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“Oh, wow.”
Clorinde looks up from her computer. Wriothesley is staring at her with raised eyebrows. For a moment, she worries they might grow wings and fly away from the sheer force of his apparent shock. But no, they remain perfectly in place, and so does her growing annoyance.
“You look like shit.” And there it is, words worthy of the man Clorinde had affectionately nicknamed her most dearly beloathed friend. Wriothesley sits down on the chair across her table, clearly not minding his manners at all. “Anything happening at home?”
Clorinde sighs, saving the file with her progress before fully turning her attention to the other alpha. She doesn’t say anything at first. She isn’t sure what to say. No. Nothing out of the ordinary happened in the past days. Yes. Something is still utterly, irrevocably wrong. Maybe. Kind of.
“It’s complicated,” she breathes out. Wriothesley hums, making himself even more comfortable. Clorinde snorts inelegantly. “You really have nothing better to do?”
“And miss out on my favorite girls’ newest gossipy drama? Dream on.” Wriothesley smirks, but his eyes tell a very different story. There’s concern in them, so deep and genuine behind the playful facade that Clorinde feels all her defenses melting away. “So? How complicated is it?”
Another heavy, heavy sigh escapes Clorinde’s lips. She glances down at her own hands. The truth is… She has no idea. It isn’t like there even is anything wrong. She can’t think of anything out of the ordinary happening in the past few weeks and, really, that’s a miracle when you have a baby in your home.
Their little Will is an angel, all things considered—but he also has a penchant for catching every small cold and virus he sees in the way. That they went so long without a trip to the doctor is… A little jarring, really. And Clorinde says it with all the love and affection of a mother who wanted to be a mother.
But the thing is that, well, given how peaceful things are right now, she would expect things to be well between her and her mate.
“I’m worried about Navia,” she says at last. “She hasn’t… Been quite herself lately.”
Easily irritable, pickier with her food, quick to lose her temper and quicker to cry, generally more tired than usual and complaining about sores that she can’t quite understand nor will let Clorinde take a look at… Yeah, definitely not normal. Despite the passion she puts into everything she does, Navia is surprisingly mild-tempered. Especially now, in this life where she has everything she could have dreamed of and more…
Right. This is their second chance now. It should have made things easier but, so far down the line, Clorinde is finding herself just… Lost, really.
Wriothesley takes a moment to process her words. His gaze narrows at her. “William is turning eight months old soon, right?” Perhaps Clorinde shouldn’t have been surprised with how good Wriothesley is with dates. She nods firmly. “I think you may want to take some days to work from home, then.”
Clorinde blinks. And again. And she still can’t comprehend where that suggestion is coming from. Especially at this time, when they’re so close to securing a bigger budget for the next year… But before she can say a word to protest, Wriothesley is already whipping his phone from his pocket.
Oh.
This asshole. Of course, he would send a message to Monsieur Neuvillette. It’s the biggest perk of being mates with the company’s CEO, she supposes. He can send whoever he wants home to rest or do whatever it is he thinks they should be doing instead. She isn’t sure if she holds him as dear as she outright loathes him at the moment. The balance is surprisingly delicate, and it’s only grown even more delicate in this second life, even though she’s unsure if Wriothesley remembers or not.
She would likely take a bullet for him. And then perhaps strangle him for being so annoying. Maybe this is what they mean when they say they act like siblings. If Navia’s words are anything to go by, siblings are forever stuck in a love-hate cycle too.
“And when can I come back?” she asks. Wriothesley gives her a look. Clorinde bites back a groan. “Call me when you want me back.”
“Yeah, sure. We’ll see about that.”
Really, he’s so… Insufferable. Clorinde is happy to have him. She wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to call her little brother.
No one.
Despite Clorinde’s complaints, however, she takes little time to get ready to go back home. For once, she’s beyond grateful that most of her work was already done, and what few smaller tasks are there to finish can easily be reassigned to someone else. Of course, she’ll do everything in her power to compensate whoever takes that work on later but, for now, she allows herself to bask in the newfound relief.
