Chapter 11
Despite the clarity of Prim’s mind, it was near impossible to focus on Ominis’s words when he was standing so close, just within reach. Her fingers twitched with the urge to delve into those soft locks. She knew how magnificent they would feel under her eager hands.
“Primrose?”
“Yes?”
Ominis, a towering figure of both lean muscle and raw strength, emitted a palpable aura of command. His posture was unyielding as an indomitable enchantment. His mesmerizing eyes twinkled under the fiery glow of the braziers, exotic and otherworldly. Aesthetic endowments like his high cheekbones and a regal countenance made even his rumpled ensemble appear stately.
“I concede I know little about Omega at all. I’ve gleaned only the essentials from your book on navigating the early…phases.” Ominis exhaled, fatigue etching his face as he pinched the bridge of his nose. The intoxicating amalgamation of their mingling scents had long since overpowered the musty undercroft. The air tingled with inviting warmth. “This conversation should really wait until we meet with Nurse Blainey. I’m sure she has a wealth of knowledge on the subject. When Anne returns, we will escort you to her and devise a plan from there—”
His cheeks bore the rosy flush of recent exertions, his lips and chin pink and irritated, evidence of his fervent attentions. She watched his lips as they curved around his syllables, recalling with crisp clarity the way his mouth moved over her aching core…
He pulled away, head tilting as he sniffed the air. Prim fought to control her blush as his brow arched, lip curling up in a knowing smirk as arousal sweetened her scent.
“A knut for your thoughts, Primrose?” Ominis said, leaning toward her. His scent was a delicious rush of ripe oranges, their sweet and tangy notes filling the air as he sniffed around her. “Your heat is in recess…” His mouth formed a thin line, a crease appearing on his forehead as he stepped back, his posture aligning.
“S-sorry, you were talking about…Anne?” She asked, dazed by his proximity, heat flushing her cheeks.
“Are you finding my company tedious, Primrose?” He asked with a sigh, mimicking the exasperated demeanor of a teacher dealing with a troublesome pupil, but his scent betrayed his amusement.
“You aren’t boring at all! You were just standing so clo…uh… I was just thinking about fixing my hair before Anne comes back. We’ll never hear the end of her teasing if she sees me like this…” Prim said, mentally smacking herself.
Prims focus drifted- again- towards Ominis. He wasn’t overly muscular like many of his alpha peers, but his well-built frame was undeniably imposing. Magic pulsed beneath his skin, a potent and precise force. Yet, the tender affection he had shown earlier hinted at a softer side.
The mix of authority and gentleness intrigued her, leaving Prim utterly captivated.
“Not one for subtlety, are you?” he asked, his lips curving into a smug smirk. His sharp features teatered between attractive and intimidating. She wondered how fierce he looked when angry.
“No, but I probably would be if I knew how to go about it,” Prim admitted, biting her lip as she processed her strange outburst. “Are all Slytherin as direct and pragmatic as you?”
A chuckle escaped him, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Ah, a question about the Houses. I didn’t think we’d turn this into a lesson. You’re full of surprises. ”
“Anne mentioned that each house has certain traits. What distinguishes Slytherin and Hufflepuff?”
A thoughtful look crossed Ominis’s face. “Of all the questions you could manage in our fleeting alone time, this makes the cut? Very well. Hufflepuff represents patience, fairness, and loyalty. They are usually kind-hearted and emotionally expressive to an annoying degree... no offense intended.”
Thinking about her own personality traits, she asked, “And Slytherin?”
“Slytherin are ambitious, cunning, and resourceful. Perfectly harmless qualities, I assure you,” he added, his tone dry.
She snickered, completly unable to destinguish if he was being funny. “Do our Houses get along?”
Ominis hummed thoughtfully. “Slytherin and Hufflepuff have great potential for close friendship. Hufflepuff tend to be patient, not swayed by hearsay or drama…Forgive me, I’m not one to make notes of the finer qualities of houses other than my own...”
“Our Houses... they won’t interfere with our relationship?... That’s not to say we... I wouldn’t mind a...It’s not like we have an actual relationship... wait, I didn’t mean to... Ugh, we aren’t discussing this…” Prim stammered, her cheeks flushing yet again as Prim realized what she had more than implied.
