Slow Heat

by Leta Blake

  “It was holy,” Pater snapped.

  “Yes. But we were a good match. Appropriate. From comparable families. We were the same age. You had all the markings of a good breeder—”

  “And if I hadn’t? If I’d been like this man…” Pater sucked in a breath of smoke and poured it out. “If I’d refused to contract for a live birth from the start?”

  “You wouldn’t have done that. You wanted to be with me too much!”

  “I didn’t have any idea then that I couldn’t carry! If I had, well, you might not like to hear what I might have chosen. If I hadn’t contracted with you, I could have lived well on the allowance, continued with my music, played in the symphony, and never suffered all these losses!”

  Silence fell hard. Jason shuddered at the chill. Father turned green as though he might throw up. “Are you saying you regret being Érosgápe?”

  “Of course not. I’m saying think of all we’ve been through!”

  “It’s not the same!”

  “It is!” Pater got up from the table, pacing away from Father and back again. In his long fingers, the cigarette shook. “You have no idea what it’s like growing up an omega, spending your whole life knowing that you’re going to be claimed by someone, taken over body, soul, and possessions.” He took a puff from the cigarette, waving away Father’s attempt to interrupt. Smoke followed him. “No amount of fairytale spinning from parents, teachers, and books can take that terror away. The uncertainty this man has lived with his whole life? The heats he’s suffered through?”

  “Oh, he fully admits he hasn’t suffered—”

  Pater growled, and Father backtracked immediately. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “You did. You meant it exactly that way,” Pater said coldly, freezing in place and staring Father down. “I’m ashamed of you.”

  Father paled. “Miner, please. I didn’t…I’m sorry.”

  “If you wish that man had even one heat without help, Wolf-god save you, Yule.”

  “Miner, I swear to all that’s holy I didn’t mean it that way.” He reached out in remorse. “Forgive me.”

  Pater glared at Father until he lowered his gaze and ducked his head. Then he turned to Jason, pointing at him with his cigarette. “Remember this. This is the power he’ll have over you. You may hold the assets, the legal rights, and be able to subjugate him during sex, but you’ll never be satisfied a moment in your life if he’s not happy. Do you trust him enough for that?”

  Jason felt a trickle of sweat slide down his temple. He wanted to trust Vale. The idea of crawling to him, begging for his forgiveness didn’t horrify him the way it should. He’d do it happily if it meant Vale was his.

  Pater touched Father’s shoulder. “Chin up.” When Father met his eyes, he said softly, “I’ll consider accepting your apology when you’ve made me believe you hold this man in the esteem he deserves as a human being.”

  Father groaned and covered his hands with his face. “Miner, you’re killing me.”

  Pater flicked a glance to Jason but then returned his full focus to Father. He stabbed his cigarette out before taking hold of Father’s chin and whispering, “Nothing you say here today is going to change the outcome of anything. Do you understand me?”

  Father shoulders curved. He tugged his chin out of Pater’s grasp and rubbed a hand through his hair.

  At that moment, the door opened from the hall and Vale entered, his face red above his beard, and his eyes wary. Seeing the attorneys gone, he raised a brow at Jason and then asked, “Am I interrupting? Should I go again?”

  “No,” Jason said quickly. “We’re ready. Aren’t we, Father?”

  Father took hold of Pater’s free hand and kissed his fingers gently. “We are. If you’ll have a seat, Vale, I’ll get Yosef and Bisme. We’ll leave aside the discussion of births for now.” He rose and paused before opening the door to the kitchen. “When I return, we’ll begin with the next item on the agenda. The plan for your assets.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Vale’s head throbbed.

  He’d refused Yosef’s offer for company the night before and drowned out the awfulness of the negotiations by consuming half a tumbler of gin. Now he felt like his nerves were on the outside of his skin, and his miniscule breakfast threatened to crawl out of his mouth.

  Gingerly, he sipped tea and leaned back in his desk chair. The late-autumn sun filtered in through the windows as he watched a bird pick at lingering mulberries on the tree near the back of the garden.

