His Two Alphas

by Anna Wineheart

  “Ah.” Bernard narrowed his eyes. “No, nothing.”

  “I should be going,” Micah said, turning for the door. All he needed was to keep his mouth shut, and wait until he got Kai alone. If only you knew, Bernard.

  Except Bernard’s nostrils flared. And Micah tensed at the honey scent on himself, the lingering notes of elm and juniper that he’d not hidden, because he didn’t have consultations or classes scheduled for this morning.

  “You’re expecting?” Bernard asked mildly, glancing at Micah’s belly.

  It wasn’t obvious—at sixteen weeks, all Micah had was a barely-there baby bump. “Yes,” he said, sliding his hand over his belly to protect his baby from Bernard’s stare. I know I’m old. I don’t need to hear about it.

  “Who’s your alpha?” Bernard’s stare bore into him. “The scent seems familiar. Or are there two?”

  Micah stopped breathing. Because one of them is your son.

  Harold Saxon wandered over to join them, eyebrows raised. He was older, in his sixties. “What’s the problem? Micah?”

  “I was congratulating Davis on his pregnancy,” Bernard said, reaching out for a handshake. “And on finally finding an alpha. I guess the cosmetics helped.”

  Micah flushed. Bernard didn’t have to make Micah sound so undesirable.

  And now Harold was sniffing at Micah, too. As the chemistry department head, Harold would be familiar with Kai and Spike’s scents—the brothers went everywhere together. Harold’s eyebrows crawled up his forehead.

  “I have a lecture starting soon,” Micah said, awkwardly accepting Bernard’s handshake. Bernard’s grip felt restrictive around him, cold and threatening. “But thank you. I’ve been seeing someone outside the college.”

  “I could’ve sworn the scents were familiar,” Harold said. “There are some students with these same scents.”

  “I hope you aren’t suggesting that I’m dating my own students.” Micah hoped his voice didn’t betray him. His ears grew hot, though, and his insides shriveled. “Plenty of people share similar scents.”

  Both Bernard and Harold scrutinized him. Had they seen through Micah’s lie?

  As slowly as he could, Micah pulled his hand out of Bernard’s grip, stepping away. These two alphas... they had too much power over Micah by themselves. Together, they could easily put Micah out of a job.

  “I believe you saw my email,” Bernard said pleasantly. “Do tell if you encounter any staff member violating college policy.”

  And the threat that Bernard didn’t voice: If we find out that you’ve been seeing our students, we will take action against you.

  Micah’s blood ran cold.

  “I will,” he said, all but trembling now. Then he turned and strode toward the exit, his head held high, his heart beating so fast it almost burst.

  Bernard and Harold’s stares sank like barbed hooks into his skin. Micah couldn’t shake their attention, not until he’d stepped out of the department office. From there, he hurried back to his office, not caring about the twinge in his leg, or the cold sweat that prickled all over his body.

  He didn’t stop shaking until he’d locked himself back in his office, and sunken into his chair. The scents of paper and tea didn’t comfort him like they always did.

  Micah hugged himself. He didn’t dare unlock his phone, or hit one of the numbers on speed-dial. He didn’t dare talk to Kai or Spike right now. It felt too risky.

  I can’t lose this job. I have a baby to raise.

  Bernard wouldn’t care about that, though, and neither would Harold. Micah meant nothing to them.

  26

  Kai

  “What’s with this text?” Kai asked, looking up from his phone.

  “Beats me.” Spike glanced askance at the brightly-lit screen, wriggling his own phone. “Why can’t Micah tell us himself? I haven’t heard from him all day.”

  On the screen, the message read, Dad says he’ll see you guys at home instead of at the office.

  “Think he wants us to go to the office anyway?” Spike asked, eyeing the chemistry building. They’d been at basketball practice, Kai’s ankle healed enough that he was back with his team, playing practice games for the new season.

  And that scholarship appeal he’d submitted... he hadn’t heard anything about it.

  “He might be busy,” Kai said. “Let’s head back. Start dinner or something. Give him a surprise.”

  Spike perked up at that. “Sounds good.”

  “Wanna stop by Pigeon’s? If he’s that caught up in work, he might appreciate a gift. We haven’t really talked about the baby.”