Her sentence trailed off, leaving a lingering silence that Ominis filled with a hearty chuckle. “I assure you, Primrose,” he interjected smoothly, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “The Houses have absolutely no bearing on the non-existent relationship we’re not discussing.” Ominis teased, laughter crinkling the corners of his eyes, his grin revealing a set of perfectly straight teeth. “However, I’d wager our peers might be a touch more cautious about plotting behind your back, should they think you’re being courted by a Slytherin.”
His statement left her reeling. He certainty didn’t seem against the idea of them being a couple, so that was a good sign.
"Now we'll tend your hair. Be still." With a whispered incantation and a flick of his wand, Ominis cast a charm that smoothed her hair from parted and slicked back to a soft, pale waterfall. His attentiveness was a potent combination of dominance and caring that Prim found irresistibly attractive.
“Thank you, Ominis,” she murmured, an impulsive poke at his arm serving as an awkward substitute for the affection she yearned to express. “It’s nice not to feel like I’m obligated to act fancy and disgruntled.”
“Keep talking like that, and I’ll have to tidy you back up. Can’t have you looking like the typical rumpled puff, can we?” A giggle bubbled from Prim’s throat at his playfulness, the sound morphing into a soft chirp, distinctly Omega it rang of pure contentment.
Ominis delighted at the noise, face splitting into a wide smile. His acceptance and encouragement fortified her, Prim didn't feel the need to censor her chirps and purs around him. It was pleasant.
His smile was infectious, beckoning her closer. Drawn to him, Prim stepped into his personal space, their connection undeniable and magnetic.
Her voice was a soft murmur, just loud enough to disrupt the shared silence. “You cleaned me up, so may I return the favor?”
Brow arched, his sharp features softened with amusement. “By all means.”
In the muted sanctuary of their shared space, Prim bridged the remaining gap between them. The surrounding energy changed subtly, humming with anticipation.
Her hands, steady and invitingly warm, moved to tidy his disheveled clothes. Each smoothed wrinkle, each button she fastened, was a silent testament to the feelings she didn't know how to express.
The green and silver stripes of his tie caught her attention, and she delicately adjusted it, her fingers trembling.
As she lifted her eyes to his, she met an inscrutable gaze that, though sightless, bored into her. There was a flicker of surprise in his icy depths, a silent question left hanging in the air.
“Primrose,” he drawled, his voice a comfortable mixture of sarcasm and fondness, “you have a rather archaic sense of personal grooming... Then again, it provides an interesting change of pace.” His gentle teasing sparked a blush in her cheeks, but she couldn’t help but respond with a shy smile. His warmth and sincerity, made it easy to forget their surreal circumstances. ”Though I appreciate your proximity and attentions, Primrose, you needn’t tend me in the muggle fashion."
“We call muggles no-maj’s back in the States,” Prim said, lips pursing at the unanticipated piece of trivia that she’d inadvertently let slip. She wanted to steer the conversation in a different direction, but... Prim hoped Ominis could be her Alpha, just like her father had been to her mother. She felt compelled to share her vulnerabilities with him, to build trust. “I... I don’t know how to use spells to tidy you up... not the way you did for me.” Her voice was soft, her accent grating and coarse compared to Ominis’s polished inflection. Her fingers rested on his tie, her eyes downcast.
“What do you mean?” He asked, arched brow adding a touch of intrigue to his soft inquiry. “I was under the impression your parents tutored you. Did they neglect your education?”
His question lingered heavily in the silence, a blend of curiosity and concern. Prim’s eyes revealed her unease, and she sighed with resigned acceptance. She hadn’t thought of herself as an inadequate witch until meeting Anne and her flamboyant magical displays. Prims hands stilled on his chest.
“I...” Her voice faltered, choking on the words. She swallowed the knot in her throat before continuing.
Would he still see her as a potential mate after discovering her glaring lack of magical knowledge?
“I learned different magic... Mountain magic.” Her admission was barely a whisper, a confession unfolding in the privacy of their shared space. Her revelation hung thick in the air, a raw vulnerability exposed. “I know a few basic spells, though...” she added hurriedly, cringing inwardly.
Her magical repertoire was limited, but he didn’t need to know how out of depth she felt with what her father described as ‘mainstream magic.’ It never occurred to Prim or her parents that she would one day venture out of the mountains, hence there was no need to learn spells she would never use.
A flicker of intrigue lit up his sightless eyes. “Mountain magic? Can’t say I’m familiar with the term.” His tone conveyed his genuine curiosity.
