His Two Alphas

by Anna Wineheart

  Some nights, he went out drinking with them. Those nights, he went back on his promise to himself, and got just a little bit buzzed. Then he’d remember Dad with his drunkenness, and he’d stop drinking. Only to spot couples in the bars, their arms around each other, their marks on each other’s wrists.

  Kai’s scent glands itched, all of them empty. He remembered the bite mark he’d left on Micah.

  Spike had filled in the space Kai had left with their omega, hadn’t he? Kai was afraid to find out.

  He’d been keeping the video calls brief, so he could protect his heart a little better. So he wouldn’t hurt so damn much when he saw Spike and Micah kiss, when they were sitting next to each other, their arms touching, Micah smiling when Spike brushed his fingers through Micah’s hair.

  They didn’t need Kai. They had each other. Kai had heard on the news that the United States president had signed off on the professorial relationship bill.

  It had become a law. There was nothing stopping Spike and Micah from holding hands in public, nothing stopping them from getting married, like Spike wanted.

  Deep down, Kai knew the two of them would get closer. They’d forget about him, and then he’d be left relying on his teammates for company, whether he liked it or not.

  When he returned in four months... would there still be space in Micah and Spike’s bed?

  * * *

  Two months into Kai’s contract in Colorado, they exchanged care packages. Kai had made Spike and Micah promise not to open his box until he could watch them on video, and they’d made him promise the same of their parcel.

  Kai was sitting next to their box, at the head of his bed, when they began the next video call.

  Micah beamed on the screen, his hair damp from a shower, his eyes lighting up. Gods, he was always so beautiful. So damn amazing. Maybe Kai was starting to sound a bit like Spike, but he didn’t care. Just cradled his phone in his hands, staring at that omega.

  “He’s ogling you,” Spike said dryly.

  “How are you so sure he’s not ogling you?” Micah asked.

  “Because I’m still pissed with him.” Spike shot Kai the finger, but after a while, he smiled. “I miss you, you asshole.”

  Kai’s breath stuck in his throat. Spike’s anger had faded somewhat, and now Kai couldn’t bear to look at Spike too long, either, because he wanted to press his forehead against Spike, and just breathe him in.

  Micah elbowed Spike. “Blame me. I encouraged him. But Kai misses you, too. Don’t make this harder on him, Spike.”

  Spike sniffed grudgingly. Kai’s heart swelled, though. “I miss you,” Kai said, his throat growing tight.

  Spike blinked hard, looking away. “Open your box, damn it.”

  Their box was bigger than the one Kai had sent, and just a little heavier. Kai cut through the shipping tape with a box cutter, peering inside. He found clothes in two separate, sealed bags. A sweater and a pair of pants in the first bag, rumpled and messy. They were familiar clothes—a couple of items Kai had left behind, since he shared all his clothes with Spike.

  The only difference was that the sweater and pants smelled like juniper—all of it. Rich and earthy, like Spike had been wearing these for two whole weeks, his scent heavy on them.

  Kai buried his face in Spike’s clothes, his heart thumping. They smelled like home.

  “I guess he likes those,” Micah said, a smile in his voice.

  Kai couldn’t even speak. His throat had closed up.

  “Open the other one,” Spike muttered. When Kai looked back at his phone, he found a blush on Spike’s cheeks. Spike was smiling.

  The clothes in the second bag were smaller, all gardenia and honey. Kai sniffed at them, too, filling his lungs with Micah’s scent. It was probably the best gift he’d ever received, with the way the scents sat around him now, as though Spike and Micah were right there with him.

  “Micah and I thought you might like those,” Spike muttered.

  “Thanks,” Kai croaked. “I appreciate it.”

  He left the clothes on himself, so they felt like a hug. Further down in the box, he found boxes of chocolate chip cookies—his favorite—some packages of beef jerky, and a vacuum-sealed bag of dark-roasted coffee beans.

  “For our star athlete,” Micah said, beaming. “Spike threw in the cookies.”

  Kai cracked another smile. “I’ll eat them all. Slowly.”