  Spike wriggled in delight. “I knew there was a reason I kept you around. Let’s go.”

  Kai snorted, turning the car out of the parking lot. “That’s all you keep me around for.”

  It wasn’t true, but more often than not, Spike had been wrapping himself around Micah in their bed, holding possessively onto him as they slept. Kai had been on the outside of that, and it didn’t feel quite as good, watching Micah murmur to Spike, I love you.

  Would Micah ever love Kai? Or was that slipped-up endearment in the bathroom all Kai would ever hear from him? It wasn’t like Kai was staying in Meadowfall for long, anyway, if Micah didn’t need him around.

  He shoved away the pang of envy in his chest, heading for the largest department store.

  The baby section was vast—stacks of onesies, mittens, and socks, and shelves of stuffed toys and blankets. They paused at the edge of the section, momentarily stumped for words.

  “I think Micah will find his way around here a lot easier,” Spike finally said, scratching his neck. “What do you think he wants?”

  Kai had peeked into Micah’s closet—he hadn’t been able to find any of York’s baby things, except for a small drawer half-full of tiny, fire-damaged clothes. “Clothes, I think,” Kai eventually said. All babies needed clothes, right? “But I hear they outgrow clothes damn fast.”

  “What if we get some big ones?” Spike headed for a rack of PJs for two-year-olds.

  Kai thought about it. “The baby can’t wear these for two whole years. Maybe some six-month clothes, some twelve-month clothes, some eighteen-month ones. Three of each.”

  “Three is enough, right?” Spike asked, glancing at the price tags. “They’ll add up fast.”

  Kai sighed. He’d taken up a second part-time job, too, trying to fund his studies. Money was still tight—they’d been insisting that Micah take more than the rent he asked for; he’d been buying food for them, too. But that left them with... not a lot of extra cash to go around. At least Kai’s ankle had mostly healed, so he could walk and play basketball with his team again.

  Spike looked at him sidelong. “We keep trying to save up,” Spike murmured. “And yet I think this is hardly a drop compared to the kind of money Micah makes.”

  “He’s way out of our league.” Kai had known that for a while. He hadn’t wanted to remind Spike, though.

  “He’s ours,” Spike said, but he looked more uncertain now. “I won’t disappoint him.”

  “Neither will I.”

  Spike’s phone buzzed. He opened the new message; Kai looked over his shoulder. Spike had been having a conversation with their mom, asking how she’d been doing.

  Not so great, she answered. The car broke down. I had to fix my transmission, but I’ll need to take up more hours to pay for it. Hours are hard to come by lately.

  Kai stared at the message, his heart sinking. For the longest time, Kai remembered Mom teaching him and Spike to keep an emergency fund, so they could deal with things like this. But emergency funds weren’t always enough. Sometimes, you needed far more than you had.

  Spike sighed, resigned. “How much do you wanna send her way?”

  The phone buzzed with another message. DON’T give me more money, Mom wrote. I can manage.

  Spike snorted. “Yeah, right, Mom. That’s not how we roll.”

  Yeah, it really wasn’t. “Transmissions are expen
sive. Heard someone paying a grand to get theirs done.” Kai grimaced. “We could scrape together five hundred.”

  “How much does that leave us?”

  “Negative fifty. I get paid this Friday.”

  Spike’s throat worked. He pulled open his wallet, fingering the bills he had left. “So... are we still doing the baby clothes for Micah?”

  Kai wanted to. And from the look on Spike’s face, Spike did, too. “We’ll do one of each size,” Kai finally said. “And a rain check on multiples.”

  It wasn’t much, but Spike cheered up some. “I feel so cheap, getting him one of each size. He can buy like, five each himself, easy.”

  Kai exhaled. He wanted to do more for Micah. He wanted to show how much he appreciated that omega. But short of taking up a third job and tanking his grades even further... “We’ll think of something,” Kai said. “Fix dinners every day instead of just helping out. So he has time to himself.”

  Spike nodded eagerly. “Yeah, we’ll do that.”

  At the cashier, Kai cracked open his wallet, handing Spike what little money he had left. It wasn’t much. But the joy on Spike’s face when the transaction went through—that was worth it.