Prim nodded, her hands retreating from his form to hang at her sides. “It mainly involves nature-based spells... I need to connect with the elements or life around me to cast them. They’re quite useful for survival and healing in the mountains. But, I never had a formal magical education... We don’t use incantations... or wands, for that matter... Papa has a wand but adopted my mother’s methods so I haven’t…Yeah.” Her voice dwindled into silence, her confession hanging in the air between them.
Ominis regarded her, his sightless gaze intense but not unkind as he absorbed her words, expression shifting to one of enlightened fascination that quickly twisted into pragmatic concern.
“Executing spells without incantation or wand? Quite impressive, Primrose. Such magic is notoriously challenging for the average wizard to master,” he conceded, his tone filled with genuine admiration. His praise ignited a blush on her cheeks. “As exceptional as that may be, wand usage is a standard requirement at Hogwarts, as are spells with incantation. It’s beyond me why Anne didn’t sort out your wand situation during your jaunt to Hogsmeade.”
He paused, brows pinched in thought. “I’ll accompany you to Ollivander’s to get you properly kitted out. I expect you will have extra assignments alongside your regular lessons. We will study together in the evenings…I should unearth my fifth-year notes for you... As for your formal education, or rather, the absence thereof, I’ll discuss it with Headmaster Black to see that you’ve been properly sorted out. I presume you haven’t studied Latin extensively? That’s something we will need to rectify as most students here are fluent by the time we reach Hogwarts. At some juncture amidst all this, I would be most intrigued to observe your unique abilities in action. I’ll arrange everything and we may begin afyer your heat concludes.”
Prim sat in awed silence, Ominis’s rapid-fire problem-solving and comprehensive planning leaving her dazed. His immediate assumption of responsibility for her—albeit delivered in an assertively charming way—made a distinct impression on her.
Sucking in a sharp breath, a spark of surprise flickering at his own assertive declarations and plans. A flush crept over his cheeks and his eyes darted from side to side with nerves.
“I mean... if it suits you,” he said, stammered words cascading out in a torrent of discomfort, “We could make a trip to Ollivanders at the earliest opportunity. If it’s to your comfort, of course. And in light of your parents... oversights in your education, I mean, not to imply any form of neglect- “His cheeks blazed as his stately, commanding demeanor crumbled.
Her hands lifted on their own to rest on his chest, the urge to comfort more innate than hormone-driven as she rubbed circles over his wool vest in a pattern that Prim hoped was more comforting than clumsy.
The crease of his brow, the shy curl of his lips. His hesitation revealed an endearing vulnerability, a softness that the Alpha was clearly not accustomed to expressing. It moved her, while simultaneously leaving her disconcerted.
Having heard stories of Ominis from Anne, Prim had crafted an image of him: steadfast, decisive, crafty, and a stalwart guardian of his comrades. Yet, experiencing his presence firsthand in the hallway, those tales had taken on flesh and bone, earning him her swift trust and regard.
In the whirlwind that her life had become, where assurance was scarce, Ominis’s constancy was an anchor. His unwavering reliability mirrored the stability her father had once provided, a lighthouse guiding her and her mother through their tempestuous adventures.
Ominis’s eloquence rapidly crumbled as he fumbled for words and awkwardly backtracked.
Prim doubted Ominis had ever found himself truly at a loss for words before; his unease hung in the air, palpable and tart.
The lines between her brows deepened, empathy propelling her hands forward. Her fingertips, tentative and unsure, navigated toward his mussed hair. He tensed at her contact but didn't withdraw. As if they had a mind of their own, her fingers slowly calmed the chaos, setting order to his unruly waves.
His words drowned into silence, his breath hitching as her soothing touch explored the contours of his scalp. It was a level of intimacy that she’d never experienced with any furred creature she'd petted in her mountain home. The sensation was both alien and intoxicating.
As moments unfolded into minutes, her fingers became bolder, their rhythm steadier.
His eyes closed as if he was absorbing her touch, his guarded breath slipping out in a sigh of surrender. The rigidity seeped out of his form, succumbing to her comforting ministrations, and her heart hummed a silent victory.
Long after Ominis’s hair had been coaxed back into order, she continued her gentle ministrations. The impulse to touch him, to solidify this tender bond they were weaving, proved too compelling to ignore. Each gentle stroke of her fingers felt like a whispered vow, a silent affirmation that she was there for him, as he had been there for her. His scent intensified to a sugary aroma. Candied oranges.
