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Gustave paced restlessly in his living room, his weight creaking the floorboards under his feet. He checked his watch for the third time that hour: ten fifty-five a.m. The social worker was due to drop off his new charge at eleven.
He hadn’t slept a wink the night before, too nervous to shut his eyes for more than a few minutes.
Following the death of his first mate, Sophie, Gustave had been left despondent for months. Grief counseling helped some, as did private talk therapy. But there was no erasing his biology: an Alpha without its mate was destined for a shorter lifespan and higher stress levels.
He lucked out when on his way to a therapy appointment, he saw a brochure for a special program for Alphas with a deceased or rejected mate to “adopt” a feral Omega. Hope was a thin sliver inside his chest; he called the director from the waiting room.
“The wait list is well over a year,” she had warned him. “It’s partly by accident, but sometimes it’s a really good indicator of who’s committed to this sort of thing or not.”
She’d also cautioned that most Alphas found another mate or simply fell too ill to care for an Omega before their placement came up. Gustave didn’t let himself rejoice too quickly, holding out for the day they would find him a suitable match. He had passed all their written requirements, submitting a few repetitive essays on why he’d be an excellent caretaker. In addition, he’d acquired a letter from both his therapist and grief counselor. Next, he’d undergone a psych eval with one of the program’s physicians, which he passed with flying colors.
Then it became a matter of waiting.
He’d finished the screening process last December. It was October now, and he’d gotten the phone call from the social worker only a week before.
“She’s had it rough,” she explained. “But she seems fairly even-tempered and she’s smart as a whip. Been living on the streets since she was a teenager. Needs a job, I think. And someone gentle to come home to at the end of the day.”
A knock at the door yanked Gustave from his thoughts. Ten fifty-nine a.m. He sprinted for the door, throwing it open.
There stood a girl maybe five or six inches shorter than him. She was rail thin and more than a bit haunted-looking. Straggly red hair fell into her face in a cascade of snarls; Gustave’s fingers itched to untangle and wash it until it shined like good copper.
Burn scars twisted the right side of her face. One eye was gone, just an empty socket with some scar tissue to cover it up. Her left eye was still intact, and seemed healthy – she peered up at him warily.
He was struck by how blue it was, pale and bright like the moon. If he had to guess, her age hovered somewhere around twenty years.
“Come in,” he gestured, smiling politely at the social worker who followed after.
He indicated his couch, but the worker shook her head in courteous declination. The Omega stared hard at him, her gaze taking in his prosthetic arm with only passing interest. Her expression was sullen and silent, but nonaggressive as she took in his appearance.
The worker was introducing them, not that Gustave or the girl was really paying attention.
“Maelle, this is Gustave. Gustave, this is your new Omega, Maelle.”
He’d learned the name from the database once the match had been made, but company policy forbade any exchanging of photographs. This was mostly for everyone’s privacy, but it also forced a new Alpha and Omega pairing to meet each other based off of scent rather than only sight.
And Maelle smelled lovely.
It was fainter than Sophie’s had been – less floral, and more woodsy. Maelle was the ground beginning to thaw after a harsh winter, sap-laden pinewood and maple trees swollen with sugary syrup.
Sophie had once told Gustave that his own scent was very complimentary – fresh honey and grass warmed by the hot summer sunshine.
He could barely remember Sophie’s at all in that moment. Maelle’s consumed his focus, and it took the social worker several tries to get him to look over at her.
“Does she have any materials available?” the woman asked.
Gustave glanced at her and then smiled back at the tiny Omega in front of him. “Already upstairs,” he answered with a smile.
Once she had left, and both he and Maelle were alone in the room together, Gustave quietly showed the girl her new room – already with a few blankets and some brand-new sheets on her bed. “You can build your nest wherever you’d prefer,” he said. “If you want it somewhere else, just tell me and I can help you move stuff around. I just figured you’d prefer the mattress.”
She still hadn’t said anything. He wondered if the scars on her throat were the issue or if she were merely too feral to speak anymore. He wondered if he’d ever get to hear her voice.
