Omega realized he had said the wrong thing. His whole body tensed from the change in his face alone. He wanted to explain that he had not meant it as impudence, that he had simply… simply wanted to express his gratitude. But to his surprise, instead of fear, he felt persistence.
"I wanted to say…" his voice trembled, but he did not stop, "that… I had never seen such flowers before. And it was… nice to see them with you."
He did not know where this strength came from. Maybe from the sweetness of the dessert, maybe from the lightness in his chest that he felt for the first time in many days. But the words had already been spoken, and time could not be turned back. Omega's cheeks flushed and his eyes sparkled.
Serak did not answer. He slowly straightened up. His glass fell on the table with a dull sound. He walked around the table. Omega barely had time to raise his eyes - and the next second the entire space around him changed.
He didn't have time to realize what had happened. It all happened in a second, so fast and precise. Serak's hand closed on the collar of his shirt. The man lifted Omega into the air with ease, depriving him of any support or balance. His desperately dangling arms tried to grab onto the man. But they didn't have time.
His chest hit the edge of the table. A sharp pain ran along his ribs, spreading like a wave. His hands instinctively leaned on the surface, his legs buckled, and his breathing stopped.
"Argh"
The world around him didn't collapse, it just changed, became sharp, like broken glass. And in this change there was that very feeling: everything that seemed warm, false, comfortable - disappeared. The illusion was over.
Serak's scent, heavy, rich with wine, sweet as honey, but with rot at its core, enveloped him. This smell was not new. It brought back memories, the ones he hid deepest. The smell of drunken alphas in auction basements, heavy bodies, greedy fingers, dark looks that made you want to disappear. The same stench of fear and power. But this was worse. Because this smell wasn't the facelessness of a buyer. It was the one who held him now. His smell, his heat, his claim - not on his body, but on everything inside, to the last thought, to the last piece of will. And all this was from the side of his legal husband. Yes, Omega didn't fully understand what "husband" and "marriage" were, but even on his tongue these words gave off intimacy and tenderness.
"You're taking on too much," Serak's voice sounded calm. But it was this tone that got under his skin, making his heart skip a beat. The words cut to the quick, as if everything he thought about himself, everything he wanted to feel, could be crossed out with one phrase, spoken between sips of expensive wine. The feeling of shame became stronger than fear.
The Omega did not answer. He did not even try to break free. Everything in his body, all the submissiveness trained over the years, turned on like an instinct. He felt the skin on the back of his neck tighten from his breath, goosebumps running down his spine. From the feeling that he had done something unforgivable, even if he himself did not know what. And this shame, like poison, slowly rose to his throat.
"It seems I was too soft with you," Serak continued, and there was a feigned bitterness in his voice, as if he was saying this not to him, but to himself. Like a man who is disappointed not in someone else's actions, but in his own choice.
The fingers released him as abruptly as they had grabbed him. His body couldn't take it anymore and sank to the edge of the table. He didn't fall, but he bent over, unable to straighten up. There were no thoughts in his head. Only a ringing emptiness. His fingers trembled, clutching the edge. Bile suddenly rose in his throat and everything he had eaten came out on the floor in a second. He couldn't look at Serak after what Omega had just done. He felt him standing behind him, slightly to the side. He heard his ragged breathing. He felt his gaze on his skin. And every nerve in his body screamed not to move, or better yet, not to breathe at all.
But the next moment Serak came up again. And before Omega could pull back, his fingers closed on the back of his head again - not roughly, but forcefully. He pulled him up, forcing him to straighten up, and led him step by step to the balcony. Omega didn't resist. He knew that there was no other way now. He knew that it would hurt. But he couldn't change anything. Because everything about this man, his voice, his hands, his scent, his silence, took away his choice.
When their bodies reached the very fence, Serak pushed him forward. Not hard. But it was enough to arch his spine, to lift his chest above the stone, and to tighten his fingers on the railing, keeping his balance. He didn't scream. But something inside him snapped. As if the last spring that kept him upright, able to at least breathe, had broken.
"What do you know about freedom?" Alpha said, standing to the side. His voice no longer sounded like a voice. It whispered in his ear, leaving no room. The man held the hanging boy by the scruff of his neck.
"Do you think a walk makes you equal? That the sweetness on your tongue gives you the right to talk to me so vulgarly?"
The Omega was silent. He tried to breathe. To breathe through the heat of humiliation and fear. But he couldn't. The air in his chest was stuck. His hands on the railing were turning pale. And only the tears, slowly creeping down his cheeks, reminded him that he was alive. That he hadn't fallen into the void, although he felt its edge already at his feet.
"Tell me," Serak added, almost smiling, squeezing his hand. "Did you feel special? Because I was looking in your direction?"
He couldn't take it anymore. His voice broke. Hoarse, breaking, almost unrecognizable.
"I just wanted..." he gulped, and the tears flowed harder. "I wasn't thinking... I..."
"Of course," Alpha grinned, "when was the last time you thought in this life? Everything was done for you. Even your legs, like tree branches, you didn't spread on your own." The terrible words continued to pour from the man's mouth.