The scent was nostalgic, triggering a cherished piece of wisdom imparted by her Ma before illness took hold. “Omega, Prim,” her southern drawl resonated in Prim’s memory, “are the free spirits of our world. We are born to provide care, love, and support for those around us. But for an Omega to flourish, we need an Alpha. Not just any will do. Trust me, sweetlin’, follow your instincts, choose the one whose scent makes your heart flutter because the nose always knows, you hear?”
A soft whisper escaped her lips, “I think my Ma would have liked you, Ominis.”
His eyes fluttered open, a soft smile gracing his lips as his eyebrows arched in surprise. “I’m honored to hear that.”
Prim turned her attention back to Ominis. His lips curved upwards, but the after-effects of his prior awkwardness still clung to his features. The whiff of nervous uncertainty undercutting his otherwise sweet aroma irked her - her Alpha should never feel insecure.
“Ominis,” her voice dropped to a murmur, breaking the silent cocoon they were in, “I don’t know what all is in that book, I haven’t read it….” His eyes widened with surprise, quickly replaced by a rosy hue that dusted his cheeks. “As an Omega, there’s something I… I need...” Her gaze darted around the room, landing anywhere but on his waiting expression. “Someone to… take the reins, so to speak…If there is to be anything between us, I need you to have control…” At his look of alarm, Prim attempted to clarify, “It’s not as weird as I’m making it sound—probably... What I mean is, when someone I trust steers me, it provides comfort and...”
“Primrose, breathe.”
On cue, she drew in a sharp breath, heavily laced with Ominis’s enticing citrus scent - as sweet and refreshing as fresh orange juice. “O-okay, sorry…”
“No need to apologize.” His mouth twitched before breaking into a shy smile. “I think I get what you’re trying to say, but just for clarity, are you saying that you like being bossed about?”
“I... Well, it doesn’t sound great when you phrase it like that…” Prim sighed, the tension returning to her shoulders.
“Frankly, I refuse to partake in such behavior, even at your request. I detest being ordered about, and I wouldn’t dream of intentionally subjecting you to that kind of treatment, especially not you. I also wouldn’t tolerate anyone else addressing you in such a manner.”
Prim’s laughter filled the room, a soothing balm to the disquiet in his words.
“Of course, you wouldn’t enjoy it! You’re an Alpha!” Her fingers traced a gentle path from his hair down his neck until they found a resting spot on his shoulders. His skin prickled beneath her touch, the ripple of goosebumps unmissable. “It’s not quite ‘being ordered about’... not the way you’re probably picturing it…. Goodness, I’m really fumbling with this conversation…”
“Despite our meeting having been... rather intimate, it appears you are asking me to... treat you as I treat the rest. That’s something I can’t commit to…Not until we become more familiar with each other, and even then, I’m not certain it would be conducive to the type of relationship I aspire to with you. I am aware my disposition is…not exactly amiable, and the last thing I want is to push you away with-“
“I know you can be a bit…surly.” Her grin was evident in her voice, her eyes sparkling with humor, diffusing the tension hanging in the air. “I’ve heard tales of your famous…’not exactly amiable’ disposition, courtesy of Anne.”
“Is that so?” His brows knitted together in a mock scowl that made her heart flutter - a tantalizing temptation to place a comforting kiss on his forehead. She held herself back.
“Oh, absolutely. Anne painted a fantastically detailed picture for me. I know all about your trademark ‘Sallow-weary sigh.’” She said, laughing at his indignant huff, his breath ruffled her hair. “But that’s beside the point. As an Omega, I can’t thrive without a grounding force. The people I surround myself with need to be dominant, it’s why Omega don’t group together, it makes us nervous and scattered…I know we haven’t known each other long, and I wouldn’t tell you this if I didn’t trust you…. Darn, I’m really messing this up. What I’m trying to say is that your direction…taking control…doesn’t intimidate me. It’s actually the opposite. It centers me. That urge you have to make my problems your own mirrors my pull to comfort and care for you over myself. It's instinctual and I need it if you are going to be in my life for any extended period. Ugh, I wish Papa were here. He could explain this better…Or Anne, she knows-”
“You suggest I should ask Anne because you’ve allowed her similar liberties?” His brows knitted further, his lips pulled into a frown.