She didn’t really realize how tense she’d been all morning until she’s walking down the streets of the Court and on her way back home. Clorinde can’t for the life of her figure out why. Maybe it has something to do with her instincts. Her body may have picked up on signs that her mind can’t fully comprehend, and probably never will.
Not that it could have been any different, of course. Clorinde spent most of her formative years on suppressants as part of the rules of the orphanage she grew up in. She doesn’t resent them for it because she understands why such a rule would be in place. There’s no way to predict what a young alpha or omega would do in their cycles, and with all of them being so hormonal and young and—yeah, it’s clear enough why adults would rather prevent any kind of incidents altogether. And, well, it isn’t like it damaged her body in the long run either, proved by the mating scar on her neck and her son’s existence.
It did severely fuck up with Clorinde’s connection to her instincts, though. She struggles to understand her own body most of the time. More often than not, she needs people to point out to her that she’s in pre-rut for her to realize that, oh, so that’s why the world is a horrible place today. She has also lost count of how many times she scented Navia without even noticing it in the past. She also still struggles to pick up the clues left by others’ pheromones.
Thankfully, she got herself a nice enough support system that all these… Aspects she’s so sorely lacking have become more of minor annoyances than real hindrances, so to say. It’s not perfect, but it’s not quite as bad as it could have been otherwise.
She decides to make a small detour on the way to buy them some pre-made food and snacks. While Clorinde truly doesn’t mind cooking, she wants to just spend as much time with her mate and their son as possible. And some of these are Navia’s favorites. Clorinde hopes they’ll be appreciated.
There’s nothing she wants more in the world than to make her mate happy. They danced around each other for a lifetime all those centuries ago; to have this chance to be with Navia in this life is a dream come true. Clorinde has no intention to ruin things this time.
Her entire body relaxes that much more when she spots their home. It took a long time to convince Navia to move from Poisson—now a fully developed underground town—to the Court. Clorinde doesn’t blame her for it, either. Her family and parents still live there. It’s just natural that Navia would want to stay as close to them as possible… But it’s because they got this home here that Clorinde can be so present in her family’s lives. And that, too, is something she’ll always be thankful for, one more reason for her daily efforts to make Navia feel loved and appreciated and content.
Clorinde opens the front door. It’s unlocked. A frown appears on her face. Navia spends most of her day at home, but she never fails to lock the door, terrified of the dangers that might be lurking in the streets. She can take care of herself well enough; taking care of herself while defending a baby, however, is a different story altogether.
This is… Worrying, for sure. Clorinde quietly closes the door behind her. She leaves the grocery bags in the kitchen before heading upstairs. Navia’s name sits on the tip of her tongue, ready to slip from her lips carrying all the affection that Clorinde couldn’t hide even if she tried.
A strong scent reaches her nose before she can utter it. Navia’s pheromones, far stronger than it’s been in… In a long time. It’s strong enough that Clorinde struggles to think for a moment. Her throat goes dry even as her mouth salivates. That sweet allure has Clorinde’s pussy fluttering with desire, her cocklet hardening and straining against her panties.
She takes a step back, bracing herself against the handrail. She thinks of Wriothesley’s words. Eight months since William was born. It takes seven to nine months for an omega’s body to return to its normal state. Navia’s strange behaviors, her forgetting the door unlocked… Everything makes sense now.
Navia is in heat.
Clorinde takes in a deep breath to regain control of herself. It is the wrong thing to do: Navia’s pheromones are too strong, too sweet, and alluring. Clorinde’s grip on the handrail tightens as she feels the last bits of her sanity beginning to slip away. No, she mustn’t—there are things she has to do first, for her mate’s sake and also for their son and…
Right. William needs proper care. He needs someone who can properly look after him and his needs in all ways Clorinde and Navia won’t be able to for the next days. Clorinde breathes through her mouth instead. It isn’t perfect, but it helps clear her head a little.