  Zephyr was curled in his lap, kneading the smooth material of his robe and pajama bottoms, putting needle-like pricks in the fabric. He didn’t care. The allowance the Sabels would give him would buy him a dozen of these robes a week if he wanted. But that didn’t quell his anxiety about the future or the magnitude of what signing the contract, or not, would mean for his life.

  Poor Jason. He hadn’t known what to make of the tension in the room. His was a good heart and he clearly wanted what was best for Vale even at the expense of his own desires. He must get that generosity from his pater, because his father certainly didn’t share it.

  Vale had wanted to strangle Yule Sabel’s handsome neck when he’d tried to insist on a live birth with so much sanctimoniousness. As if he wasn’t a monster knocking up his omega every heat and forcing him to endure the loss of it! As if he had any moral standing at all! He rubbed his temples and glared out the window at the cleared-out garden. Who did the man think he was asking Vale to risk his life for the sake of passing on his callous genes?

  Zephyr stopped kneading, her ears perking up, and a meow wrenched from her throat as she bolted from his lap and out the door into the hallway heading for the kitchen. Vale hoped he’d put food out for her when he woke but couldn’t remember now. His brain was packed with itchy cotton balls of irritable rage. She’d screech if there wasn’t anything in her bowl when she got there.

  He rested his head against the back of his chair, paper strewn over his desk with unfinished poems he’d started the night before when he was drunk off his ass. Not a one was any good. They were all about Jason, and that was the worst thing they could be about. Because he didn’t want anyone to know how the thought of not being with the boy made him feel like he was being sliced to ribbons inside. He hadn’t eaten anything solid for dinner the night before, and his stomach rebelled against tea, even.

  He rubbed sleep from his eyes and sat up straighter, grabbing all the paper from his desk and shoving it into an overstuffed drawer without looking at what he’d written. There might be something good to salvage later when he wasn’t so raw about it all.

  His mind slipped back to the negotiations the day before. He wasn’t sure what had happened when he left the room to clean up the annoying slick that continued to plague him whenever Jason asserted himself in any way, shape, or form, but the atmosphere had changed when he came back. Not necessarily for the better, but not for the worse, either. They’d discussed the properties dispassionately—Vale refusing to give up his home and Jason backing him. Then he agreed to allow them to fix up the cabin his parents had left to him. They could decide to sell or keep it once that was done.

  But beneath it all, despite the progress made, he’d felt the current of truth pulling him farther and farther away from a signed contract.

  When it was over, they’d attempted to give him details for when he should arrive tonight for Feast of the Expectant Wolf, but he’d cut Miner short, saying, “I don’t feel it’s appropriate to share such an important feast when the negotiations are still so unsettled. It’s intended for family members as a celebration of new life and family is something I might never be.”

  Jason had looked gutted, but he hadn’t protested.

  The phone on Vale’s desk had rung several times last night while he’d been scribbling furiously and gargling mouthfuls of gin. He hadn’t answered it. He knew who it was. But what would he tell the boy? “I’ve led you on. I’ve let you think…”

 
Wolf-god, he couldn’t even complete the sentence in his own mind. Not even in the light of morning with a thundering headache proving he was sober. He wanted Jason so much, wanted desperately to contract with him, and yet…

  A tap on his window startled him and his head jerked up. His heart somersaulted. He swallowed hard and rose slowly to go unfasten the lock and raise the sash.

  “Hi.” Jason pushed his hair out of his eyes. They were swollen and he didn’t look like he’d slept all night. The cold breeze flowed into the room, chilling Vale through his pajama bottoms and robe.

  “You should learn to use a phone.” Vale crossed his arms over his chest.

  “You should learn to answer one,” Jason shot back.

  Vale’s cock rushed with blood, and he groaned as he fought to keep from getting an erection. Simultaneously, his asshole grew wet. “Fuck,” he whispered. “This has to stop.”

  Jason’s nostrils flared, but he said nothing.

