodded, mind churning furiously. What could he say? “Yes, and yours now... If—” He cut himself off when Aalyan turned his face away. He had made it clear he didn’t want to talk about the possibility of not being here. With Ghian. “Let me move the door.”

The heavy piece of carved rock—an improvement Ghian’s grandfather had devised when a huge rock had fallen nearby after a volcanic eruption—took some effort for even Ghian to move. Suddenly, it occurred to him that Aalyan might not be able to move it at all—especially with how little muscle there seemed to be on him at the moment.

He'd just have to make sure to make it clear Aalyan only needed to point and Ghian would open it for him. It wasn’t much, a promise from a stranger that he wouldn’t be trapped... Maybe he could ask Erea if they could come up with a mechanical system that didn’t require brute strength. Knowing his sister, she’d love the challenge.

He felt lighter when he revealed the insides of his home. The walls were carved with shelves to hold food and clothes, and there was a big hole at the back where one could burn wood in winter to heat up the space, and for sleeping, there was a raised platform with furs piled high. There was another platform right across from it next to the other wall, but that one was full of bits of wood and carving utensils, probably sticky with resin and definitely not fit to sleep on.

It was meant for the Alpha’s young children and once upon a time he’d slept there himself.

He'd never imagined it’d see any use during his lifetime.

But he had meant to prepare the space he used for his work as a second bed for his intended to spend his first night. Now it seemed patently absurd. Especially after Aalyan’s anger earlier. He could understand why, what would it be but a mockery of what Aalyan would soon have to give up? But he still wanted... He didn’t have anyone else to ask, so he grit his teeth and said, “I could make up a separate bed for you there.” He pointed at the desk. “I want you to be comfortable.”

The leopard turned to him, greenish eyes wide, heart speeding up.

“I’m serious,” Ghian said. “I told you, I won’t touch you tonight, you need your rest and...” He huffed, looking around the familiar space and finding no comfort in it. “It’s strange, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Aalyan agreed. He glanced around, then tentatively met Ghian’s eyes again. “I don’t need another bed,” he said.

It was, he understood after a moment, a gesture of trust. Or willingness to trust, really, since Ghian had not proven himself true yet. He could expect no true feeling in return for nothing.

“Okay,” he agreed easily. “I have some fresh clothes you could wear to bed.”

This clearly confused the omega, but he shrugged in response and pulled his shirt up without turning around or waiting for Ghian to look away. He was way too skinny, just like it’d seemed, which only made the circumstances that had brought him here all the clearer—his pack had to be close to starving. If not, they’d have certainly made sure to feed him up before sending him here as clear proof of their desperate state.

Not that Ghian had had any intentions of attacking the leopards or encroaching in their territory even before he’d accepted one of their own as his mate, but showing weakness to a stranger was always dangerous.

Aalyan’s skin was a creamy brown a few shades lighter than his leopard’s spots, except for his n*****s—hard in the cooler air of the cave—and a trail of thick hair led down his stomach to where his short trousers covered his bottom half.

Ghian yanked his eyes away as the cord holding them up was pulled, but he still caught a glimpse of skin and got a noseful of Aalyan’s more intense scent. He had to turn away, scrunching his eyes shut and telling his body to quit it.

It wasn’t like Ghian was immune to the pheromones female omegas exuded, but to have it in combination with a beautiful male body he also desired for himself was on another level completely.

“Um, Alpha?” his guest’s voice brought him out of his reverie.

“Ghian,” he corrected at once, turning back to face him. “Call me Ghian.”

Aalyan’s eyes, which was all he was looking at, were bright. Amused, maybe. “You said you had fresh clothes for me?”

“Ah, yes, of course, just—”

He turned towards the shelves and fumbled the clothes he hastily selected. He wasn’t sure, but he thought Aalyan might have tried to touch his hand as he blindly passed them to him.

Maybe. A guy could hope.

***