The Omega's Secret Pregnancy (Men of Meadowfall Book 1)

by Anna Wineheart

  27

  Felix

  The rack of baby clothes blurs. Felix buries his face in his hands, tears smearing over his palms.

  Kade’s eyes had burned with fury and betrayal. Then he had turned, walked out of the store, and Felix doesn’t deserve to be here at all. He’s hurt his alpha. Lied to him. Betrayed him.

  Felix sinks to a crouch, trying to breathe, but he’s sobbing and he can’t stop it, can’t stop the sudden chill in his limbs. Kade hates me now. He shouldn’t have found out. I shouldn’t have been here.

  He bites hard on his lip, choking, and his nails dig into his skin. He shouldn’t even be in Meadowfall at all.

  I freed him of the responsibility. He won’t be tied down by a child now. Felix holds his limbs still, trying not to shake, but the thought of Kade leaving breaks something in his chest. Kade has never abandoned him, and it hurts like the ripping of a jagged knife. Felix sobs, hating the pregnancy, hating his hormones, hating himself.

  It’ll just be you and me when we leave, he thinks to the unborn child. Kade won’t find us. He won’t be disappointed. I don’t think he’ll come looking if he doesn’t want us.

  As he struggles to breathe, a gentle hand rests on his back.

  “Oh, Felix,” Taylor whispers, hugging him close. “What did you do?”

  Felix shakes his head. He doesn’t have an answer. The truth will turn Kade against him, anyway. If he leaves now, Kade won’t learn about the bankruptcy, about his father dying because of Felix, and maybe he’ll be happier for it.

  Taylor tugs on his elbow, but he doesn’t budge. He feels his brother settling down next to him, draping one arm over his shoulders. Felix ducks his head, afraid to even look up. He doesn’t want to see any pitiful stares or curious looks.

  “Doesn’t he want it?” Taylor asks some minutes later, stroking his back. “I thought...”

  “I told him it isn’t his,” Felix says, his voice ragged.

  Taylor’s fingers still against his back, and he groans. “Felix, you idiot.”

  But Felix has always been an idiot, hasn’t he? He curls up against his brother, thinking about all the reasons why Kade would leave, why Kade should leave.

  He curls into himself, breaking, and Taylor’s embrace brings him no comfort at all.

  28

  Kade

  Kade rides for hours, following random traffic off the highway.

  He turns off an exit ramp, riding down empty asphalt roads, spiny shrubs skimming by to the sides. He makes a right at one crossroad, then left at the next, and he’s riding in circles, getting further and further from Meadowfall, until all he sees are the mountains in the distance, and trees rising up around him, their pointed tips stretching for the sky.

  Felix is pregnant with someone else’s child.

  Kade sucks in a deep breath, releases it. Then he inhales again, breathes out, and repeats the process. It doesn’t ease the ache in his chest. Felix had lied to him, kept the baby a secret, never intending for him to find out.

  He swallows, twisting the throttle. The bike speeds up, and it feels like he’s flying along the roads, leaving everything behind.

  When the sun crawls lower in the sky, Kade remembers the work he left at home, the new program that needs coding done, and the minor fixes for another project. Deadlines coming up. Someone needs to do them. The thought anchors him to Meadowfall, to a purpose other than himself.

  He reaches for his phone, plots a route, and heads back.

  When he steps into the house hours later, he finds strains of classical music floating through the hall, and his mother in the kitchen. Kade pauses in the doorway.

  She glances up from her crossword puzzle when he walks in, her forehead wrinkling. “You’ve been gone a while.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I was hoping for you to get the tea, but I drove out and bought it myself.”

  He notices the teacup by her side then, and the tea tag dangling over its rim. Tea...? He had been going out for tea. He’d gone to the store for tea, and found Felix in the baby clothes section instead. Felix is pregnant. It’s not his child.

  He swallows the ache in his throat, turning away. “Sorry. Things happened.”

  His mom watches him carefully. “Is it Felix?”

  He flinches. Is he that obvious? “How did you know?”

  “Is he doing fine?”

  How the fuck would I know? Kade pulls the fridge open, looking over the yogurt cups, the rice in plastic boxes, the jug of filtered water. He’s not hungry, but he should eat. It’s 8 PM. “He’s fine.”