  At the bottom of the box, he found an autographed jersey from Phil O’Riley—one of the greatest basketball stars right now. Kai’s eyes grew wide. He’d been eyeing that jersey for a while.

  “Happy birthday,” Spike and Micah said, smiles on their faces.

  Kai looked back at them, his heart aching. The presents were all great, but... They were nothing compared to having Spike and Micah in his arms. “Thanks.” He swallowed hard. “Are you gonna open my box?”

  And now his pulse began to patter, because he really wanted to know whether they’d like his gifts.

  Spike cut through the tape on the box, before handing it to Micah. Micah’s eyes grew wide at the full set of cosmetics there. It wasn’t much, but Kai had peeked into Micah’s stash before he’d left for Colorado.

  Kai shrugged. “Not that you have to wear it, you know. Just in case you wanted to. You’re beautiful straight out of the shower.”

  A tiny laugh bubbled out of Micah. He leaned close to the camera, and blew a kiss. Kai stopped breathing. Could just imagine those lips on his skin. He’d been thinking about them a lot lately, in bed. The silicone tube was nothing compared to Spike or Micah in person, in his arms.

  Spike pulled an organic chemistry textbook out of the box, labeled Spike. “Seriously?” he asked, flipping Kai off.

  Kai coughed, unable to help his grin. “I asked Micah which one you needed next.”

  Micah bit down his smile, his eyes sparkling. He’d been in on that joke, and Kai had smiled whenever he imagined Spike’s reaction.

  “Micah gets things for looking pretty, and I get homework. Thanks.” Spike rolled his eyes.

  “There’s something else in there for you,” Kai said. “Split it with Mom. You decide how much.”

  Surprise darted through Spike’s face. He reached into the box for the last item—a small envelope, with just one check. When Spike pulled it out, his eyes widened. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

  Ten grand. Kai had been saving up over the past two months of playing basketball—out of the fourteen grand of his pay, he’d taken a couple out for his daily necessities, and a couple out for taxes. The rest, he’d sent along to Spike.

  Micah peeked over Spike’s shoulder, his eyebrows rising. Then he smiled. “That feels good, doesn’t it, Kai?”

  “Yeah, it does. But don’t spend it all at once,” Kai said dryly. “It’s supposed to last the year.”

  “You really are my sugar brother.” Spike grinned. For the first time in a while, he seemed truly happy with Kai. Then he leaned forward, and his smile fell. “But it’s not the same as you being here.”

  Kai’s heart sank. “I’m doing the best I can.”

  He imagined years of doing video calls, though, watching the video on his phone while Spike and Micah got to hug and touch each other. Watching as they grew closer, and Kai drifted away from them. Envy coiled in his gut.

  “Are you happy, Kai?” Micah asked, studying him. It was that same shrewd look as when he’d asked Kai about the future Kai wanted.

  Kai rolled his shoulders. Having Micah and Spike’s clothes with him... it eased the ache a little. But it wasn’t the same—

  Micah gasped, looking down. He touched his belly; Spike leaned forward. “What happened?” Spike asked.

  “That was a really hard kick,” Micah said, a laugh bubbling out of him. “She’s a feisty one.”

  “‘She’?” Spike asked, pressing his hand over Micah’s belly, trying to feel the baby kicking, too. “But you didn’t want to know what the baby was at the ultrasound.”

  Micah sh
ook his head. “I just have a feeling it’s a she.”

  Spike looked doubtful. Kai breathed out.

  Last month, Micah and Spike had gone for an ultrasound. They’d wanted to call Kai that night, but Kai had pretended not to see the message. Because he’d wanted to avoid something like this. He’d wanted to avoid looking at Spike and Micah fawning over Micah’s baby bump, their excitement palpable.

  Kai was going to fuck up being a dad. He couldn’t do this. And yet, watching them from this side of the call... it gave him that uneasy feeling that he was being left out again.

  At six months, Micah’s belly was rounder now, maybe half the size of a basketball. There was a baby in there, and Micah practically glowed with anticipation.

  “She moved! I felt it!” Spike sucked in a sharp breath, his palm pressed against Micah’s belly.

  “Should I fly home?” Kai asked, feeling like he was witnessing an intimate moment he wasn’t supposed to.

