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Summary
When Grace feels the first unmistakable gush of slick soaking down the inner seam of the orange jumpsuit tied around his waist, he shuts his eyes against the trembling reflection staring back at him in the Hail Mary’s compact lavatory and grips the steel rim of the tiny sink until his long fingers blanch white. He tries desperately to ignore the way his swollen scent glands glisten with dribbling oil along either side of his bare, unclaimed neck – and how the featherlight, viscous slide does nothing to soothe the roiling heat coiling low in his belly. Instead, it stokes the relentless ache beneath his skin until Grace convulses against the cold steel, teeth gritted through the onslaught heralding the end of their journey to Adrian.
Rocky and Simon stand just outside the lavatory door, the branding weight of twin, alien gazes somehow both a balm and a warning, even through the thick layers of Nomex. They have no idea what’s just happened. What’s just begun. No idea their Adrian mission is about to become so much worse.
Why, Grace thinks, pressing his heated forehead against the mirror until sweat smears across the glass. Why did I have to be born an Omega?