“Maelle,” he spoke as she explored her new surroundings with tense curiosity. Despite his prior offer, she was already picking up and rearranging the limited items he'd provided for her nest, shoving them in a specific manner that only made sense to her.
He couldn't help but grin. “Welcome home.”
The first couple of weeks were relatively easy, with only a handful of ups and downs as the pair grew used to each other.
Gustave learned fast that Maelle hated to be touched, and he went out of his way to give her as much space as possible. That aside, she did permit him to buy her some new outfits, prepare her meals and occasionally scent-mark her doorway. On days where she seemed especially withdrawn and anxious, he would try rumbling soothingly in her direction. Sometimes it worked, and other times not.
He also realized that her voice did, in fact, work just fine.
She only became defensive once, when he’d accidentally cornered her between the end of the hallway and her bedroom. He had made to walk past her, but the corridor was a little too narrow for them to squeeze by each other. Maelle’s door was shut, and so there was no place for her to retreat.
She hissed and snapped, “Get away from me!” She cowered near the closet and growled, but made no attempt to strike out at him.
Gustave backed into his own room on soft tiptoe. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I was just on my way to the bathroom.”
Maelle jogged past him, shooting him a filthy look and baring her teeth. He watched her go with tender amusement, impressed by her bravado.
He assumed this to be a setback in their relationship. For the rest of the week, he left her entirely alone, leaving food out for her but not summoning her for meals. He cleaned her clothes only when she dumped them in front of the washing machine for him. The last thing Gustave wanted was for her to stay afraid of him.
To his shock later that evening, Maelle joined him on the couch. She shimmied underneath the blanket around his shoulders and pressed her cold toes against his thigh, sighing in a contented way. She shut her eye trustfully, even letting him tug her closer so that she wouldn’t be cold.
“Did the agency tell you I’m infertile?” she asked out of the blue.
“Nope,” he admitted honestly. “Not that it was a requirement or anything. I don’t need to have pups to have a fulfilling life.”
She frowned and played with a loose thread in the upholstery. “I spent most of my life in a coffin,” she said, not speaking to anyone in particular.
“You had a hard life,” he agreed. “I hope things are easier now. Or, at least, I hope that I can share some of that pain a little, take it away from you.”
Maelle shook her head. “There wasn’t any pain,” she replied. “There was just the tiny box I wasn’t allowed to escape from, and then the dirt over me, and then my parents’ hateful words filtering in through the ceiling. The fire was my ticket to freedom – I wasn’t pretty enough for them to show off anymore.”
Neither of them said anything after that. About an hour later, he noticed that she had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He decided the numb arm was worth it.
It didn’t take him long to figure out her sudden shift in demeanor.
It began the following morning when he noticed that a lot of shit kept going missing.
First was the blanket they’d shared in the living room. He falsely assumed Maelle had brought it to the laundry room for him to toss into the machine. She loved rubbing her face on it when she thought he wasn’t looking, letting her scent blend with his and making his chest swell affectionately at the sight.
Now some of his clothes were gone. A handful of work shirts – three clean and two dirty – had been pilfered shamelessly from both the open closet as well as the hamper.
Gustave suspected he knew what she was doing, but he didn’t wish to confront her about it right away. He merely went about his day, locating an older, mustier-smelling but still functional shirt to button up as he went towards the kitchen. From the corner of his eye, he saw Maelle dart into his bedroom and steal his pillowcase and another blanket.
He made their breakfast, calmly flipping eggs and humming to himself. He let his Alpha pheromones permeate the room, hoping it would entice her into eating. He knew that the start of Maelle’s heat would no doubt leave her with a diminished appetite. His instincts whispered that his Omega needed to keep up her strength.
She did eventually materialize, skittish and avoidant as she sat down to pick at her meal.
“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Gustave asked.
Maelle fidgeted and peered over her shoulder, back to her own room. “Uncomfortable,” she admitted after a moment, finally turning around to look at him.
“Do you want a lock for your door?” he suggested, chewing a piece of toast. He swallowed it. “To keep your nest safe.”