  “No,” Micah said, looking up. “Stay the full season, as long as you can.”

  “Don’t tell him that!” Spike scowled. “I want Kai back.”

  “Enough to deny him his future?” Micah shook his head. “Let him have this, Spike. You can have him after.”

  “But there’ll be no after,” Spike said, his lips thinning. “The recruiting games for the major league happen after the season ends. Kai’s gonna get picked and traded to a big league team.”

  Micah looked to Kai for an answer. Kai had heard about the recruiting games, yeah. He wasn’t sure if he’d be picked, but if he could join the major league... he’d earn so much more money. The starting salary for a new recruit was eight hundred grand a year.

  That was enough to buy Mom a house, and Spike another house. And Spike would never have to worry about being homeless ever again.

  “You’re coming back, right?” Spike asked uncertainly. “After this season?”

  Kai swallowed hard. “I might get some time to between seasons. I don’t know.”

  “You need to come back,” Spike said, his tone pleading.

  “Your career’s important, too,” Micah said, frowning. “If you think it’s better for you to stay, then keep playing, Kai. Follow your dreams.”

  “Micah!” Spike looked at Micah, aghast. “I need him.”

  Micah sighed. “Dreams are important too, Spike.”

  “We’ll see,” Kai said. He looked between Spike and Micah, knowing that no matter how hard he tried, Spike would always be the better alpha for Micah. Spike loved easily, he laughed easily. He was the brightest spark in Micah’s life. He had always loved that omega.

  And Kai? Kai didn’t know how to be a proper dad. He’d punched his own father. He was afraid to even touch Micah’s belly.

  By staying in Colorado, by continuing to play basketball through the years so Spike could focus on school and Micah and the baby... If that came at the cost of Kai’s heart, then Kai would gladly sacrifice it, so Spike and Micah could have their happiness.

  And if that meant breaking up with them... Kai would do it, too.

  31

  Spike

  Spike stared at the check, turning it over in his hands. He couldn’t take his eyes off the zeroes Kai had written. Ten grand. In two months.

  He traced his fingers over the writing—Kai pressed down hard whenever he wrote anything. So the front of the check had grooves where Kai’s pen had dug down, and the back of the check was all raised ridges and curves. “Ten thousand dollars only”, but backward.

  Touching those lines... Spike could imagine Kai bent over his very first checkbook, writing this out. Kai had probably been proud. He would’ve had a tiny smile on his face as he tucked the check into an envelope, and then into the box.

  Because that was Kai, always needing to make sure he provided for Spike, always needing to make sure Spike was okay.

  Except Spike was no longer okay. He hadn’t been for two months, and Kai didn’t intend to return to Meadowfall after this season. Why would he? He was making big money now. He was getting somewhere in life.

  Part of Spike said, Kai gave most of his earnings to you. The other part of him said, Kai has everything again. Kai did—he had a well-paying job, he had a basketball team who wanted him, he wasn’t a liability anymore. Unlike Spike.

  Spike laid the check on the nightstand, glancing at the omega sleeping by his side. It was still early in the day—just past six. They’d called Kai last night, and Kai had ended the video call abruptly, as though he didn’t want to hang around with Spike or Micah anymore.

  Spike touched the soft skin of Micah’s side, then turned back to the check. He’d never even seen that much money in his life. To think Kai had made it in two months...

  Gods, I’m pathetic. His part-time jobs at the taco place and bakery brought in a little under a grand every month. Most of that went into rent, food, and gas. The rest of his money went to Mom, or gifts for Micah, or his tuition. There hadn’t been enough that he could just... have on hand.

  The thing was, Spike had grown up knowing he’d need to provide. He’d watched Mom struggle to make rent, and he’d told himself, I want to help. I want to be good enough. I want to make enough money so Mom won’t have to cry when she looks at the bills.

  And here Kai was, surpassing Spike in every way possible.

  Why would Micah want me, when Kai’s so much better?

  Before he could think further, Micah snuffled in his sleep. Then he spasmed, like he was having one of his nightmares.