She ascends the rest of the stairs in quick steps, marching towards the source of Navia’s scent. The closer Clorinde gets, however, the more she realizes that there’s more than just arousal to Navia’s pheromones. There is distress too, bitter and almost acidic under the floral notes Clorinde loves so much about her scent. She understands why the moment she steps into their bedroom.
Navia is sitting on the edge of their bed, cradling Will with all the care and love a good mother would. The baby himself is quiet, sleeping soundly despite the cloud of pheromones surrounding them. But Navia, ah, she looks everything but content. Tears stream down her face, and her hair sticks against her sweaty skin. Her shirt is half open, and a huge wet stain is visible on her shorts. Her skin is flushed red and her eyes look hazy. She’s suffering, suffering against the onslaught of pleasure she can’t do anything about. And Clorinde, Clorinde curses herself for not noticing before.
Her mate is suffering because of her. Again, Clorinde has failed Navia.
She swallows. No, that’s not true. She hasn’t failed her, not yet. They couldn’t have predicted this. And Clorinde—she’ll do everything in her power to prevent her mate from feeling any more pain.
“Navia,” she calls in a low, low voice, approaching her in carefully slow steps. Her efforts are still not enough, though: her voice startles Navia, and she instinctively holds Will closer to her chest. The sudden change in her grip wakes him up. Sharp cries pierce through the silence. More tears well up in Navia’s eyes. Clorinde’s heart aches for her. “It’s okay. Here, let me help…”
Clorinde gently takes William into her arms. Almost like a puppet with cut strings, Navia’s arms fall heavily on her sides. What little focus her gaze still had quickly starts to fade away. There’s no need for her to hold onto her sanity, after all. Her son is safe, and her mate is here. Navia can just… Let it all go, to become nothing more than a beautiful doll awaiting her mate’s words.
It’s always been like this. Her heats are the only time when Navia completely relinquishes all control. The only time she’ll allow herself to be commanded, and spoiled, and pampered without the pressure of returning any of it. And Clorinde, she feels powerful for it, even though she’s more than aware that she shouldn’t, not when the last thing her mate is feeling right now is happiness or pleasure.
She glances over the bed. It is a royal mess, but not the kind of organized royal mess it becomes when Navia starts nesting. Clorinde looks her in the eye. “Love. Do you think you can move?” Navia stares at her blankly. After what feels like a small eternity, she nods slowly. Clorinde places her hand against Navia’s cheek. It’s almost like she’s burning inside out. Just how long ago did the heat really start? “Good. Good girl. I need you to build a nest for us. Can you do it for me?”
Navia holds Clorinde’s wrist with shaky, weak fingers. “… S-Stay…” A sob erupts from her mouth. “I-I need you.”
William’s weight in her arms and his quiet whimpers in her ears are the only things grounding Clorinde to all the reasons she can’t, not yet.
“I know,” she whispers. “I need you too… I promise I’ll come back soon.” Clorinde’s fingers slide down Navia’s face to brush over her neck instead. Her breath hitches when Clorinde touches the mating scar. “And then I’ll fuck you in your pretty nest as many times as you need. Can you do it for me?”
This time, Navia’s eyes widen. It is not from fear or distress, but pure desire. She nods, trusting Clorinde to fulfill her promise, and Clorinde feels like the most fortunate alpha in the world.
She stands up, leaving the room in quick strides to get things done. She has to brace herself against the nursery room’s door to give herself enough time to clear off her head. Even for Clorinde, someone who struggles to decipher and is mostly unaffected by others’ pheromones, Navia’s heat is a completely different beast. Her hands are still shaking and she feels rather unsteady on her feet.
William lets out a little whine. Clorinde bites her lip. She puts him on the crib before rummaging through drawers and cabinets. She picks up clothes, diapers, baby wipes and more diapers. You can never have too many diapers with an eight-month-old baby. At the same time, Clorinde sends a message to the two people she and Navia both would trust with their lives—and their son, too. They never failed to support them every step of the way, and they certainly won’t let them down now.