At the word nest, she jerked in her chair and glared at him distrustfully. “How did-“
Gustave couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. “I’m not blind, my dear.”
He rushed to fill the stony silence that followed. “I don’t mind!” He brushed imaginary crumbs from the table. “It’s only natural. Take as many of my belongings as you need. Just try to leave me at least a sheet to sleep under, if you think of it.”
Maelle mumbled something under her breath and bent down to shovel egg into her mouth.
By that night, she had retreated fully into her bedroom, not coming out for love or money. She turned down his offer of putting a lock on the door (Gustave did make a quick run to the hardware store as a precaution), but kept it firmly shut anyway. At suppertime, he placed a covered plate in front of the door and walked away.
He decided to sequester himself in his favorite armchair and get some journaling done while waiting for the worst of Maelle’s heat to dissipate. Sophie had such short heat cycles, usually getting through them in a weekend. He wondered if this Omega would be the same way.
The door to Maelle’s bedroom opened, but he did not hear it close. There came the padding of quiet feet on the wooden floors.
“Gustave?” she asked, her voice breaking on the second syllable.
She sounded so needy, but he didn’t dare turn around. Her scent was so overpowering, her heat almost palpable on his tongue, that it made Gustave feel as though he were in rut. She smelled so fucking good, and his nostrils flared to catch her scent.
He clenched his teeth against his own desires. “Yes, Maelle?” he replied, struggling to sound casual.
“Can I-“ she began, then faltered, several times. “Can you…can we…”
“Are you sure?” he leaned over his chair and regretted it. She was stark naked aside from one of his shirts, and facing her direction meant that her smell was hitting him square in the face. Her outfit choice revealed not only the small breasts peeking out from around a coat pocket, but also the patch of auburn hair between her legs. Gustave growled without thinking about the consequences, low and possessive, and was pleased to see Maelle shudder in response.
He swallowed the second growl before it could erupt from him. With tenuous patience, he waited for her to go on.
“Join me in my nest?” she offered shyly. “I can’t do this by myself. I thought maybe I could, that it would be easier, but-“
“Shhh.” Gustave soothed her with another rumble and rose from his seat.
He had purchased a knotting toy the day after she’d arrived, intending for her to use it while they waited to see if they were a good fit as mates. Evidently, however, it had proven ineffective. It sat abandoned on Maelle’s nightstand, waiting for its owner to come back for it.
She took her hand in his, and Gustave’s knees wobbled and nearly gave out. Her skin was so warm, almost fiery, under his touch. He slid a careful hand up her spine, letting his palm rest heavily along the back of her neck.
“Good girl,” he praised, again without filtering his words. “You held out for as long as you could, didn’t you? You tried so hard, I’m proud of you for being strong.”
She hiccupped, and he twisted the wispy hairs at the nape of her neck around his finger. “Now let me take care of it. It’s all going to be okay.”
He picked her up and lowered her into her nest, laid out as it was with his things and only a smattering of hers to accompany them. He slipped his shirt off her shoulders and buried it somewhere nearby.
Gustave admired the way his hand engulfed one breast, his thumb and forefinger tweaking the nipple. She had freckles everywhere, even ones hiding beneath her scars, and he nosed each of them reverently.
Then he moved on to kissing every single part of her he could reach, starting with her lips before continuing to both ear lobes, her eyelid, all of it.
Maelle whined impatiently, whimpering and pumping out pheromones that dragged his focus away from her delicate, pale skin and to the sweet cunt that beckoned him at the apex of her thighs.
“Not yet,” he scolded when she tried reaching for his cock. He ignored how hard he was, happily dipping his tongue between her folds. For all her complaining, Maelle welcomed his mouth readily, spreading herself wide for him to appreciate her taste.
He suckled at her swollen clit, drawing a powerful moan from her throat. “Gustave,” she pleaded. “More, please.”
There was not a single part of her he was not desperate to indulge in as he tongued her little cunt until her orgasmed, her climax cresting onto his chin and soaking into his beard.
“Now for the rest,” he explained, peering at her worriedly. “Are you sure?”