“No, of course not!” Prim stumbled over her words in her haste to correct his misunderstanding. “It was my Papa who gave her that.”
“What?” His body stiffened, face reddening, and jaw taut. An odd exhilaration kindled along Prim’s spine. Her withdrawn Omega responded with a satisfied purr to his agitated state. “Anne didn’t express any intention to court you, did she?... No, she couldn’t have. You two are merely friends.” He visibly shook off the errant notions, releasing the tension coiled in his shoulders. “I beg your pardon, both Anne and Sebastian are cherished friends of mine, but my instincts are leading my mind towards... absurd deductions.”
“It’s alright,” she offered. Her mother’s words about Alpha’s occasional irrationality echoed in her mind. “Are you... feeling better now?”
“Indeed I am,” he confirmed softly, gently extricating himself from her. His eyes haze, showing no traces of the ire from before. “Our circumstances are peculiar, but your understanding is much appreciated. Your presence has kindled... an array of unfamiliar sensations and desires. Not all of them are easily reined.”
“I completely understand. Even now I’ve got some strange urges that I’m dealing with...”
“Such as?”
“Errr…” The question felt too personal, too intimate, yet Ominis’s curiosity seemed innocent enough. She should be open, she reminded herself... Perhaps share the less lecherous impulses. “My nest. This space is too open and I’m itching to move it to somewhere more confined and-”
“Defendable.”
“Exactly!”
“Ah, I resonate with that, although mine is more about... fortifying the territory and securing resources and... supplies?” His brows creased in thought, “I’m heartened to know this is an impulse we both share. Now that my faculties are restored and my hormones are subdued, I’m still left with a sense of... restlessness, a kind of buzzing energy beneath my skin prompting me to stay active, to prepare. It’s a novel feeling, really, particularly after taking suppressants. To say the least, it’s quite disconcerting...”
“I’ve got the same thing! Like pins and needles everywhere, but not wholly unpleasant.” Prim sprung lightly on her toes, relieved that she wasn’t alone in her inexplicable feelings. “I feel an urgent need to... mark everything in this room with my scent, not just my nesting space, but every single object.”
“The crates and dusty books as well?”
“Everything that doesn’t smell right needs to smell right...and then rearange my nest until...until?”
"It garners my approval?" He snorted, "we've already been through that one, quite entertaining is what it was."
Her laughter echoed in response to his baffled expression, prodding him playfully in his side, “Don’t you dare chuckle at me, my Papa is an Alpha, and I’m well aware you folks have far stranger habits than merely scent-marking random objects!”
“Alright, alright, I concede. I was only teasing.” His expression softened as his laughter harmonized with Prim’s.
“Whatever is happening to us, I’m grateful for this little lull…And I’m beyond relieved that we found our heads before Anne returned and caught us…Uh…In a compromising position..”
“Most definitely.” Ominis’s eyes flitted restlessly, lips pursed, as his hands returned to his pockets. “And thanks to the suppressants, I won’t be at risk of attacking Anne for intruding.”
“Don’t worry, I would’ve stepped in if you tried to attack her,” Prim assured him. Her instincts longed to comfort him further, to convince him his control was stronger than any Alpha instinct, but that would be stretching the truth...
A common thread of understanding ran amongst Omega, an unspoken consensus of the fierce wildfire that could engulf an Alpha - the raging, indomitable beast that would rear its head to shield their Omega or young from any inkling of harm. This hard-hitting fact had been imprinted on Prim’s consciousness from an early age, its intensity undimmed by time. Omegas being a rarity, society often overlooked this raw, potent energy that could grip an Alpha in their presence.
Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind, a sound clip on loop: When the potent rush of protective fury first seizes an Alpha, it leaves them stunned, like a boat caught in a storm. Now, holding the echoes of her mother’s wisdom, Prim knew it was her turn to navigate through this uncharted terrain.
“And how, exactly, would you have stopped an Alpha?” His question bore an implicit weight as if he anticipated her to suggest that she might overpower him physically. Considering his build and scent, he was a far cry from the archetypical Alpha. Prim’s eyes rounded as she realized this might be a sore subject for him.
It shouldn’t be, the man was perfection in Prim’s eyes.
She huffed, lips curling as she realized she had the perfect excuse to touch Ominis.