  Frowning, Spike sat up, grasping Micah’s shoulders. But Micah struggled and cried out in terror, thrashing against the sheets that had tangled around him. Spike tugged the sheets away from Micah’s legs, then gathered Micah into his arms, holding him close.

  “It’s a nightmare,” Spike said. “Micah! Wake up. It’s not real.”

  Micah struggled, his voice broken and helpless. Spike’s heart twisted. Micah should never sound that way. He shook Micah, repeating his name until Micah finally sucked in a gasping breath. His eyes flew open, full of unshed tears.

  “It’s okay,” Spike whispered, guilt filling his heart. He knew what that nightmare had been about. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

  Micah trembled, pressing his face into Spike’s chest. “It felt so real.”

  Spike caressed the scars down Micah’s right side. “You’ve healed. It’s okay.”

  Micah huddled into him and shook, not saying anything. Spike held him.

  Spike remembered the first time he and Kai had woken to Micah’s nightmares. They’d all been asleep, except Micah had suddenly kicked and flailed. Kai and Spike had crowded close to him, caressing him. When Micah had finally woken, his gaze had been haunted.

  Later that morning, Kai had asked Micah, What did you dream about?

  Spike wished Kai had never asked it, because Micah had answered, The fire that gave me these scars. It was all around me. I couldn’t escape.

  Kai had glanced at Spike, and suddenly all the years of Spike trying to convince Kai just how bad the fire had been, all the years of Spike telling Kai he’d set the house on fire—Kai hadn’t cared at first, because Micah hadn’t been his omega. Until Micah suddenly was, and Kai understood the true horrors of what Spike had done.

  Kai hadn’t judged Spike, but Spike had felt so fucking ashamed in front of his brother.

  Ten years ago, Micah had napped, knowing his babysitter had been in charge of a backyard party. Then the fireworks had gone awry, and Micah had woken up with his bedroom full of smoke.

  He’d recounted it all to Kai and Spike—the wall by his bed ablaze, the sheets on fire around Micah’s body. Micah had fainted in sheer panic. He’d struggled in and out of consciousness to get himself off the bed, but the fire had already eaten into his flesh.

  Spike couldn’t imagine the terror Micah must’ve felt, he couldn’t imagine the pain. And then the numbness, after Micah had lost his nerve endings.

  “It’s not your fault,” Spike said to Micah now
, trying to suppress the overpowering guilt that welled up again. “I’m here.”

  Micah trembled, huddling against him. Spike kissed Micah’s wet cheeks, wiping his tears away. I don’t deserve to call you mine, after what I’ve done to you.

  “I’m here,” Spike said again, even as he remembered the weight of the fireworks tube in his hands, the shrill whistle of it soaring through the air. The fire swallowing the house. I’m sorry about the scars. I’m sorry you’re suffering because of me.

  Eventually, Micah stopped trembling. Spike cupped Micah’s face, peering into his eyes. “Better now?”

  “Yeah,” Micah croaked, but that haunted look in his eyes remained.

  Spike stroked Micah’s hair, then his scarred side, glancing at the bonding mark on Micah’s neck. There was still the one bite on it, off-balance and not right. Micah had turned down Spike’s offers to mark him.

  I should just stop asking, Spike thought. Maybe I don’t deserve Micah. I’ve hurt him.

  He glimpsed the check from Kai when he helped Micah off the bed. Spike’s heart grew heavier; he tried to ignore the truth that rose before them: Spike had hurt Micah, and he didn’t even have the money to pay for their baby.

  When Micah realized just how young and clueless Spike was... what if he sent Spike away? What if Micah wanted only Kai?

  His pulse thudding in his throat, Spike kept his mouth shut, helping Micah get dressed. The less they talked about Spike’s flaws, the longer Micah would let him stay around.

  Beggars could never be choosers—Spike had learned that from his mom, too.

  32

  Micah

  “Kai should come home,” Spike said a week later, as he walked with Micah to his office in the science faculty building. “He isn’t happy there.”

  Kai had been unhappy during their video calls, but Micah wasn’t sure if it was because Kai was homesick, or if it was something else. Kai hadn’t wanted to talk about it. “Do you think that’s why he hasn’t been online lately?”