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After a wild night with Lucifer, Alastor wants more. The problem is, he has absolutely no idea how to approach Lucifer, and he’s a bumbling idiot when it comes to flirting.
Alastor should have registered when he first presented, his name and details added to the list advertising available Omegas throughout the kingdom. At twenty-four, he should’ve been servicing Alphas for six or seven years already.
He wasn’t small or soft or pretty. He was tall, thin, and calloused. After the initial contract for his virginity, he’d become a means to an end for poorer Alphas and spend his next twenty or so years warming their beds until his whelp rearing days passed.
Registering now was the only one way he could make enough money to save his mother.
He just hoped she forgave him for it.
AKA
Omegas, the only secondary gender able to give birth, are a rare and precious resource. As a result, the Crown created the Omega Registry for Alphas to bid on their heats in the hopes of producing an heir. Alastor has spent his whole life pretending to be a beta, but outs himself when his mother falls gravely ill in order to save her life.
He never expected his virgin contract to go to King Lucifer Morningstar, let alone for the king to want to keep him.
Lucifer Morningstar - archangel, maverick, outcast.
Alastor Sinclair - musician, menace, and a man with nothing left to live for.
The two were never supposed to meet, but one night Alastor ends up in over his head, and Lucifer takes it upon himself to intervene and save Alastor's life. Then saves him again. And again. And again.
How many times must Alastor flirt with death to realize that life is truly worth living?