“I’d put my mouth…” Reaching forward, her fingertips skimmed the pallid skin of his neck. Ominis stiffened, his eyes sealed shut as he released a controlled exhale while she traced the small raised patch of skin, his mating gland. “... right here, and lick…until you can focus on nothing but me.” She recalled her mother employing the same technique whenever her father’s Alpha side became unruly. Prim would be more than happy to do the same for Ominis if the need arose...
“... Is that…right?” His pulse fluttered under her fingertips, matching the rapid beat of her own heart.
“Would you like…a demonstration?” Prim asked, her voice strange, sultry, as if spoken by a stranger. A woman with experience- Prim supposed she was experienced now.
Ominis swallowed, licking his lips.
“I insist on it.” His breath fluttered out in a delicate rhythm, his eyes twitching beneath their shut lids.
Hands meandering to settle on his shoulders, she gingerly inched forward, rising to her toes. Ominis pulled his hands from his pockets, ensnaring Prim’s waist to balance her. She had no excuse for her forward behavior, only the magnetic pull between her and the Alpha before her.
He stooped down, canting his head and offering his neck. A whirlwind of flutters swarmed within her chest like a horde of pixies held captive within her ribcage.
Tilting her chin, her breath fanned hot over his neck, he gasped, hands squeezing her waist.
“Merlin’s tits!” Ominis and Prim reacted as if stung, breaking apart in a quick, fluid movement as the elevator doors clattered open with a resonating bang.
Anne stood in the entrance, her silhouette outlined by the soft glow filtering in from the elevator, her lips curved in a grin ripe with amusement. “The sweet scent’s so thick I could die choking on it!”
Prim’s gaze found a fascinating interest in the floor, her eyebrows hitching upwards in silent commentary on the distance she had sprung from Ominis. A noteworthy achievement for her, given their earlier proximity. Her fingers knotted together in front of her, a telltale sign of her nerves.
“Would that you do,” Ominis retorted, his glare locking on Anne, his fingers raking through his hair, ruining all of Prims earlier efforts. “Some warning next time, Anne!”
“What would you have me do, Ominis? Piss down the shaft before headin’ down?”
“You literally have an arsenal of spells and charms at your disposal. I’m sure you could come up with something that excluded your bodily functions.”
“It’s no’ my fault you were too busy listening to Prim tonging you! Really, you two?” Anne’s laughter bounced off the walls, shattering the solemn mood. A dismissive wave of her hand indicated the space that a moment earlier had been electric with Prim and Ominis’s proximity. “What is with you, jumping like frightened mooncalves over a wee bit of necking, when I’ve already keeked you pumpin’ the lassie.”
“Oh, Anne, please no…”
“How foul.” Ominis’ face tensed, a thunderstorm brewing in his frosty eyes. “You could stand to practice a little discretion,” he snapped, the crisp edge in his voice slicing through the laughter that hung in the air. “If Primrose had a wand, I would use this opportunity to teach her the Obliviate charm using you as an example.”
“Och, I’d allow it. I’m no’ keen on recalling my wee friend takin’ the brunt of you. And if you found the deed so foul that’s between you and Prim, no need to tell me about it….at least no’ in front of the poor lassie.” Anne said, twisting his words and cackling at their expense. Prim covered her face with her hands. How awful. “A wee bit dusty here for you to have cast scourgify, no? I’d have thought it’d be a great deal sticker down here-”
“Anne!” Prim cried, raising a hand toward her friend, “Please stop, you’re making this awkward!” A fiery blush burned her cheeks, spreading down her neck like devil's snare growing in the dark. "Please dont!" She protested, her voice muffled as she hid behind a curtain of hair.
“Och, I do have a proper question for you, Ominis.” Anne said, ignoring Prim's pleads, her words laced with impending mischief.
A noticeable twitch ran through Ominis’s jaw, the air rushing out from between his clenched teeth in an exasperated sigh. “Get on with it, Anne.”
“Did you bleed much when she claimed your innocence?” Anne collapsed into a fit of unrestrained laughter. Prim covered her mouth, unable to suppress her own mirth at the outrageous banter between the two alphas, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement coloring her cheeks.
Ominis prickled at the onslaught of Anne’s relentless teasing, scarlet staining from the back of his neck all the way up to his ears. His wand swept out from his pocket with a decisive snap and with a growled “Silencio” and a twist of his wrist, a shimmering silence bubble encapsulated the howling witch.
