Slow Heat

by Leta Blake

  “Xan…” They were never going to start up again. He didn’t know how to be clearer without ruining the tentative peace they’d made.

  “I know, I know. I need to stop pressuring you. You don’t feel what you don’t feel.” A group of alphas from their school filed in, enlivening the coffee shop with noise and raw energy. “Shit, do you want to go? This conversation isn’t going to be private for long.”

  “Look who it is,” Wilbet Monhundy’s voice rang out over the group lined up to order their lattes and mochaccinos. “Sabel, how’s it hanging, buddy? How’s your slutty omega doing? Sucking your cock and taking your knot yet?”

  Jason gritted his teeth. “Ignore him,” he whispered to Xan. “He’s not worth it.”

  Monhundy and two of his friends, guys Jason had never bothered to learn the names of, broke free from the line and headed over to their table. Smirks and nastiness were screwed firmly on their faces.

  “So are you gonna be in class at all this week, Sabel?” Monhundy drew up behind Jason, putting his hands on Jason’s shoulders and rubbing like they were old pals. “Or will you be too busy screwing your nasty, used-up omega?”

  Jason’s fists clenched and he stood up. “Say that again.”

  “Yeah, say that again, asshole,” Xan said, popping up, too, and getting in Monhundy’s face.

  “Aw, Jason, do you need your widdle pal here to protect your widdle feelings?” Monhundy laughed, but then his eyes grew beady and small, his lips drawing into a sneer. “Maybe the rumors are true then, yeah? I hear he’s unmanned and you’re the one who did it.”

  Xan growled and threw himself at Monhundy. He landed a solid punch, but it wasn’t anything for solid Monhundy to grab small Xan and toss him against the table, spilling their drinks everywhere. Jason launched in to the fray, ready to fight, when a fist knocked his jaw, and the room went wobbly and dark. He fell to the floor next to Xan, pain radiating through his face, and his mind spinning.

  Monhundy loomed over them, a foul grin on his face. “Let’s stomp these unmanned bastards,” he said over his shoulder to his brutish-looking pals.

  “Hey, hey, no fighting!” Garth, the muscular beta owner of the coffee shop, flew out from behind the counter with a wet towel over his shoulder. He snapped it at Monhundy, thwacking his exposed forearm hard. Garth’s dark red hair was a curly mess, and his red cheeks shone with irritation.

  Jason struggled up from the ground, the floor unsteady beneath his feet. He pulled Xan up, too, and then regretted it when he had to hold Xan’s arms to keep him from flying at Monhundy again.

  “Take it back,” Xan yelled. “Say whatever you want about me, but take it back about Jason!”

  Monhundy laughed and said, “Hear that? He’s as good as admitted it.”

  “Fuck you, I’m gonna kill you,” Xan snarled, rearing against Jason’s hold.

  “Stop!” Garth clapped his hands in Xan’s face. “Stand down, boy.” Then Garth turned to Monhundy and his crew. “Get out. All five of you. And don’t come back until you’ve grown some manners to go with your alpha posturing.” He hunched his shoulders and flexed his arms, mimicking Monhundy’s size and strength. Straightening, he poked his finger at Monhundy’s chest fearlessly. “Don’t make me call the police on you entitled alpha brats.”

  Monhundy and his clownish friends jeered and laughed, but apparently took Garth at his word. The courts, no matter how much money their father had, looked down on adolescent alphas harassing beta storeowners. So Monhundy and his friends vacated quickly, calling insults over their shoulders.

  Monhundy, of course, had to get the last word. He shouted at Xan, “Unmanned alphas don’t belong at Mont Nessadare. Better find a new school to prepare you for your upcoming career sucking alpha dick on a street corner for a nickel. Maybe Mont Juror will take you.”

  Xan snarled, but he’d given up trying to get free of Jason’s hold.

  “You boys all right?” Garth asked once Monhundy had gone. He looked them up and down carefully. “You come in here all the time and never cause problems. But as soon as these jerks turn up, suddenly there’s trouble. You’re not the first young alphas he’s picked a fight with recently. I’m considering banning him.”

  “We’re fine,” Jason said, but Xan was trembling with rage, wordless and pale, his blue eyes trained on Monhundy’s exiting back with a loathing Jason had never seen in him before. “Right, Xan?”

  “Fine,” he gritted out. “Just jolly, thanks.”

  Garth raised a brow at Jason and said, “You can both stay if you want to clean up the mess. Or you can go and leave it to me.”

  “We’ll clean up.” Jason didn’t know if Monhundy and his pals might be waiting to continue the brawl in the street, and he was in no hurry to engage them again.

  “No, let’s go,” Xan said, grabbing Jason’s arm and pulling him with his surprising strength. “Sorry, Garth. I need some air.”

  Xan tugged him out the side door and onto a back street that led away from where Monhundy and his crew had headed. “That was rude. Garth’s always good to us. We should have stayed to help him.”

  “I don’t care. I had to get out of there.” Xan set off toward the piers. “I hate Monhundy. I hate him so much. And I hate myself. I hate everyone.” He darted a glance at Jason. “Except you. I just wish I could hate you.”

  Jason didn’t know what to say. ‘Me too’, didn’t seem quite the right response, but he did wish that whatever Xan felt for him was a lot less complicated and scary. But he couldn’t change that any more than he could change what Vale had done in his past and what he’d said to him in his room. He just didn’t know how to accept it yet, either.

  He followed Xan down to the warf, vaguely aware that though he’d initially gone to Xan for comfort, now he was in the position of needing to comfort Xan. It wasn’t an uncommon development between them, and so long as he couldn’t be completely honest about the situation with Vale, maybe it was for the best.