And, sure enough, it doesn’t take long for a message to come through. Sheer relief washes over Clorinde at the confirmation that her in-laws are on their way. Knowing them, they’ll likely take the prohibitively expensive underwater bullet train rides to arrive as quickly as humanly possible. Clorinde will have to make up for those costs at some later date. Perhaps a family dinner would be a good way to go about it. Navia certainly will appreciate it.
Clorinde turns her focus back to packing up Will’s things for his stay at his grandparents’ house. She ends up with two full maternity bags and a third bag just with bottles and Will’s favored plastic forks and spoons. He’s a picky boy, even pickier than Navia herself. Clorinde is not taking any chances.
She sighs, turning to her boy then. Her treasure, with Navia’s golden hair and Clorinde’s violet eyes. Clorinde loves him more than life itself. “Now, now, you’ll have to be a very brave boy.” Will looks at her as he absentmindedly chews on one of his toys. Clorinde isn’t sure when he got it. Sneaky little thing. “Be good to your granny until your mamas come get you, okay? And try not to pull gramps’ beard too hard. He pretends to be tough but he’s sensitive like your mama.”
Will shakes his toy in front of him like a tiny warrior showing off his victory spoils. Clorinde huffs, fondness clear on her face as she picks him up from the crib and lays him down on the changing table. Navia did a great job getting him ready earlier, but his clothes are all crinkled and sticky with sweat now. Clorinde makes quick work of it, and soon William is looking every bit the little prince he is again.
No sooner everything is ready, the doorbell rings through the house. Clorinde checks the time on her phone, only to frown. It hasn’t even been a full hour since she called them yet. Not even the fastest transportation mode in all of Teyvat can cover that distance so fast. But, ah, she really isn’t about to question the blessings she has in life. Not at all.
She carries William on her right arm and somehow manages to carry all three bags on her left arm out of the nursery. It takes a lot of effort, especially so when she passes by her room and catches a glimpse of Navia. There’s a nest, yes, but it’s half-built at best. Instead, her mate is lying on the blankets, not a single piece of clothing visible on her body. Navia’s hand disappears between her legs. And Clorinde, she has to force herself to look away.
Soon, she’ll be free to get her hands all over her mate. But, for now, Clorinde still has one last task to see through.
She makes it to the front door. Putting the begs on the floor, Clorinde unlocks it for their guests. Something warm spreads in her chest at the sight of Mrs. Clementine and Mr. Callas. Though they look the same as they did in the last life, they have no memories of it whatsoever, not in the way Clorinde and Navia do. She’s just grateful that this life was much kinder to them, that they could see their daughter grow and become the beautiful woman she’s always been fated to be.
“Oh, my dragons—look at this little prince go!” Mrs. Clementine coos as soon as her eyes land on William. He stares back at her, wide-eyed and clearly hesitant. Even though they see each other once every two weeks at most, he will never get past the initial wariness that comes with every encounter. And that, well, he definitely inherited it from Clorinde. “Sorry it took so long, dear,” she says to Clorinde. “We made a detour to get some things for you.”
Clorinde’s gaze falls on Mr. Callas’s hands. He’s carrying several bags full of groceries, most of them pre-made meals from the looks of it. More than enough to last them for the entire week of Navia’s heat. Oh. This is a lot. Far more than she expected. She should thank them, and let them know just how much this means to her and Navia both… But the words simply won’t come out.
“We were already in the Court when we got your message,” Mr. Callas explains as he moves to leave the bags in the kitchen. When he comes back, it is to pick up Will’s things without even needing to be prompted to. “We came to pick a commission made by Ms. Chiori.”
“An anniversary gift,” Mrs. Clementine adds with pride clear in her voice. “Almost as lovely as our sweet Liam.” A smile tugs at the corners of Clorinde’s lips. Mrs. Clementine and Navia are the only ones to call him that way. Mr. Callas is more like Clorinde on that front. “We figured out you wouldn’t have much time to prepare elaborate meals with how much my girl takes after me.”