  “When someone doesn’t pick up the phone, it usually means they want to be alone,” Vale went on. “It doesn’t mean come to their house and harass them.”

  “I’m here to let you know that Mox and the other betas will be here in an hour. We’re working in the back again today like we planned. I’m sorry I bothered you.” He stepped back from the window and headed out into the garden, where he picked up a shovel and started to chop through a matted mass of weeds.

  Vale shivered in the breeze and lifted his hand to shut the window, but stopped. He could smell Jason’s sadness, taste it in his mouth, and it hurt him deep inside like a thorn twisting in his gut. “Come here,” he called out, leaning through the window. “Jason, please, come here.”

  Jason threw the shovel down and trudged over with a sullen expression. Vale hadn’t ever seen his baby alpha looking so dispirited and it was all his fault. “I’m sorry I’m being unkind to you this morning. You don’t deserve it. I’m a bit hungover.”

  And confused. And scared.

  “What about ignoring my calls last night?”

  “You didn’t deserve that, either.”

  “What’s wrong,” Jason asked, stepping close with his hands out beseechingly. “What did I do? Was it the kitchen? Do you want me to apologize for that?”

  Vale’s throat grew tight. “No, it wasn’t anything you did at all.”

  It’s what I did years ago. It’s what you deserve that I can’t give you. It’s that I like you, Jason, and you deserve the best. And that’s not me.

  Vale chewed on his cheek to keep the words inside.

  “Talk to me. What went wrong between when we were together in the kitchen and yesterday when you showed up for negotiations? Was it my father’s attitude? Pater took care of him.”

  Vale’s heart skipped. “It does have a great deal to do with your father. But it also has to do with me.”

  Jason gazed at him warily; his eyes looked bruised. Had he cried during the night? Wolf-god, help him if he made this boy cry and he hadn’t even told him the truth yet. He needed to confess the full reason why Jason should look for a surrogate. Jason deserved a better omega. That Vale knew for sure.

  “Your father and your pater…” He rubbed at his aching head. Why had he nearly drained the tumbler? He could barely think.

  “What about them?”

  “I heard from a source, a discreet source, that your pater regularly uses…” he broke off. “Oh, for wolf’s sake, you can’t stand out there looking at me like that. Come around to the kitchen. We’ll talk. But that’s it. Nothing else.”

  His asshole quivered and he gritted his teeth. Nothing else, he repeated silently.

  Jason nodded and turned without a word toward the kitchen. When Vale reached the door, Jason was already removing his shoes.

  “They’re not muddy yet,” Vale pointed out. “You could wear them in.”

  Jason shrugged. “They’re dirty enough.”

  Vale glanced over his shoulder at the dishes piled in the sink and the mess of kibble Zephyr had left on the floor. “It wouldn’t matter.”

  Jason moved past him into the kitchen, his socks on inside-out from what Vale could tell. He hovered by the table, waiting to be invited to sit, and Vale motioned for him to do so and then grabbed the last clean teacup from the cabinet and poured the dregs from his teapot into it.

  He handed it to Jason as he sat down next to him. It was probably too close to be wise, but he needed the closeness for comfort almost as much as Jason did.

  Jason put the cup on the table without tasting it. “Thanks,” he said, quietly. “So you heard something about my parents that you don’t like?”

  Vale swallowed. “I don’t know how I feel about it, actually.”

  Jason waited, his perfect lips trembling, but otherwise he kept his expression neutral.

  Vale summoned courage and spit it out. “Does your father impregnate your pater even knowing he can’t carry to term? And then does he require your pater to use illegal abortifacient drugs to dispose of the baby?”

  There. He’d said it. Now for Jason’s reaction.

  Jason hunched over the teacup, closing his eyes. “Yes. But it’s not what you’re thinking.”

  “What is it then? And how do you know what I’m thinking?”

  Jason covered his face. “You think my father is a cruel alpha who cares more for his own pleasure than my pater’s health.”

  Vale didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

  Jason met his gaze and whispered, “My father would give his life for Pater. It’s not like that at all.”