  It hurts again, Felix keeping secrets from him, Felix with someone else’s baby.

  “He’s pregnant,” he says, cutting the words off before his voice breaks. His mom frowns, leaning closer. But she doesn’t seem surprised, and it rankles. “You knew?”

  “Yes,” she says slowly. “But I felt it wasn’t my news to share.”

  Kade sighs, shoving the fridge door shut. She’s only seen Felix once since he’s been back. “Am I the last fucking person to know?”

  “There are signs and smells I recognize, Kade. It’s not something I would expect you to pick up on.”

  He closes his eyes, wishing things were somehow different. Wishing he asked Felix why he isn’t good enough, why he left five years ago. But Felix has someone else’s baby, and that says everything, doesn’t it? He doesn’t need Kade around.

  “Congrats?” His mom eyes him as though he’s a feral dog.

  “It’s not mine,” Kade snarls, and the humiliation burns through his cheeks, all through his face. He stalks out the kitchen. He doesn’t know how to face his mom, or anyone who knows. No one else should. Felix has been hiding it.

  But it doesn’t erase the fact that Felix is his omega, that Felix should be carrying his child, and he isn’t because Kade wasn’t good enough to keep him.

  “Kade,” his mom says. He pauses in the painting-lined hallway, his back to her. “Have you considered that Felix may still... need you?”

  “Why the hell would he?”

  “Because you’re still his alpha. That’s not a bond you can erase.”

  He wants Felix to need him, and the thought sends hope unfurling through his chest. Kade glances down at his own wrist, a faint scar left from a hesitant bite.

  I don’t want to hurt you, Felix had said, twenty years ago.

  Kade clenches his fist, turning his wrist away. “He doesn’t want the bond.”

  “And that’s why you’re still carrying that ring? You know we don’t reuse rings for a second mate.”

  “I don’t want to think about it,” he says, looking at the glass cabinet with all her miniature teapots. “It’s over.”

  She falls silent, and he takes the few steps to his bedroom. Before he shuts the door, she asks gently, “Do you remember your oath?”

  Kade shuts the door with a click, pressing his forehead against it.

  Yes. Of course he does.

  29

  Kade

  20 Years Ago

  “Now, Dad had to work early, so listen up in class. And that boy, Felix? Don’t get him in trouble,” Mom says, kissing Kade on the cheek. The car engine purrs softly around them. “If I get another note about you and him sneaking out again...”

  “It was just for ice cream, Mom,” Kade says, scowling at Chris and Sam in the back seat. “And it was only four times.”

  “Four times is four times too many,” Mom says, looking stern.

  Kade’s brothers wink at him. They’re the ones always getting into shit, and Mom scolds him for buying ice cream with Felix. He’s ten years old; he’d rather not play with his brothers’ third-grade friends. “I’ll be good,” Kade sighs.

  She leans toward the back, so Chris and Sam can kiss her too. Kade’s brothers push their door open, scooting out of the car, and a medley of voices from the school courtyard drift in.

  Mom settles back in her seat, her left hand cradling the steering wheel.

  The
re’s a faint scar on her wrist, that Kade notices when she drives them to school. “Where’s that from?” he asks, pointing.

  “This?” Mom traces her finger over the silvery line.

  Kade has patches on his knees from falling down, but the one on his mom’s wrist looks different, like tooth marks. Did someone bite her? A surge of fury wells in his chest, suddenly.

  “It’s not something to be angry about,” Mom says, a smile twitching at her mouth. “It’s a bonding mark. A gift.”

  “A gift? How can a scar be a gift?”

  “From your dad.” The look in her eyes softens, as though she’s remembering something precious. “He left it as a promise, to protect me no matter what. I gave him one, too.”

  “Oh.” Kade scrunches his face up, trying to imagine his parents biting each other as a promise. It doesn’t seem right. Only animals bite people.

  “Now, this isn’t something you need to know yet,” his mother says, leaning in, her eyes warm. “Most people exchange their bonding oaths when they’re sixteen, or twenty, or some even older than that. Usually, it’s between an alpha and an omega.”

  “What am I?”

