Obsidian Heat

Chapter Four

Isme thought his day, his week, never mind his whole life, couldn't get any worse, until he was curled up on an omega's couch with a blanket almost lovingly tucked over him and the omega himself passed out in the recliner next to him, snoring, his feet propped up and still clad in socks. The omega knew his secret. He knew about the cutting, and he wasn't okay with it, exactly, but his reaction wasn't what Isme expected. He tried to sleep but every sound was too loud. The omega's snoring. The omega's heartbeat. Even his smell was too strong. Isme put a pillow over his head and moaned. Even the clock ticking away on the wall sounded like a bomb going off. Periodically he watched the time. Midnight passed into two a.m.

He found himself pulled along by circumstances. He'd meant to refuse the omega's offer. He'd just met the guy. He was trying to stay single. And he was an omega, reason enough to stay away. But some annoying compulsion had made him say yes. It was already starting, then, despite the omega's reassurances. Jonah, Isme said to himself. Jonah. He wouldn't be like them. He wouldn't be like those prejudiced assholes on the council, the elitist power-hungry nutjobs in the ten Houses. Even if they paid his salary, technically, somewhere down the line.

Three a.m. passed and Isme growled, throwing off his blanket to go fetch a glass of water from the kitchen. His throat burned. It was then that he heard it. A blood-curdling scream. Jumping, he twirled around in the kitchen, hackles raised for an intruder. Then he peered over at Jonah. He crept closer to him and took a good look at him. He was big, broad-shouldered, his blanket barely covering his barrel-shaped torso, long legs extending beyond the fringe. His wild, tousled, auburn hair could have used an intense grooming session, but his goatee with flecks of gray was neatly trimmed. Then his mouth opened and he screamed again. Isme jumped back, then studied him closer.

His eyes were closed. A nightmare, then. He tried shaking him awake, but he didn't stir. The screams kept coming. Did he sleep like this every night? He punched him in the shoulder next, and not even a flinch. He tore the blanket off him and held it precariously in one hand. Those screams stirred something dark and twisted in Isme. He wouldn't be the kind of alpha who hurt Jonah like this. It must have been a war memory. Nothing he tried got a reaction, so he sighed. Jonah was so big he dwarfed him, so he did the last thing on his list. He crawled up onto his torso, rested his head on the man's thick chest, and wrapped the blanket around them both.

He flinched as Jonah's arms wrapped possessively around him, but his breathing steadied, and the screams stopped. It had been a long time since Isme had hugged anyone like this, not even Duncan, who hated affection. He was stiff at first, moving around to get comfortable, but then Jonah's arms only held him tighter and he finally relented. Sleep came quicker than he expected.

The next morning, six a.m. came rude and early. Isme expected the big omega to throw him off the recliner and berate him for invading his personal space like this. But when he stirred, he only grunted and leaned his head back. "I should have told you," he said, his hand reflexively stroking Isme's hair before he realized what he was doing and stopped. Isme wished he'd kept going. "I get nightmares most nights. From the war. I'm usually alone, but the neighbors sometimes complain about the screams."

Isme made a face. "They were awful," he said. "Is this okay? It was the only thing that seemed to help."

"I don't mind," grunted Jonah. "It makes my fox stop being restless for one damn second. I thought you would mind, though."

Isme frowned and left his arms. "It helped me sleep," he shrugged. "I should take a shower and get to work. I start at 7."

Jonah threw the blanket off his body and rose to his feet. "I'm making you breakfast, then."