Clorinde blinks. It’s true that Navia is rather… Demanding during her heats. Happy to follow any and all commands, yet utterly unwilling to be left alone. That she’s let Clorinde out of her sight for as long as she did is… Well, it certainly is something.
She turns her attention back to Will. Clorinde kisses the top of his head. “Be good to granny,” she whispers those words one more time before gently passing him to Mrs. Clementine’s arms. “We’ll call you when we’re ready.”
“Take your time,” Mr. Callas says, his voice deep and gentle. “Thank you for taking care of her.”
Clorinde nods stiffly. That’s nothing he should be thanking her for; being with Navia is the greatest honor Clorinde can imagine in this life.
Later, she won’t remember bidding her in-laws goodbye. All Clorinde will remember is the feeling of her ponytail coming undone as she rushes back to their room, the sweet, sweet smell of Navia’s pleasure heavy in the air, and the sheer delight that invades her body when she pulls her omega into a kiss.
Navia clings to her like her life depends on it. It’s messy and desperate, and Clorinde holds Navia close, her hands dancing all over her mate’s body. Navia is burning. Her attempts at pleasuring herself were clearly ineffective. Clorinde all but growls at the realization. This isn’t a good sign. A fever this high is simply too dangerous in the long run. She needs to deal with it now.
A high-pitched noise escapes Navia’s lips when Clorinde suddenly puts her back down on the mattress. Clorinde ignores the teary look her mate gives her, focusing on the task at hand instead. She guides Navia to lie on her stomach, pulling her hips up until she’s on her knees. Navia lets out another noise, muffled by what must be a pillow. It’s not entirely displeased despite Clorinde’s admittedly roughness.
Good. She wants her mate to feel nothing but pleasure.
Clorinde wastes no time before diving for her meal. Navia’s pussy is absolutely soaked with slick. She tastes like salt and sweet, a flavor that never fails to remind her of the beautiful romaritime flowers all over Fontaine. It is so like Navia that Clorinde craves for more, needs more, more of this, of Navia, and everything she can give her.
She thoroughly lavishes Navia’s pussy with attention, alternating between wide swipes of tongue over her folds and purposefully sucking around her cute little clit. Navia’s reactions only make everything better. Her moans and whines are music to Clorinde’s ears, beautiful enough to put the performances of Opera Epiclese to shame.
Her hands keep a firm grip on Navia’s thighs the entire time. It doesn’t take long before her legs start shaking, threatening to give out under the sudden onslaught of pleasure. Clorinde feels every muscle growing taunt and contracting under her fingers when Navia cums for the first time. And the second. And the third. And by the fourth time, Navia collapses.
She pulls back just long enough to see how beautifully red and swollen her omega’s pussy has become. Clorinde barely pays attention to her own aching jaw. It’s irrelevant. Navia is the only thing that matters now. Her desire, her pleasure, that is the only thing Clorinde cares about.
Had this been any other day, Clorinde would gladly have given her some time to recover. But Navia is in heat. She doesn’t need rest—she needs to cum, and cum, and cum until there’s nothing left in her body to give, until every last instinct in her body is satisfied enough to allow this wave to come to an end.
Right. The first wave of a heat is usually the worst. As long as Clorinde can successfully help Navia ride it out, they’ll be able to get into a much more comfortable situation. They’ll be able to breathe, and finish the nest properly, and eat something before the next wave starts.
Clorinde can’t wait for it.
Navia whines when Clorinde guides her to lie on her side. And, Seven, she looks absolutely ruined. Even her breasts look redder than normal, with several crisscrossing lines marking the skin where they were pressed flush against the messy sheets. It makes Clorinde want to touch them. And she does, because she can, and because she wants nothing more than to hear her beautiful omega sing with pleasure.