Maelle was panting above him. She seemed somewhat delirious and overstimulated, but nodded readily once she had caught her breath.
She had never known an Alpha cock, and Gustave meant for her first time to be slower than this. “It won’t fit,” she argued weakly, but wriggled in frustration when he recommended they take a break.
She did not settle until he fisted his length and guided it carefully between her legs. He could almost feel the pulse echoing through her pink vulva as he entered her.
Her center was wet and tight around him, squeezing his cock and leaving him momentarily short of breath. “See?” he nearly stammered but caught himself. “It fits. You’re doing good.”
The initial thrusts were fumbling and shallow as he allowed her body to adjust to his size. He let out a whimper of his own and nuzzled at the scent glands in her neck. He would not bite down unless she commanded him to, so instead he let her smell envelop him as he found his rhythm.
Tears pricked at the corners of Maelle’s eyes, and her tone became higher pitched with each passing minute. “Ah, ah, ah!” she cried, and Gustave grew bolder at the sound, fucking her more roughly as she came again.
“So sweet,” he whispered. “How beautiful you are, like this. Letting me take whatever I need from you.”
She answered him with a keening moan. She twisted her head sharply and attempted to bite at his metal wrist.
He laughed lightly and pecked her cheek. “No scent gland there, my girl,” he told her with a grin.
Maelle grumbled at him but acquiesced, allowing him to offer up his other arm as he shifted his weight onto his prosthesis. She sank her teeth into the skin there very happily, and Gustave grunted at the sudden pain. He felt his knot start to swell, his orgasm fast approaching.
Their whole apartment stank like Alpha and Omega, the unmistakable smells of two mates finally coming together leaving no space untouched. Maelle pulled her teeth away to lap at the blood, the pain immediately dissipating under her ministrations.
It was Gustave’s turn to feel overwhelmed, groaning in pleasure as his knot locked inside her cunt and kept them bound. His self control seemed thinner as Maelle sobbed wantonly.
“Gustave,” she murmured into his ear. “I’m close. I want you to mark me.”
He was determined to have her finish again before he bit her. “Go on,” he encouraged her breathlessly. “Just fall apart for me. Let it happen.”
She clenched around his length, and he came with her, the first round sealing their fate. She tipped her neck off to one side, exposing the gland there. Her hair was splayed out across the pillows, thick and shimmering even in the poor lighting of the apartment.
He bit down without hesitation, and her taste surrounded him. He suckled at the blood, making sure to leave a nice, clear mark.
Maelle was finally, finally his.
Once the initial joy of their bond forming wore off, she began to shift in discomfort, his knot proving too much for her to manage. There was no doubt in Gustave’s mind that she was far beyond the point of agitation, nearly reaching full-on panic as she realized they were tied.
“This is the difficult part,” he confessed. “But you can do it. I know you can. It’s only for a little while, okay? Then you can have a bath after.”
He panicked when she started to cry, unsure as to why she was so upset. Maelle was staring enviously at the old claiming bite along the space between Gustave’s neck and shoulder, the last remnant of his bond with Sophie.
Gustave recognized that he probably hadn’t acted this way since he had been with his previous mate, but she seemed so far away and unimportant now. He knew they needed to have a detailed discussion about Sophie at some point, but what mattered in this moment was the slender redheaded girl pinned under his weight.
“Hey,” he muttered against the spray of freckles along her collarbone. Her comfort was his biggest priority. “She was a part of my life then, and sadly she’s gone.”
Maelle’s gaze softened minutely. Emboldened by this, he continued. “But you’re here now. You’re mine, and I’m yours. That’s what matters.”
“Don’t leave me,” she murmured faintly.
Another wave was coming, and Gustave knew he’d have to be quick if his new mate was to ride it out without any pain.
“Never,” he vowed. “Not now that I have this wonderful Omega all to myself.”
Maelle purred and pressed the tiniest of kisses to his shoulder. It was the most relaxed he had ever seen her. Even his knot did not trouble her, her knees falling aside so that he could lie down with his head on her chest.
They both settled into for a long nap as they waited for the future.