  His mom leans back, studying him. “Probably an alpha. You’re still young, so you haven’t presented as either in particular... but you do have a temper.”

  “I do not have a temper!”

  His mother glances at the digital clock on the dashboard. 7:18 AM. “We’ll talk more about this when we get home, okay?”

  Kade sighs, wriggling around in his seat. “Fine. See you later.”

  He slams the car door behind him, then the one his brothers left open, and trudges to the courtyard.

  In the midst of pop quizzes and lab experiments about boiling water, Kade forgets about the conversation in the car. He moves with the river of students through the school, heading to Mr. Thompson’s classroom for English, then the field for P.E., and Mrs. Mulberry’s class for science.

  By the time school’s over, his backpack hangs heavy from his shoulder, full of assignments and books about the alpha wars. His brothers have another two classes before they’re out, so Kade circles the classroom buildings, then the science lab ones, to the playground in the back.

  This play area is half as big as the one by the canteen. Where the popular eighth-graders hang out at the wood-and-metal playground, surrounded by younger kids and clique-wannabes, Kade prefers the quiet of this one, where the outcasts hide away among plastic slides and monkey bars, kicking at the sand.

  He finds Felix at the corner of the playground, sitting by himself amidst a cluster of dunes. Twenty yards off, Felix stands out: thin and pale, with a mop of wispy blond hair. He hunches over, fingers in the sand, building the next dune.

  I found some cool stuff in the science lab today, Kade wants to tell him. Wanna sneak in? Jones is hiding some plants in a cupboard. There’s even a lamp in there!

  Before he thinks further, a handful of boys steps out from behind the slides, their eyes fixed on Felix. Ben sneers, cracking his fists, and next to him, Alex and Tom laugh their high-pitched giggles.

  “Go!” Ben shouts, punching the air. Kade’s stomach drops. He’s seen them lurking in the other playground, shoving around smaller kids, knocking out teeth and leaving bloody noses. Why the hell are they picking on Felix?

  Kade shucks his bag, sprinting over the grass. He’s ten yards away, and they’re surrounding Felix. He runs right into an invisible cloud of faint lavender, like he’s just stepped into a garden, but there’s no time to think.

  He plows through a gap in their ranks, among a flurry of fists and kicking feet, and someone cuffs him in the ear.

  “Fucking get away,” he bellows, swinging his fists. He punches someone in the stomach, and someone else grabs his hair, kicking him behind his knee.

  Kade stumbles, breathing in a lungful of lavender. He throws himself over Felix, and the lavender scent coats his mouth when he gasps. Someone punches his head, a flurry of too many fists. Kade surges up with a roar.

  Behind, Felix cowers, whining softly. Heat bubbles up in Kade’s chest like an overflowing pot. Kade snarls, ramming his forehead into someone’s face, clawing at someone else’s eyes, and Ben scowls at him.

  “What’re you doin’ ‘ere,” he squawks, and Kade slams his fist into his nose. It crunches against his knuckles.

  He’s seen things on TV, practiced these moves in his bedroom. It hurts more than he expects, his fists throbbing, and someone kicks him in the back. Kade stumbles onto Felix, swearing. Then he grabs a handful of sand, flings it in the bullies’ faces, and while they’re distracted, he punches them in the nuts.

  The boys howl, hands on their groins as they stumble away. Kade watches them leave, Felix safe behind him, and adrenaline pumps heady in his veins.

  “Sorry,” Felix mumbles.

  Kade turns, breathing hard, his fists covered in blood. “Why’re you saying sorry?”

  Felix shrugs, ducking his head. Dirty footprints cover his shirt, his arms, and his hair’s all mussed, sand strewn over him.

  On the other side of the playground, kids stare warily at them. The other students play soccer further away on the field. It looks safe right now. No more bullies. So Kade crouches next to Felix, swallowing. “They fucking attacked you.”

  Felix curls his fingers into his arms, shaking. “I thought they might someday. It... it was just a surprise.”

  “Fuck them,” Kade says. The lavender scent is still strong in his nose, and he sits down slowly next to Felix, examining the torn skin on his knuckles. “I’ll beat them again. Bastards.”

