by Noah Harris
Dylan spent most of the evening and most of the next day dodging questions about Blake. As far as he was concerned, Blake had already answered everything his family needed to know. Still, they tried to push for details of their meeting and how they got to know each other. Reminding them that those details were part of a secret military mission and he couldn’t divulge details didn’t seem to dissuade them. If anything, it made them start guessing instead of asking. Some of their guesses were straight out of Hollywood, and he wondered just what they thought he did.
When telling their story, Blake had conveniently left out the part where they had to pretend to be fake mates, and that’s how Dylan had started to develop feelings for him. Dylan was okay with that. He didn’t need his family, or anyone really, knowing that little detail. While imagining that scenario through the eyes of others, it seemed like a sketchy Stockholm syndrome sorta deal. But it wasn’t. He had been attracted to Blake from the beginning, but Blake’s constant touches and affection just made it easier for Dylan to give in and let himself accept the feelings he was having. On some level, he was aware that Blake had manipulated the circumstances to finally get the chance to be with him, but he didn’t blame him. He was kind of flattered by it.
He still had his doubts, of course. Those didn’t just go away. But seeing Blake and being with him again, kissing and feeling him again, had pushed the doubts to the back of his mind. He had reconfirmed that yes, he was still attracted to Blake. Even after weeks apart, and roughly a month removed from their mission at the Shadow Pack, Dylan still yearned for Blake just as strongly as he had then. That was a big relief. Plus it helped tremendously that Blake had suggested that they slow it down and stick with dating before jumping to calling each other mates. That seemed a lot less serious and a lot less stressful to Dylan. He hated that Blake could read him so easily, but he appreciated that he cared enough to do so.
He still needed to think on his doubts and sort out his feelings, but that could wait until later. His family already knew about them and so did Ben. Dylan didn’t want to deal with the hassle of calling off his relationship in the wake of all that. It was an added bonus that Ben seemed genuinely annoyed by his relationship with Blake. It gave Dylan a twisted sense of satisfaction. A little payback for him marrying his cousin.
It wasn’t entirely for spite and to avoid family drama, though. For the moment, he was actually happy to see Blake. Blake was like his rock when it came to being in his hometown. Blake knew the real him. He didn’t have to hide who he was now, and he could easily tell Blake anything. Blake was like him and didn’t quite belong anymore. And, as much as he hated to admit it, he had missed the cocky son of a bitch. His only regret was that they hadn’t managed to do anything yet. His body was still itching for Blake. He was hornier than he could remember being in a long time, and he blamed it on the time they had spent apart.
Unfortunately, the edge of his horniness was curbed by the fact that he had woken up feeling nauseous. He had laid in bed for an hour, hoping it was only nerves, but it didn’t go away. He attempted to eat breakfast, thinking that maybe his stomach pains were just hunger. He promptly threw it back up. After that, he curled up on the couch in a blanket and watched TV, hoping the nausea would fade. It did, eventually, but it was replaced by a general feeling of cramps in his gut. He was fairly certain he had food poisoning.
He stayed on the couch for most of the day, feeling sorry for himself. His parents were at work, and so was his brother. The only one home was Cynthia. She lived in an apartment across town with Jared, but she was planning on staying at their parents’ house until the wedding was over to make travel easier on her and her pregnancy. She kept him company, sitting on the couch with him and watching TV while she knitted. She picked up fairly quickly that he wasn’t feeling well, and she left the conversation to a minimum. Dylan was grateful.
He texted Blake a few times. Blake told him that Ben had been irritated and mostly inconsolable for most of yesterday’s evening. Blake had tried to reassure him that it had nothing to do with him, but that didn’t seem to assure him at all. If anything, he said it tended to make him more irritable. Then Blake said Ben complained about it to Alex until Alex pointed out that he was marrying Dylan’s cousin, so he shouldn’t have a problem with Dylan dating his brother. Then Alex made a point of saying that he was happy for them, and that shut up Ben for the night. Apparently he was back to his normal self this morning with no indication that anything had happened the night before. Blake wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing.
