{ "item_title" : "The Stablehand's Scentless Omega", "item_author" : [" Wolha "], "item_description" : "Elias Ashcroft is twenty-four years old and has never once had a scent. The one man who wanted him anyway mucked out his father's stables.A duke's eldest son with no scent has no price, and a thing with no price is not taken away from anyone. That is how the house of Ashcroft has explained him to itself for six years. He stammers. He stands in corridors. He is not on the invitations.Three years ago the stablehand put him against the stone wall behind the stables, told him to wait, and was conscripted north before dawn without a goodbye.Now Jack is back, and the Emperor has offered him any omega in the empire as the price of a war he ended.He turns it down and asks for something else.The reward I want is a place where I may ask that person myself.So Elias goes north to Stonefold - a hundred people inside the keep, three thousand in the town below the walls, ten thousand counting the villages, and not one of them has counted anything in thirty years. There are one thousand nine hundred sheep, they say. Elias counts one thousand eight hundred and sixty-four, writes down the thirty-six that are missing, and asks where they went.Nobody in that castle has ever asked.And every night, the man who kisses him like he means to eat him alive will not put a hand on the back of his neck. Not once.A nape that takes nothing when it is bitten, so there is no reason to touch it.Elias reads it as a refusal. He is wrong, and it will take a winter to find out how wrong.A merchant company comes up the pass with a ledger written crooked, because that is the trick you use in front of a man who cannot read. A father sends ten wagons of grain and asks for the family name back in exchange. A fever no recessive omega is supposed to live to have burns for three days in the middle of a northern January.And when it breaks, and Elias finally has a scent of his own, Jack says nothing at all.I chose before there was a scent.This is a closed-door romance. There is no on-page intimacy - not one scene. What there is: a spade counted at a hundred and eighty strokes a night, a spoon filled and lifted to a mouth that cannot hold it, a name written in three crooked strokes on a board that does not get burned, and a honeysuckle root taken off a stable wall in the capital and pushed into frozen northern ground with four hands.A complete standalone novel - you do not need books one, two, three, or four. Content notes: a scentless omega treated as defective by his own family and by noble society; a father's neglect and emotional abuse; a stammer; a conscripted penal unit, a brand burned into a fourteen-year-old's shoulder, and battlefield memories told on the page; a presenting fever and a long illness, nursed on the page; wounds taken in the field and on the mountain, stitched and healing; a winter of scarcity and the threat of going hungry; bonding and pregnancy discussed but never shown. No on-page intimacy.", "item_img_path" : "https://covers3.booksamillion.com/covers/bam/9/79/817/528/9798175285414_b.jpg", "price_data" : { "retail_price" : "10.99", "online_price" : "10.99", "our_price" : "10.99", "club_price" : "10.99", "savings_pct" : "0", "savings_amt" : "0.00", "club_savings_pct" : "0", "club_savings_amt" : "0.00", "discount_pct" : "10", "store_price" : "" } }

Overview

Customers Also Bought

Details