  “Then why doesn’t he use condoms to protect him?”

  “Pater is severely allergic to the government supplies and the alternatives are…” He spread his hands and shook his head.

  The government’s position on condoms was touch and go. They supplied them only because the outcry was too great when they didn’t allow any at all. And they’d cracked down on what they called ‘less safe’ condoms over the last half-decade especially.

  The ones they provided were made with a protein known to be problematic for many omegas, though he’d never had an issue, thankfully. And Urho reported that they dulled sensation significantly, especially during knotting. Of course, the government was much more invested in ensuring reproduction between legally contracted pairs than family planning. They didn’t want condoms to be safe or pleasurable. They wanted their use to be rare.

  “I see.”

  “Did you really think Father didn’t care enough about Pater to protect him? That he’d impregnate him against his will?” His eyes filled with tears. “That he’d try to make me do the same to you? And that I would?”

  Vale swallowed. “It had crossed my mind. Yes.”

  “I’d rather die than hurt you.”

  “Your death would hurt me,” Vale whispered. “Irreparably.”

  Which was true but also said way too much about how far their bond had come already and the danger they were both in now. He had to come clean soon. He had to tell Jason the truth about his past. Then Jason would opt to take a surrogate—no matter how much Vale wanted him—no matter how sweet a game they’d been playing.

  The doorbell rang, and Jason started. “That’ll be Mox.”

  “He’s early.”

  “He probably thought he’d beat me here.” Jason headed toward the kitchen door. “Tell them I’m out back.” With his hand on the doorknob, he said quietly but with an authority that made Vale’s knees weak, “This isn’t over. You will talk to me and we will fix this.”

  Jason walked out the door and shut it firmly behind him.

  Vale wanted to go drag Jason back, fall to his knees, and tell him the truth about his past. He wanted to feel washed clean by Jason’s unconditional acceptance and love. Then he wanted to suck Jason’s cock in desperate gratitude, and present himself to be fucked. When Jason pressed into him, the shame over his past would finally evaporate. He’d be safe and loved. Whole and complete with his alpha, the way he was meant to be.
His legs shook as his omega glands released a wealth of slick.

  At least he hadn’t showered yet.

  After opening the front door to direct Mox and the crew to the back of the house, he went up to his room. Passing Zephyr sleeping in the center of his bed, he turned into his bathroom and stripped off. His body felt feverish from the hangover and he let the shower run cooler than usual to siphon away some of the heat.

  Then he dried himself, brushed his teeth and hair, and slipped on a soft pair of loose pants and an old t-shirt. He climbed onto the bed by Zephyr, trying not to disturb her, and stared at the window over the back yard. The view was of tree limbs and a wide, blue sky. He couldn’t see Jason and the betas out there working, but he felt him there.

  Even though they were at odds, knowing Jason was outside his window working for him made him feel safe.

  Tender.

  His alpha wanted to make things good for him, make things right. Never mind that he had all the doubts in the universe clogging up his brain and heart. Right now, Jason was taking care of him. He’d never had that comfort in his adult life before. He’d always been alone. But for now he wasn’t. He wrapped the feeling around himself like a blanket.

  When the work songs began and he heard Jason’s sweet baritone lifting with the rest, it was easy to drift off to sleep.

  “Shouldn’t your omega be watching you woo him?” Mox asked, shooting a sly grin Jason’s way before nodding toward the obviously empty study.

  “He’s got other things to do, I guess,” Jason murmured, darting a glance at the house.

  “Trouble in paradise already?”

  Jason glared at Mox and that shut him up pretty quickly. They’d managed to clear out everything they needed to get rid of and now they just had to trundle off the wheelbarrows and dump them in the truck before they could get to planting the bulbs and bushes Mox had brought.

  As they pushed the wheelbarrows through the side yard and into the front, Jason froze. Urho stood on the walk halfway to the house, brows lifted in confusion and surprise. He wore a jaunty bowtie that made Jason think of Xan.