  Spike clutched the bag of baby clothes as they headed out of Pigeons, a tiny skip in his step. “I think Micah will love these.”

  Kai cheered up. “Yeah, me too.”

  They found Micah’s car back at the apartment. The doors on the driver’s side had been replaced—instead of white like the rest of the car, the new doors were a matte black. It had been weeks since the crash, but the sight jarred Kai every time.

  “Someday, I swear, I’m going to make enough to give Micah everything he needs,” Spike muttered.

  That future seemed so far away.

  The moment Kai stepped through the apartment door, the scent of tomato-y pasta sauce filled his nose. He followed Spike into the kitchen; Micah looked up.

  “I didn’t think you were back already,” Spike said, sliding his arms around Micah’s waist, dropping kisses all over his face. “How was your day?”

  Micah tensed, his eyes darting to Kai, and back to Spike. Something was wrong. On instinct, Kai stepped closer.

  “Micah?” Spike asked, looking into his eyes.

  The professor sighed, rubbing his face. “Some things happened today. I don’t think this is... a good arrangement for all of us.”

  Kai’s stomach dropped. What, you want to break up?

  “I don’t understand,” Spike said. “What happened?”

  Micah glanced at the kitchen doorway. Then he turned down the burners on the stove, and sagged against Spike, looking so dejected that Kai prowled forward, sandwiching Micah from his other side. He wanted to protect Micah, so nothing could make him look so hopeless again.

  Slowly, Micah turned to lock gazes with Kai. “It mostly affects you,” Micah said quietly. “I met Bernard today. The college president. He doesn’t want to approve your scholarship appeal.”

  Kai’s chest squeezed. He’d been hoping to get back the other half of his scholarship. “Why?”

  “Because—” Micah hesitated, biting his lip. “If... I told you that your dad isn’t really your dad, would you believe me?”

  Spike frowned. Kai just stared. “What?”

  “Remember I asked if you were related to Bernard Hastings?” Micah grimaced when Kai nodded. “It turns out that somehow... you share his genes. He’s had a paternal test done in secret.”

  Kai remembered an odd cheek swab he’d done during his yearly physical exam, but he hadn’t thought much of it at that time. “So... he’s my actual dad.”

  “Very likely, yes.” Micah winced. “It wasn’t a conversation I was supposed to overhear. I’m sorry.”

  Kai’s thoughts whirled. Dad isn’t my dad? He thought about the aging alpha living with his mother, the man he’d called Dad ever since he was a child. The alpha who had stared blankly when Kai got full marks on his exam, and whom Kai had tried to convince to set down his beer bottles. It had never worked.

  Sometimes, Dad cared about Kai. Sometimes, he didn’t, to the extent that Kai loved him and hated him in equal measure.

  “How?” Spike asked, meeting Kai’s gaze. “You don’t know who your bio omega dad is, so...”

  “I guess my omega dad slept with Hastings,” Kai muttered, rubbing his temples. Then he had me, and Dad either knew about Hastings, or he didn’t.”

  Dad had had too many unfaithful omegas, and he’d been so absent from Kai’s life, that Kai wasn’t wrecked by the news. But it still shook him anyway, like claws piercing under his skin.

  “Should I have told you?” Micah took Kai’s hand, peering worriedly into his eyes.

  “I’ll be fine,” Kai muttered. “Just have to let it sink in.”

  “What’s Hastings being Kai’s dad have to do with his scholarship?” Spike scowled.

  Micah closed his eyes. “He doesn’t want his wife to make the connection. Apparently she’s seen Kai on the court. Bernard wants Kai out of Meadowfall College.”

  Yeah, okay, now Kai felt like hitting something. What kind of parent was that bastard? Even Kai’s dad... At least Dad had brought food back sometimes.

  I have that bastard’s blood in my veins. There wasn’t a more revolting thought.

  And yet... What would happen to Kai, if he couldn’t continue on in Meadowfall College? What about the efforts he’d put into his basketball career?

  Panic flickered into Kai’s heart.

  “I’ve thought about it,” Micah continued hesitantly. “You could apply for a scholarship at other colleges. Highton’s a good one for basketball. They’ll be happy to have you, and you’ll get a much better shot at being picked by the NBA.”