Blake asked Dylan if he wanted to meet up, and as much as Dylan wanted to, and god he wanted to, if anything to get his body from popping a boner every ten minutes, he knew he shouldn’t. With how off he was feeling, he knew he’d be in no condition to have sex, let alone enjoy it. When Blake heard that he was feeling sick, he offered to come over and take care of him. That, too, was a tempting offer, but no, he didn’t want his family to have more time to interview and interrogate them.
By the time his parents got home and they were having dinner, Dylan felt much better. His nausea had passed, but he was still cramping occasionally, with just an overall feeling of pressure in his abdomen. Shortly after dinner, he escaped to his room. His mom had been relentless in her pursuit to get to know more about Blake. And when it became clear that Dylan wasn’t going to say anything, she started pursuing the idea of him coming over, no doubt because he was more talkative about the subject than Dylan was. Once in his room, he closed the door and collapsed on his back on the bed.
Five minutes later, he heard a soft knock and Cynthia poked her head in. “Can I come in?”
“I guess.”
She closed the door behind her and came to sit on the edge of his bed, one hand resting on her belly and the other resting behind her. She looked him over. “How’re you feeling?”
“I don’t feel like I’m going to puke anymore, so I suppose that’s better.”
She nodded, looking down at the bedsheets as she picked at a stray thread. “I asked mom about it, but she said she hasn’t heard of anyone else getting food poisoning.”
“I was probably just something my body isn’t used to.”
“But you’ve eaten a lot of different things, traveling the world and living on military food … plus we don’t get food poisoning that easily.”
“Then maybe it’s just a bug.”
“Maybe …” She was quiet for a moment, still picking at the threat. “Does your back still hurt?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes. I think I pulled a muscle during one of my last training fights before I left. It happens.”
“Mmmm,” She hummed. “So … tell me about your relationship with Blake.”
Dylan groaned, throwing an arm over his face. “Not you, too!”
She chuckled at his reaction and patted his leg. “Calm down. I’m not going to interrogate you like mom. I was just wondering if you two had been … intimate, yet.”
Dylan lifted his arm and glanced up at her, his eyes narrowing. “Why?”
“I was just curious.”
“I don’t think it’s any of your business.” He said, propping himself up on his elbows so he could lift his head and get a better view of her.
She was looking at him now, a frown curving her delicate lips. She didn’t look happy. “Dylan, there’s no need to be rude.”
“And randomly asking your brother about his sex life isn’t rude?”
“I promise I have a reason. Just answer my question.” She was using that commanding tone of hers. The kind that allowed no room for arguments. It was a very mom-like voice, and it was a little off-putting.
Dylan frowned. “Fine. Yes, we have been. Happy?”
“How long ago?”
“Why does that matter?”
“How long ago?”
He sighed, looking away. “It’s … been a while. He was on a mission, and I was at the base. We haven’t had the chance to do anything in several weeks. A little ove
r a month …” He wasn’t sure why he was so ashamed of this fact, or embarrassed by it. Given the circumstances of their jobs, they clearly couldn’t go at it constantly like a couple of teenagers. He summed it up to just being the fact that he was talking about it with his sister.
“Hmmm …” She frowned, looking away from him. Her gaze swept across the guest bedroom. It no longer held any traces of his old room. His parents had done well decorating, but it had that stagnant feel of a guest room: pleasant to look at but distinctly uninhabited.
Dylan sighed, sitting all the way up, he adjusted his position so he was sitting more comfortably. His cramps had subsided for the most part, but he still felt bloated. He scratched his head, using his other hand to prop himself up. “What’s up, Cynthia?”
“Nothing … I’m not sure … it could be nothing.”
He rolled his eyes. “Something is obviously bothering you. Spit it out.”
She put her hands on her belly, intertwining her fingers and tapping them idly. “It’s just … you’ve seemed kinda off lately.”