  “You didn’t have to,” Felix says. He looks at Kade’s bloody hands, wincing. “I’m sorry you got hurt.”

  “It’s fine,” Kade says. He wipes them off on his clothes, looking at the small cuts on his knuckles. “They hurt you.”

  “I’m okay,” Felix says. He peels back his sleeves, then his shirt hem, looking down at the pink splotches on his stomach.

  Kade reaches out, poking a pink patch gingerly. Felix grimaces. But his skin feels warm against Kade’s fingers, and he smells even more like lavender up close. “What’s with your smell? Broke a shampoo bottle?”

  Felix shrugs. “I don’t know. It just happened during break. Then everyone started looking at me like I was sick. Mrs. Mulberry said I’m blooming early, and I have to tell my father. He’s not coming to pick me up until five.”

  “Huh.” Kade scowls at the shed the bullies disappeared behind. His mom smells like lilacs. His father smells like birchwood, and Kade doesn’t have a smell, himself.

  He thinks about the bullies, and his mom saying He left it as a promise. He watches Felix rub his thumb over his stomach. Then he thinks about the bullies again, coming to attack Felix.

  “They’ve been attacking the people who smell like flowers,” Felix says quietly. “I’ve been watching.”

  It hadn’t even occurred to Kade to notice them. “They can’t do that.”

  Felix shrugs. “I guess I’ll have to get used to it. It’s... it’s not so bad.”

  Felix is his friend. They’ve been talking since last year, ever since they met in art class. How can Felix just resign himself to getting beaten up? How can Kade even let that happen, when Felix is the one he sneaks out of school with, chasing after ice cream vans?

  “I can mark you,” Kade says slowly. “Will that help?”

  Felix’s eyes widen, green as leaves. “Doesn’t that only happen between bonded pairs?”

  “Will they leave you alone if you’re bonded?”

  “I don’t know.”

  They look at the shed again, and Kade thinks about his mother’s scar.

  “I’ll protect you no matter what,” he says. The moment he says it, he knows it’s something he’ll live by. He likes Felix. And so he’ll defend Felix, no matter how difficult it gets. “If you want, I’ll mark you. It better keep those bastards away.”

  Felix looks at his wrist, then the shed. “Okay.” He wipe
s it on the front of his shirt, then extends it to Kade. “I can’t get all the sand off. Maybe I should go to the bathroom first.”

  Kade shrugs; a bit of sand isn’t gross. He takes Felix’s warm, grubby hand in his own, and presses his nose to Felix’s forearm, sniffing along it. The lavender scent fades toward his elbow, and wafts twice as strong at his wrist. It’s the same place his mom has her scar.

  “It’ll hurt,” Kade says. Wounds always do.

  “I’ll be okay.” Felix gives him a wobbly smile. “Ben kicked me in the stomach. That hurt.”

  Kade bares his teeth at that image, heat rushing through his body. No one hurts his friend. And they won’t again. “I promise to protect you.”

  He licks over Felix’s wrist, salty sweat and grains of sand on his tongue. “I’m gonna bite,” Kade says. Felix nods.

  Then he presses his teeth against Felix’s skin. Felix swallows noisily. Kade drags his teeth down. But the skin doesn’t break. His teeth slide against Felix’s wrist, slippery with spit, and he bites down harder.

  Felix’s skin tears. He shudders, and the coppery tang of blood coats Kade’s tongue.

  “Oh,” Felix gasps. He stares at Kade, lips parted, and Kade thinks, again, how pretty he is.

  “You should bite me too,” Kade says, pulling away. Crimson droplets well along the thin lines on Felix’s wrist, and Kade licks them off. “So we’re even.”

  “Okay,” Felix breathes. He takes Kade’s hand and sniffs along it. “How do you know where to bite?”

  Kade looks at the reddish marks he’s left on Felix’s wrist, pointing to the same spot on his own. “You smelled really strong here.”

  Felix sniffs at his wrist, then along his forearm, and back to his wrist. “You smell like something here. I’m not sure what.”

  “Then you should bite there,” Kade says.

  Felix licks over his skin, a light, wet touch. Then his teeth press down, sharp, and he pauses, lifting his mouth away. “I don’t want to hurt you.”