  Kai froze, his breath catching. Leaving Spike and Micah, to pursue his dreams? Now?

  His stomach squeezed and flipped. “I—I need to think about it.”

  Over Micah’s shoulder, Spike’s gaze dulled. “You promised to stay until I graduate and get a job.”

  Kai swallowed. He looked at Spike’s torn expression, and said, “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

  But deep down, he wasn’t so sure. How many times in your life did you get to join the most prestigious basketball league? Kai had been playing all his life to win.

  It was better than thinking about Dad, or Bernard Hastings as his father—the alpha who had found out, and proceeded to cast Kai aside.

  “What’s Hastings like?” Spike asked dubiously. “I’ve heard shitty things about him.”

  Micah breathed out slowly, not meeting their eyes. “He’s a cruel person. I—I dated him briefly, in the past.”

  Then he flushed, and turned back to his pot of pasta sauce.

  “You dated him?” Spike looked incredulous. Kai wasn’t even sure what to think, anymore. This was too much to deal with.

  “So if you and Hastings somehow had a child, that could’ve been Kai, too?”

  “What the fuck,” Kai spluttered.

  Micah looked just as horrified. “No!”

  “Okay, forget I said that.” Spike frowned. “Back to Hastings.”

  “No,” Micah said firmly, keeping his gaze down. “We’re not talking about him.” A flush went up his neck, though, like there was something else he was hiding.

  “York isn’t his kid, right?” Kai asked.

  Micah shook his head vigorously. “No!”

  “Okay. That’s all I need to know.” Kai held Micah’s hand, filing away all his thoughts. There were too many things going on, and Micah still looked uneasy.

  “Why’d you not want to meet us today?” Spike asked, reading Kai’s mind. “You couldn’t even message us. York had to do it.”

  Micah sighed. “I think Bernard smelled Kai on me. And Harold—the chemistry department head—he recognized both your scents. I slipped up and didn’t erase it.”

  And that threatened Micah’s job—the only reliable source of income any of them had right now. Kai’s stomach turned.

 
“Shit,” Spike said.

  “We’ll hold off on marking you, if that’s what you want,” Kai said, the words sour on his tongue.

  Micah looked dismayed. “I just have to remember to erase it.” Then he flushed. “I... like belonging. To both of you.”

  That sent a happy rumble through Kai’s chest, easing the weight on his heart. Micah liked being his.

  On Micah’s other side, Spike brightened, nuzzling Micah’s temple. Kai slipped his arms around Micah, dragging his wrist down Micah’s warm, narrow chest. He pressed his nose into Micah’s hair, breathing in gardenia and honey. And he kissed Micah’s ear, then his temple, and his lips. Mine.

  Thinking of Micah as his... That made something in Kai’s heart settle.

  Micah’s shirt hem caught on his fingers. It peeled up from his belly, and there was his baby bump, small but noticeable. Kai stilled; Micah glanced down, pressing his hand over his abdomen.

  There was something in there that belonged to Kai and Spike. Kai still didn’t know how to feel about the baby, but he knew he had to protect Micah. And that clashed with applying for a scholarship in Highton. But if he had a scholarship... Kai wouldn’t be a liability.

  “Here,” Spike said, shoving the bag of baby clothes into Kai’s hand. “You give it to him.”

  Kai scowled, shoving it back. “I did the giving last time. You do it.”

  Spike shoved the bag back at Kai. “No, you.”

  Micah stared at both of them, bewildered and amused. “What is that?”

  “Baby clothes,” Kai said. “We could only get this many right now, but we’ll get you more next month.”

  Spike grabbed Kai’s hand, and together, they pushed the package at Micah. “Kai wanted to do this for you.”

  Kai knew what Spike was doing. He was nudging Micah toward Kai. And that surprised, fond look in Micah’s eyes—that made any protest wither in Kai’s throat.

  Micah accepted the bag, peeking into it. He pulled out the soft onesies, laying them out on the kitchen counter. The animal prints were all different—elephants, giraffes, hippos, and rabbits. “You got them all in different sizes,” Micah said, his voice thickening.