The Omega He Banished
"Alright, Omega, you first. Drink."
The omega’s eyes widened, darting between the cups and the faces of the rogues. He looked terrified. He reached for a cup with a shaking hand, his fingers brushing against the cold earthenware. He hesitated, then, with a gulp, lifted it to his lips and drank deeply. His face contorted for a fleeting moment, then relaxed.
"Well?" the brute demanded.
The omega coughed, a dry, raspy sound. "It's… it tastes awful. But… I don't feel anything yet. No pain, though."
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