She squeezes Navia’s boob slightly, just enough to make milk trickle down from her nipple. It coats her fingers with sweet white. Clorinde lets go of Navia’s breast to take her fingers to her lips instead. Navia immediately takes them into her mouth. Her moans become little more than soft vibrations around Clorinde’s digits. She can’t tell if they’re from the taste of her own milk or the fact that she’s sucking Clorinde’s fingers. Not that it matters, really. Whatever the reason may be, Clorinde is content enough knowing that she was the one to make Navia feel good enough to moan like this.
“Good girl,” she purrs under her breath, pulling her hand away from Navia’s eager lips. “You deserve a reward, you know?” Navia whines again. Even the sound of it is strangely sweet to Clorinde’s ears. She leans down to kiss Navia again, just a gentle peck on her lips, both a sign of absolute fondness and a silent promise.
Clorinde reaches for her own clothes. She removes them one piece at a time. She can feel Navia’s gaze burning every new inch of skin revealed. It makes Clorinde feel so undeniably and stupidly powerful. Here she has the prettiest woman in the world laid bare just for her, and for reasons she’s yet to fully comprehend, Navia only has eyes for her.
It’s a heady, unique feeling. Clorinde can only hope that Navia feels just as adored and powerful as she makes Clorinde feel.
A bitten-off moan escapes Clorinde’s lips. She glances down, searching for the source of that sudden pleasure just to find Navia’s fingers already hard at work on her cocklet. Clorinde swallows, hard, but that’s hardly enough to help with how ridiculously dry her mouth feels. She can just watch, almost mesmerized, as Navia’s fingers wrap around her.
She bites her lip. Clorinde has always taken pride in how big she is compared to most female alphas. Full two inches when fully erect—just about big enough to perfectly fit within her mate’s grasp. Navia jerks her off slowly, teasing her, taunting her to let go of her restraints, to take what she wants, what they both want now.
And, fuck, Clorinde wants her. She wants her so much that holding back hurts. But she needs Navia to be completely spent. She needs her to reach a level of satisfaction that stops her from being able to think, that keeps the worst of the heat at bay.
Clorinde reaches out. Her fingers get tangled in Navia’s long, long hair when she pulls her up again. Navia happily sighs into the kiss. The content and almost smug sound makes Clorinde groan into the kiss, pulling Navia’s hair to force her head back.
It should have been a warning sign, maybe even a punishment. Unfortunately for Clorinde, Navia is nothing but a very proud masochist. The sudden tug just spurs her on even more. Clorinde’s breath hitches as she feels her orgasm quickly build up.
She bites Navia’s lower lip. “Don’t.” Her voice sounds more shaky than Clorinde wants to admit. “I’ll cum inside you.”
Those words seem to do the trick. Navia’s entire body trembles against her, and she lets go of Clorinde’s cocklet. Instead, she brings her own fingers to her mouth. A loud, delighted hum echoes in Clorinde’s ears as Navia eagerly licks her precum off her fingers. It’s almost hard to believe that Navia isn’t in her right mind, that all her actions are purely instinctive rather than a long, deliberate scheme to make Clorinde lose her mind. But, ah, the usual Navia would get too flustered even imagining doing such things to actually do anything.
Her beautiful, sweet, easily embarrassed omega—Navia is truly too perfect for Clorinde to resist her.
Utter bliss floods Clorinde’s body when her cocklet finally, finally slips into her mate’s soaked hole. She holds Navia close, her nails digging into the soft skin of her hips. Navia’s voice fills the room, broken moans and sobs echoing louder and louder every time Clorinde’s cocklet hits her sweet spot. That, too, is one of the reasons why Clorinde is so proud of her size. She was perfectly tailored to bring her beloved all the pleasure she could possibly wish for.
“C-Clo—Ngh, m-more!”
Clorinde pants against Navia’s skin. The satisfaction of hearing Navia speak again overwhelms her. She did this. She pleasured Navia enough that she’s regaining awareness of her surroundings. She tries to thrust harder but the sheer amount of slick makes her little dick slip out of Navia more times than she’s comfortable with. So Clorinde pulls Navia’s hips down, guiding her to grind down on Clorinde’s cocklet instead. It makes her reach deeper still. The slower pace proves itself to be too much for Clorinde as she can’t hold it in any longer.