“I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.” He admitted, but he felt that was obvious. His ex-boyfriend was getting married to his cousin, and he was dating but doubting but really wanting to fuck his ex’s little brother. It didn’t get much more complicated than that. He should be excused if he seemed a little off.
She shook her head. “No, not just mentally, though I understand you have a lot going on right now.” She gave him a small smile but then looked away. Her lips were screwed up into a half frown, and her nose was scrunched up in thought. She was making a face that he recognized. It was the concentration face that she always made when she was trying to figure out how to word something that might be a delicate topic. So he waited. When she spoke again, her voice was careful and deliberate. “Have you ever considered … that you might be pregnant?”
It took a moment for that to sink in. He stared at her, eyes going wide with alarm and his eyebrows going up. His jaw went slack, and his lips parted. She was avoiding eye contact, but when he didn’t say anything, she turned her head and to look up at him. Her eyes searched his face, taking in the shock, horror, and panic he felt rising to the surface.
‘No …” He breathed, then shook his head, getting ahold of himself. He cleared his throat. “No! Cynthia, don’t be ridiculous. There’s no way in hell. I can’t be.”
But he could be. And they both knew that. He was an omega, after all. He was an omega who had recently had sex with an alpha. They hadn’t used any form of protection. He hadn’t thought about it. The military usually provided a pregnancy prevention birth control via a monthly injection to all serving omegas. He searched his memory, scrambling back to his time at the Shadow Pack. He had gotten the shot before he had been captured hadn’t he? He had been sure of it, but thinking back now, the closer he came to a horrifying conclusion: he had been due to get his next birth control shot, but he hadn’t had it yet when the Shadow Pack captured him.
There was still hope, however. Omegas, like women, weren’t guaranteed to get pregnant from just one or even a handful of times having unprotected sex. Surely there had been enough remnants from his years of taking a monthly birth control to prevent him from getting pregnant in the one month without it. Surely … it had to. But … everyone knew that the stronger the connection, the more likely it was for an alpha and omega pair to conceive. The stronger the bond, the stronger the hormones their bodies produced. And even in that short amount of time, he and Blake had had a very strong connection.
“No, that’s not possible.” He said, sounding more confident than he felt. He shook his head again. “What in the ever living hell gave you that idea?”
She had relaxed a little, smiling sheepishly. She seemed reassured by his apparent confidence. “It’s just … you seem to be experiencing a lot of the symptoms that I felt during early pregnancy, and I once read that omegas feel the symptoms sooner and more intensely than a woman, because of the way their bodies have to adjust for pregnancy.”
Dylan was feeling a sinking feeling in his gut. It felt like lead and settled uncomfortably in his already bloated abdomen. “I can’t be …” He said, with a little less conviction. He resisted the urge to put a hand on his stomach like his sister. He refused. He stared at her rounded belly. “No. No fucking way.”
Cynthia’s face fell as she caught on to his sudden surge of panic. “The government issues you birth control while you’re serving, right? They don’t want their soldiers getting pregnant.”
Dylan nodded.
“See? You have nothing to worry about.” She patted his knee.
He chewed on his bottom lip. “But …” She froze, raising one eyebrow. “Remember how Blake said the mission we met on had some … complications and my cover was nearly blown?”
“Yes …” She said slowly.
“I was forced into a month long unexpected undercover recon mission with Blake. We were on our own. Without the resources the medical team usually provides.”
“So you’re saying you weren’t on birth control during the time you spent with Blake?”
Dylan groaned, burying his face in his hands. He shook his head. “This can’t be happening …” First his doubts about Blake, then Ben, now this? He was supposed to take a relaxing leave from his job to clear his head, not add more complications to the mix.
“It’s not so bad,” Cynthia said, trying to sound reassuring.
Dylan lifted his head a fraction, glaring at her between his fingers. “Easy for you to say. You wanted a baby with Jared. I don’t have time in my life for a baby right now. I like what I do. I want to continue doing it. I can’t have a baby right now. I don’t know if I ever want to have a baby.” Panic was rising in his throat, feeling like fire. He could taste bile. He realized he was talking faster, and his voice was raising in pitch, but he could do nothing to stop it.
