Page 54 of Omega Hunted

“Yep, it absolutely makes him a dragon.”

The program was stupid. Nothing happened except people arguing about food, sleeping arrangements, territory marking, bathroom schedules, and the ethics of shedding fur in shared spaces. But every time Aldric did anything remotely unusual, Cassian added it to the dragon theory with complete confidence.

Aldric ordered the hottest curry on the takeaway menu.

Dragon.

Aldric slept with his window open, and three blankets folded at the foot of the bed, but not over him.

Dragon.

There was a suspicious fire near the bear’s collection of yogurt pots.

Dragon.

By the time the episode ended, I felt lighter. Not because the program was clever, although parts of it were funnier than I wanted to admit, but because Cassian was unwilling to concede that Aldric might be anything other than a dragon, and he’d included me when he explained all his theories and made me smile.

Cassian caught me staring at him during the credits. “What?”

I shook my head. “Do you really think dragons exist?”

Cassian didn’t answer immediately. The credits rolled into a preview of the next episode, but he muted it before the narrator could recap the previous episode. Outside the window, the light was fading, and the room was warm enough I could feel myself beginning to drift.

“My Grandma Clara said they did,” he said eventually. “She believed there were still some left, but they were rarer than anyone knew and better at hiding than the rest of us.” He rested his head back against the bed frame, gaze on the muted screen. “Rarer than omegas who can carry, which is saying something. Although she always said dragons could bear young.”

I ran my hand over my belly, contemplating registries, bloodlines, and how people turn rare bodies into property. “If they could carry, no wonder they hide.”

Cassian’s jaw tightened. “Yeah.”

I reached for the remote where he’d set it on the bed and held it out. “Another episode?”

Cassian shook the remote. “You want to watch another one?”

More importantly, did he want to watch another one? It was easier if the alpha decided. Alphas liked making decisions. If they were happy, they stayed calm. If they stayed calm, nobody got shouted at. Nobody got hurt.

“Do you want to?” I asked cautiously.

“Duh,” he said, then played the next episode, and I shifted lower into the nest while he focused on the screen, where Aldric was refusing to participate in group yoga, and wait… was that smoke coming from his nose? Cassian certainly thought so, but I was growing restless and needy and couldn’t concentrate on what we were watching.

“Cassian?”

“Yep?”

“Will you sit inside here with me?” I asked. A nest carried scent, safety, and need, and inviting an alpha into it should have terrified me.

But it didn’t.

My cat had already made up his mind. He was curled deep inside me, calm and expectant, his attention fixed on Cassian with confidence.

“There’s room,” I added.

Cassian’s hand tightened once on his knee. “Soren.”

“I know you don’t want to have to touch me.” I kept my voice steady because I needed him to know I meant it. “You can sit on the edge. Or not. I just… You don’t have to sit all the way over there.”

He looked at me for a long moment, and I saw his wolf in his eyes, not pushing forward, not demanding, but listening. Then Cassian nodded, stood, and stepped away to remove his boots. He left them by the door, then came back and paused at the edge of the nest as if he were waiting for me to change my mind.

I didn’t.