“Peace at last,” he muttered under his breath before turning his attention to Prim. “I must apologize for Anne, she...”
“Ha, I know how she is.” Prim reassured him, the corners of her mouth twitching.
“Very good then.” Ominis pocketed his wand, a look of mild bemusement crossing his face. It was an odd sight, observing someone in the throes of silent laughter. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you snickering at her antics, Primrose…”
“S-sorry.” She said, biting her lip to keep from laughing. “I hadn’t realized you were a virgin too.” Ominis stiffened at the comment, worrying his wand.
“I suppose I should take that as flattery. After all, I received a congratulatory handshake for my debut performance,” he teased, a low chuckle escaping him, “I may lack firsthand experience, but I’m not entirely ignorant on the subject. Living with a bunch of alpha males has its informative moments, after all…”
As Anne’s laughter faded, she straightened, pulling her own wand and dispelling the quieting bubble around her with a flick.
“Have a good time?” Prim asked, brow raised as she shot a grin in Anne’s direction.
“Oh, aye” Anne said, sauntering up to Prim. Her stride was confident, every step echoing with the authority she held in her own right. “How’s it feel to no’ be a virgin? You needin’ a little Episkey for your cunny, lassie?”
“Merlin’s filthy beard, Anne, sod off!” Ominis said. If looks could kill, that barrel to the left of Anne would be dead.
“Och, alright, alright! Donnae fash you posh nob.” Anne caved, rolling her eyes. Before Prim could even think to react, Anne closed the gap between them, seizing Prim’s arm and pulling her into a warm, firm hug. Prim, still simmering in humiliation, leaned into Anne’s embrace, nestling into the solid strength of her friend.. “He do right by you? Treat you proper, like a gentleman ought?” Anne’s voice was barely more than a whisper, her words stirring the curls atop Prim’s head.
“Yes, he was... he was wonderful,” Prim confessed, her smile blooming amidst the warmth of Anne’s hold. “He was such a gentleman I’d give him an award for it if I had one.” Anne shook with silent laughter at Prim’s words.
“I’m struggling not to eavesdrop, but you two are making it remarkably difficult,” Ominis grumbled, a furrowed frown marring his face. “Anne, your attentions have gone on quite long enough. Need I remind you Primrose needs air to survive?”
“A jealous wee git, is he no’?” Anne teased, a playful gleam in her eyes.
“I can’t say I don’t like it,” Prim whispered, her voice barely audible, hoping Ominis wouldn’t catch her words. But judging by the blush painting his cheeks a heated red, he did.
“I ken you have a type, Prim.” Anne chuckled, her laughter echoing around the room, a clear taunt in Ominis’ direction. “Oh, Ominis, you really need to loosen up,” she said, a twinkle of mirth in her eyes despite Ominis’ visible annoyance. Anne’s laughter tapered off as her gaze zeroed in on a spot on Prim’s neck. Her eyes widened in shock as her hand reached out to tilt Prim’s head to the side for a better view.
A gasp hitched in her throat. “Ominis!” she accused, her voice sharp with indignation. “Bit the wee lassie hard, no?”
“What?” A look of confusion flashed across Ominis’s face, his brows furrowing, eyes shifting as if shuffling through memory and growing wide with horror as he registered what must have happened.
His brand stamped into Prim’s pale flesh, a remnant of his passion from earlier.
“You missed her gland by about half a centimeter… I donnae ken any will tease you for it, you blind sod…Least no’ much. Best have another go at it- but aim better. Should I direct you to where your teeth need to go to mark her proper? Draw you a map perhaps?” Anne quipped, her teasing tone cutting through the tension.
Ominis, caught up in the waves of regret washing over him, rushed towards Prim. “Primrose, I... I didn’t mean to... I…Gracious, I handled you so rough and neglected to heal you,” he stuttered, his words fumbling over themselves in a mix of guilt and concern. He gingerly reached out to cup her face, his other hand wielding his wand.
Prim instinctively pulled away, a protective hand covering the fresh wound. A dot of red pulsed from the tip of his wand and he gasped, “Merlin, I knew I broke skin but I didn’t think it was so deep. Move your hand, darling, I’ll tend it right away.”
“Absolutely not!” Prim’s voice echoed through the room, the intensity surprising even her. “I want it to stay.” Her words held a staunch determination, resonating with an innate desire buried deep within her, a primal instinct to keep the mark of her Alpha.