Cynthia squeezed his knee. “Dylan, you need to calm down. We don’t even know for sure yet. We’ll figure it out. Just breathe.” She spoke calmly. Her voice was low and slow, reassuring and kind, but it did nothing to soothe him.
He grabbed her arm. “You cannot tell mom and dad.” He said, panicked but serious. “Or Blake. Do not tell them. Not yet.”
“Dylan, you’re being ridiculous.”
“Promise me.” He snapped. He held her eyes, trying to convey everything he felt and the seriousness of his request. For his own sanity, he couldn’t have people knowing about this. Not until he knew for sure and he had adjusted to it. If he adjusted to it, Dylan didn’t know what he was going to do about it, but he was going to figure it out on his own before he told anyone. He squeezed her arm. “Please, Cynthia.”
She eventually sighed. “Fine, I won’t tell anyone.”
“Good,” He let go of her arm. “It’s probably nothing. There’s plenty of other explanations for how I’m feeling. We’re probably over reacting.”
“That’s true,” She said, giving him a look with a raised brow, letting him know that she thought he was the only one overreacting.
“I’m going to take a shower.” He said, standing and heading for the bathroom. He needed to be alone. He needed to sort things out. But like everything else that was chaos in his mind, he couldn’t sort through it. It was all too much, too soon. He didn’t know how to handle any of this. He should have stayed far away from emotions. He should have learned his lessons. Relationships just messed everything up. Life was much easier on a mission with his team when someone else was giving the orders, and he followed them precisely. He knew how to kill a man a variety of ways and how to hide the body. He knew how to survive a combat situation that wasn’t in his favor. But he didn’t know how to handle this.
He ended up standing in the shower, head resting against the wall until the water ran cold. He wouldn’t admit that he had been crying.
Dylan started off the next day by deciding to keep to a training schedule. He had been training for years now and exercising near daily for all of
them. Several days without any type of exercise was making him feel sluggish and anxious. So he woke early and went for a run. Waking up was easy. He had barely slept the night before. His mind had been too active. So he hadn’t really been asleep. It wasn’t so much a matter of waking up as it was a matter of when he got tired of trying to sleep. He was up and out of the house before his parents left for work.
The early morning was his favorite time to run. The air was still chilled from the night before, and even though the sun was up, it hadn’t yet warmed anything. Moisture and dew seemed to cling to the air, but it was refreshing. Everything was quiet as the neighborhood slept. In an hour, it would be busy as kids got up for school and adults woke up for work. But for now, it was eerily calm and peaceful and still as the daylight slowly seeped color back into the world. He had never seen the neighborhood at this time before. He ran track in high school, but he had never run in the early morning. He didn’t see the point of waking up to do it before school when he was just going to run after school. But now he had grown to appreciate this time. He was fascinated how it made all the nostalgic streets from his childhood look haunted and eerie.
Running had always been his balm for a turmoil-riddled mind. Running helped clear his mind and let him drop his worries for a short time. He forgot about everything. He forgot about Blake. He forgot about Ben. He forgot about the possibility of a child growing inside him. He just ran, and there was nothing besides him and the pavement. He ran to the edge of the neighborhood and followed the trails into and through the forest. Here the world was still covered in shadow. He breathed in the frigid air, feeling it burn his lungs and reveling in it. He pushed his pace, enjoying the tension and ache in his legs. He ran for a couple of hours, looping around forest trails while the world beyond began to wake up.
He checked his watch occasionally, and when he was sure it had reached the time when kids would be in schools and adults would be at work, he headed through the forest toward the park. The park wasn’t as big as some city parks, but it was decent for such a small town. It had swing sets, bars, and wooden forts. It had metal merry-go-rounds, see-saws, monkey bars, and jungle gyms. It had nearly everything a child could want. It was surrounded by fields and had a tennis court, a basket court, and a baseball diamond that was used for kickball more often than not. It had picnic benches, grills, and a sheltered area for eating out of the sun and rain.