Her orgasm hits all at once, stealing her breath away as she fills Navia with her cum. But Navia, her beautifully sweet mate, doesn’t stop moving even for a moment. Clorinde bites on her shoulder to muffle a high-pitched scream. Her entire body is shaking from the oversensitiveness but Navia doesn’t stop. She can’t, not when she’s so close to reaching her orgasm.
Good. Her mate should get everything she wants. Clorinde reaches down between their bodies. She rubs her thumb against Navia’s clit until she’s nothing but an overwhelmed, shaking mess. The slick makes the slide of her thumb against her that much smoother—and the fluids that flow out of her when she finally cums make it even better.
This isn’t the first time Navia squirts during sex, but Clorinde feels as strongly about this achievement as she did back then. Navia collapses against her, a boneless doll covered in sweat and cum and slick. Clorinde presses a kiss to her forehead. It’s blessedly cool in comparison to when Clorinde first arrived home. Relief makes her own body feel impossibly heavy.
She knows she should do something about their bed. Perhaps even just kick the soiled sheets from under them so they can rest well… But she’s too tired to do anything more than lie down and cuddle the hell out of her mate.
Clorinde isn’t sure for how long she slept after that first round. All she knows is that she wakes up to the gentle notes of a lullaby. It’s a song Clorinde knows very well. Navia often sings it when she’s happy, and content, and even Will has learned to love it by now. She blinks slowly. The first thing she notices is that there are pillows. A lot of pillows. They surround her like a cocoon, all of them covered with cases of cold silks and soft cotton. There are clothes strewn about too. From the colors, most of them are Clorinde’s.
“Good morning!” Navia says cheerfully. Behind her, the window shows what is quite clearly a dark sky. “Now that you’re awake, come on and get rolling. I need to finish!”
She blinks, then realizes her mate is holding a thick blanket in her hands. Clorinde wordlessly rolls out of the way. Navia expertly lays the blanket over the spot Clorinde previously occupied, right at the center of the nest. She watches her mate move with rapt attention. She doesn’t know for how long Navia will stay in this active, cognizant state. Clorinde should take the opportunity to head down and get them a meal or something—but she can’t, not really, not when moving means missing out on the blessing that is watching an omega nest right in front of her.
Navia sighs. She turns to Clorinde and sits down, arms open to welcome her. Clorinde doesn’t hesitate even for a second before settling against Navia. She buries her face against her omega’s neck, enjoying her warmth and the sweet, sweet pheromones that make her head spin with desire.
“Sorry for leaving the house in a mess,” Navia whispers. “And for scaring you. I should have noticed earlier.”
“I didn’t notice either,” Clorinde says firmly. And, for her, that is even worse. She failed to pick up the changes in Navia’s scent leading to her heat, and also failed to connect the changes in her behavior to her cycle. “I wouldn’t have realized or gotten home when I did without Wriothesley.”
Clorinde frowns slightly at the thought of her boss-slash-best friend. She owes him some words of gratitude if nothing else. Which is annoying. She hates it when Wriothesley is right about something. He is right about things too often to make it worse.
A chuckle escapes Navia’s lips. “Well, maybe we should order some tea for him.” Clorinde hums. Not a bad idea at all. He’ll love the gift. “And Liam?”
“With your parents.” Clorinde should check her phone for any messages later. Knowing her in-laws, they won’t get anything unless a true emergency happens though. It both relieving and stressful for Clorinde. It’s the first time they’ll stay away from their son for so long, after all. “How do you feel? Any pain?”
“Hmmm… My neck is throbbing a little.” Clorinde pulls back long enough to look at it. As expected, Navia’s scent gland is swollen and red. A natural and much loathed consequence of the heat. “I also don’t really, um, feel my parts… If you get what I mean.”