Anne, observing this unexpected twist, cocked her head in thoughtful curiosity. “You know, it’s incredibly close to your mating gland,” she observed, her fingers showing the short distance from the wound to Prim’s gland. Her gaze studied the bite mark with a renewed interest, the playful banter earlier giving way to more serious scrutiny. “It’s not the silvery sheen that the book suggests a proper mating bite of an Alpha and Omega mated pair should be,” she mused, “but then again, not everyone would know that without thorough research.”
She paused, her gaze flitting between Prim and Ominis, an understanding smile slowly forming on her lips. “I think you should leave it,” she advised. “It could only help. Serve as proof if his scent is no’ enough, you ken?” Her tone was confident and resolute, leaving no room for argument or doubt. The bite mark, it seemed, was more than just a passionate memory, it was a symbol, a temporary testament to an evolving bond that neither Prim nor Ominis fully comprehended yet.
A flush of warmth tinged Prim’s cheeks, a blush that rivaled the reddened mark on her neck. With a bashful nod, she eagerly conceded to Anne’s unexpected wisdom, her heart fluttering at the prospect of retaining the mark.
Ominis, his unfocused gaze anchored on Prim, casually lifted his wand, murmuring “Accio!” The spell hung in the air for a fleeting moment before his discarded scarf darted towards him like a dog returning to its master. He snatched it mid-flight, swiftly dusting off any dirt that clung to the rich material. His actions were quick, yet tender, as he draped the scarf around Prim’s neck, concealing the bloody indention of his teeth from perspective onlookers.
“Och, and here you nearly ripped my head off for touching your scarf in the great hall… Best no’ to cover the mark, Ominis. It would do for the others to see your claim.” Anne’s protest was immediate, a huff of frustration escaping her lips. “Why am I having to repeat myself so bloody much today?”
Ominis, his eyes resolute and his voice carrying a tone of finality, silenced her. “Anne, your reasoning is sound,” he conceded, his gaze softening as his eyes darted, head canting toward Anne. “And we will keep the mark. However,” he paused, “it remains a personal affair. An intimate exchange between Prim and me. If others catch sight of the mark, so be it. But for now, my scent will suffice.”
The declaration, laced with a possessive undertone, coaxed a rich, gratifying purr from Prim. The sound, unanticipated yet wholly satisfying, reverberated in the quiet room. A mild cough succeeded the purr as Prim grasped that she was now the sole focus of the two Alphas, amusement twinkling in their eyes.
Ominis, his features relaxed in a show of fondness, and Anne, her face alight with amusement, shared a chuckle.
“Aww, finally found a lassie keen on that brooding snob attitude of yours. Good for you, pal! I’m dead chuffed for you both!” Anne’s cheer rang out, adding a note of warmth to the significant change in the room.
“I can’t deny that our arrangement pleases me.”
“Was that thanks i just heard?”
“Hardly.”
Prim’s laughter faded as they boarded the elevator and stepped out of theclockface into the dim-lit hallway, their footsteps echoing in the stillness. Anne’s sharp voice, a stark contrast to the peaceful evening air, shattered the tranquility. “So, Ominis, what do you plan on telling your Da?” Her query hung heavily between them, casting a threatening shadow over their fresh-found happiness.
Prim’s gaze slid to Ominis, alerted by a discernible shift in his stance. His usually rigid frame stiffened further, his countenance hardened, lips drawn into a tight line. Had Prim encountered such a stone-cold figure on a lonely street, she would have detoured to avoid crossing his path. He appeared icy and menacing.
His scent shifted tart and heavy, stinging Prim’s senses. The atmosphere, now tainted with this change, felt... disquieting.
Guided by intuition, Prim reached out, her fingers slipping into his with a delicate certainty. The effect was both immediate and soothing, a silent beacon of solidarity in the face of the encroaching uncertainty. His fingers twitched as if taken aback before they relaxed and intertwined with hers in tacit acceptance of her gesture. His shoulders lost some of their tension, yet his expression kept its hard set.
Would his family disapprove of her?
An involuntary shiver ran down Prim’s spine as she bit her lip, leaning into Ominis. His intense reaction to Anne’s question suggested potential complications...
Prim made a mental note to request dueling lessons from Anne.
His response, when it finally came, was terse and guarded. “One hurdle at a time, Anne.”