Chapter 331: He’s All That… The Song Of Salt And Desire

[FROLO]

Katya woke up to a series of noises coming from the manor’s living room. He could swear he hadn’t told anyone he was here except...

Anya Kavinsky.

Great.

The old woman was probably here to remind him of the repercussions he had learned really well last night.

Sergei’s side of the bed was empty, and Katya was still tucked in, almost like the alpha was determined to make sure he was alright even in his sleep.

The alpha’s clothes that had littered the floor were gone, save for his tie that was still on the bedside table.

The room itself reeked of citrus and rainforest. It would almost be hard to convince anyone that they hadn’t slept together last night.

And that...

That had Katya thinking of what had happened.

Every memory was carved into his brain, and frankly he needed to have a proper word with Sergei Moskowsky. Maybe Katya would wake him up with eggs to his face just so Sergei could feel what Katya was feeling.

He’s been so close.

They’d both been close.

Then the devil decided to exercise patience.

Fuck.

"Get dressed, Romanov, you need to be out of here as soon as possible," Anya’s voice came from the other side of the door, making Katya’s plans to egg Sergei pause for a moment.

He would deal with that alpha later.

But again, there was no denying that last night wasn’t a mistake.

That last night had meant something for him. For Sergei too. Katya didn’t even need to be told anymore that Sergei Moskowsky loved him.

That barbarian with ironclad self-control yearned for him. And Katya smiled into the pillow, the memories making him feel a little more than he’d ever admit in public.

"I’ll give you my knot..." Katya remembered, choosing to ignore whatever the fuck Sergei had said after that because his alpha wanted him.

His alpha loved him.

His alpha needed him.

Surely it wasn’t that bad an idea to go to Sergei so they could pick up from where they left off, right?

Besides, the lessons Sergei had taught Katya last night were etched into Katya’s brain along with every growl and groan the alpha had let out, every touch, every breath against his skin.

He remembered Sergei kissing his scars like Katya was sacred. How Sergei had worshipped his body, determined to remind Katya that he was loved. Worthy.

And Katya...

He believed Sergei.

Aleksandr could go fuck himself on spikes. Maybe die too along the way.

Katya wasn’t a whore.

He belonged.

He was worthy.

He was loved.

And Sergei loved him.

What more could he want, right?... Well, other than the alpha’s knot locking them both together, yeah?

The thought of being knotted by Sergei got Katya out of bed faster than he had been ready for. He was excited to see Sergei again.

Maybe Sergei was still giving him space after last night, probably thinking that Katya regretted what happened between them.

But Katya had no regrets.

Just hunger for Sergei’s knot, and nothing but absolute spite for Sergei’s self-control.

The crazed alpha had managed himself even with his rut demanding something more.

Well, it was morning, wasn’t it? And Katya was sober. Which meant that they could both continue last night’s conversation.

But first, Katya needed to look good for his alpha.

So, he stripped before rummaging through his backpack for Sergei’s used clothes.

A white collared shirt, THAT Katya would button carelessly. Maybe Sergei would help him fix it. And kiss him good morning in the process.

The omega didn’t bother wearing anything under the shirt. After all, it was nothing Sergei hadn’t seen yet.

’More like hasn’t touched with his lips and tongue yet,’ his subconscious teased, and Katya smiled at no one in particular in the empty room.

His alpha.

His handsome unhinged alpha.

Katya could still feel Sergei’s hands on him, and he loved it. The memory. The feeling. Everything Sergei had done to him last night.

Sure, his legs were a bit wobbly, but he’d be fine.

After all, all he needed was to walk a few steps and perhaps sit on his alpha’s lap, right?

Oh, but Katya didn’t recognize this version of himself. It was as if everything he was doing was suddenly connected to the devil of Frolo. Only that the man wasn’t the devil. Not with him.

Just Vladimir.

Katya’s Vladimir.

"Oh, my goodness, I sound like I’m in love," Katya groaned, but even he knew it was a pointless fight right now.

He did sound in love.

He was in love.

And he wasn’t ever going to forget Sergei’s breaths on him.

Was he insane? Had Katya really crossed the threshold for insanity because right now he sounded worse than a horny omega.

He sounded like a claimed omega.

One who belonged to only one person.

He wasn’t opposed to it, but the way his body wasn’t even fighting his mind, the way his heart was in sync with his brain, was scary.

Oh, he was doomed.

But the good kind, right?

Grabbing Sergei’s socks from the floor, Katya put them on. He didn’t put his hair in a bun anymore.

Sergei would undo it anyway, so there was no point.

And then he walked into the bathroom to brush and wash his face.

But when he got there... When he looked into the mirror, Katya realized that perhaps staying inside his bedroom wasn’t a bad idea.

He knew he’d wake up with bruises all over his face given the way Sergei had left every inch of his skin last night. But Katya looked like he was infected with a plague.

Or attacked by a zombie?

He didn’t know for certain which one was better. Hell, he even let his hair down, but he looked as devoured as before.

There was no hiding shit from Anya.

Not when Katya smelled like Sergei. And it wasn’t just because he was wearing Sergei’s clothes.

The alpha had bathed Katya in his scent, and Katya reeked.

Of Sergei Moskowsky.

"Alpha said not to hide," Katya chuckled softly, staring at his ruined form in the mirror. Then he cleaned up before leaving. He knew he looked scandalous.

Even as he opened his bedroom door and walked out into the living room.

He could hear growls from the living room, and he knew it was Sergei.

His territorial alpha was probably getting riled up with Anya’s tears. Well, Katya would share the burden like a good omega, right?

After all...

He was Sergei Moskowsky’s omega.

His Vladimir’s Solnyshka.

But then he got to the living room. And instead of Sergei Moskowsky being there, there was a huge screen in the room, alongside people from the Moskowsky camp.

Katya didn’t even greet them at first.

His focus was on the screen.

It was a live feed from this manor. From what looked like a guestroom, though it was hard to tell given the way the room had been emptied and only had one bed in it.

But that wasn’t what caught his attention.

His alpha did.

Katya let out a subconscious growl at the sight.

On that screen was his Vladimir.

His Sergei was in chains like a feral beast.

His neck was collared to a wall; his hands had very thick, heavy chains. His legs had four chains on his ankles. The way he was tied up, it was like Sergei Moskowsky needed to be caged.

"You hurt my alpha," Katya growled lowly.

And Anya...

"Boy, I still have a few spare horse tranquilizers. Do NOT make me use them on you too," Anya warned in exhaustion.

What the fuck had Katya Romanov walked into?