Oh. Navia is all red again. Clorinde’s heart beats a little bit faster at the sight. They’ve been together for so long and she’s still so shy about these things… It makes Clorinde want to tease her about it.
She reigns the need in with great effort. Instead, Clorinde presses a gentle kiss to Navia’s neck. “The numbness will go away… Eventually.”
“Yeah?” Navia squirms against her. Clorinde can already feel the sweet scent of her slick growing stronger again. She woke up just in time, then. “W-Why not now?”
Clorinde smiles. She bites the lobe of Navia’s ear, and lets her lips brush against its shell when she whispers, “Because you’re not done with me yet.”
She expects Navia to hide her face or cover Clorinde’s mouth or do something equally adorable to cover up her embarrassment. She doesn’t expect Navia to pull her into a kiss, though, or to be pushed onto the mattress. Clorinde’s entire body trembles when her mate climbs onto her, one leg on each side of her waist.
Navia purrs. Her hair cascades around Clorinde when she leans down. “Then don’t let me down, hm?”
And Clorinde doesn’t. She fulfills every request, every demand and every plea Navia makes for the next days. She guides her through mind-blowing orgasms one after another, and holds her until she falls asleep, and kisses her until she remembers just how loved she is. Clorinde carries her to the kitchen for meals, and washes her hair for her when the stickiness of fluids becomes too much for even Navia’s heat brain to tolerate.
It’s intense, but also delightful. Clorinde is happy, happier than she’s been in a long time. She doesn’t need to worry about other responsibilities, nor ensure they have enough to provide for their tiny treasure. No, for this moment, Clorinde can give all her love and attention to the one person she promised her eternity. She feels useful, powerful, uniquely blessed, and desired all at once. There’s no one else Navia wants like this, after all.
A shame it is that everything abruptly ends on the fourth day.
Clorinde knows the heat is over because there’s no sign of fever when she touches Navia’s forehead. Her gaze is clear and alert, and her neck looks almost normal now. It’s almost jarring, if Clorinde were to be honest. Navia’s heats don’t usually end all at once. No, the effects linger for days after they’re done, weighing her down with body aches and an inexplicably foul mood that demands just as much attention and coaxing as the waves of her heat proper need. This—this is new, different, and genuinely scary.
“What’s there to be scared of?” Navia huffs in the middle of styling her hair for the day. They’re leaving for Poisson to get their baby boy back. Navia doesn’t want to wait any longer to have Will in her arms again, apparently. “It’s a blessing. Can you put the bow on for me, love?”
She does, because she’s unable to say no to Navia. Clorinde still can’t completely get rid of the doubt, though. A heat that ends too early… Maybe Navia is right and everything is alright. Or maybe it’s just a consequence of her pregnancy. Now that she has a baby of her own, maybe her body doesn’t feel the need for extended heats anymore.
Or maybe, just maybe, Clorinde really is overthinking this.
She isn’t overthinking, but she won’t know that for another two weeks from now. The news comes in the form of a rather cheeky message from her mate, accompanied by a photo of William in a brand new onesie that Clorinde had never seen before. All black and gold, with a rose embroidered on the chest with three words under it: Cutest big brother.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh.
Clorinde sets down her phone and stares at her dearly beloathed friend. Wriothesley meets her gaze with an arched eyebrow as he sips on his new tea. A challenge, as well as an encouragement. Clorinde sees no reason to beat around the bush.
“I need a pay raise.”
Wriothesley’s cackles aren’t by far the worst thing in the world to endure this time. In fact, Clorinde welcomes this. Her friend’s happiness with her joy is just another proof of how precious this thing they have going on is. Maybe she’ll even find it in herself to ask him to be the little one’s godfather too. He has been quite good to Will, after all. It’s a sound choice.
But that’s a thought for much, much later. For now, Clorinde allows herself to bask in the bliss that seems to mark her every day. Her family is growing again. And, she knows… This is just the beginning.