  The water at the wharf was briny and thick with oil on the surface. While they watched, ships came and went. One even docked at the pier used by Jason’s father’s company for shipping engine parts. He and Xan found a good vantage point out of the way, and watched a mixed work group of betas unload boxes from the cargo holds.

  “What are you going to do about school now that Monhundy’s targeting you?” Jason asked, when he thought it was safe.

  Xan blew out a long breath and shrugged. “Without you around, I’m destined to flunk out anyway. I’d already decided to ask Father if I can start an early apprenticeship at his firm. It’d look better for him if I graduated, of course, but it’s not like I need any special education to do his job. He’s just a figurehead and that’s all I’ll need to be, too. I’ll smile, cut ribbons at the groundbreakings for new building projects, and let Ray do all the hard work.”

  “Really? Ray?”

  “He’s a beta, but he’s the one who got all the brains in the family. I’m a complete dud.” Xan gave a sugary fake smile. “In every single way.”

  Xan’s father and pater had been happy when Xan presented as an alpha since their older son, Ray, had been a beta, and their third son had died from a childhood illness. Xan had been their bright light, their great hope.

  In some ways, Jason thought Xan had more pressure on his shoulders than Jason did as an only child. At least Jason had a good relationship with both his parents. But Xan’s father was cold and demanding, critical and harsh. He’d told Xan in no uncertain terms that he was expected to bring at least four live births into the world, and that two of them must be alphas to make up for Xan’s pater’s poor showing in that regard. Omegas were fine, as well, but betas would be unacceptable.

  “Do you think your father will let you take on an apprenticeship?” He knew he should encourage Xan to stay in school, to get his education, but he didn’t know how Xan would survive if Monhundy decided to target him. “Isn’t there another way to prove you’re not unmanned?”

 
“I am unmanned, idiot. Get used to it. I have.” He turned into the salty breeze. “I can study at home. I don’t need to put up with jerkwads like Monhundy to get an education. I can hire tutors. I can do whatever I want. The entire point of university was to be with you, anyway.” He shrugged. “And that’s over.”

  “Maybe not, since Vale won’t contract with me.”

  Xan rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous. He’s your Érosgápe. He’ll do what you tell him to do.” He huffed irritably. “You were probably too nice to him. Did you tell him he to sign the paper? No? Well, no wonder he left. Get a grip, Jason. You’re the alpha. You’re in charge, remember?”

  “It doesn’t feel that way.” And how could he ever shake the images Vale had conjured up in his descriptive confession? How was he ever going to stop seeing Vale being fucked by hordes of men and then aborting the evidence? How was he ever going to unknow that the reason they were childless was because Vale had wanted to go to the shore without accommodating his heat?

  He’d promised his pater he’d never hold Vale’s past against him, and he didn’t—not really—but he couldn’t quite put it away. Vale’s past impacted their future in ways Jason wasn’t ready to accept.

  “When I have an omega…” Xan trailed off.

  “Yeah?”

  “Wolf-god, I don’t fucking want an omega.” He groaned. “I’d do anything to be in Vale’s shoes. He’s an idiot. I hate him. It’s official: he’s lumped in with everyone who isn’t you in my giant pile of people I hate.”

  “If I shoved you off this pier, you’d hate me. That could fix everything.”

  Xan laughed. “Oh, like you would.”

  With some effort, Jason grabbed him around the waist and hauled him toward the railing, hefting him up—Xan was surprisingly heavy for someone so small—and acted like he was going to toss him over. Laughter burbled up from his chest as Xan squirmed and kicked, screeching in outrage. It surprised him. He hadn’t thought it was possible to laugh ever again.

  Speaking of surprises…

  He put Xan back on his feet and tolerated several of his irritated, retaliatory shoves before saying, “So, Pater is pregnant.”

  “What?” Xan’s brows dropped. “I thought he couldn’t or something. Since he hadn’t in so long?”

  “He’s not supposed to. It’s risky for him. He might die.”

  Xan’s face twisted up. “Fuck, that’s messed up. Your omega dumps you and your pater’s gonna die? This is terrible. Jason, I think we need to go get drunk. I don’t know how else to deal with all this. Do you?”

  Jason laughed again. Xan’s honest sincerity always had a way of pulling him out of the blue. He’d just never been this deep into it before. “Get drunk, huh?” He rubbed at the bruise forming on his jaw. “I could go for that. Where?”

  “This way.” Xan tugged Jason’s hand and pulled him down the pier toward the street again. “Hollander’s Haven. Gin for cheap. They don’t check ID.”

  “We’re old enough.” Though just barely.

  Xan shrugged. “Don’t kill the thrill, all right? Just follow me and do what I say. You won’t regret it. I promise.”

  Vale didn’t know why he even bothered writing poetry. It was dreck. All dreck. Every single word was dreck, dreck, dreck.

  And his skin burned. Relentlessly, horribly.

  He knew what that meant. He didn’t have three more days, or two days, or one day. He had no more days. This was it. His heat was here, and it was only a matter of hours before he’d be screaming and writhing, and—if not held back—bolting for the Bowery and any alphas he could find there.

  He needed a plan. Which was why he’d called Rosen.

  He scratched at his arms and rocked back and forth. Yes, Rosen. Who’d hopefully be here any minute, because he didn’t know how much longer until the first wave hit. He threw his pen down on his desk and stared out the windows to the garden. Jason’s garden. In his mind, it would never be anything else now. Before, it had been Pater’s and now it was Jason’s, and he’d see it every day and yearn. How stupid had he been to allow it?

  “Vale?” Rosen’s voice was a relief and an irritant at once.

  Despite everything, despite saying exactly what he knew would work to drive Jason away, he’d held out a horrible hope that his baby alpha would appear outside the window, forgive him everything, declare the idea of all offspring anathema, climb through, and fuck him senseless on the study floor.

  But that wasn’t going to happen. Not today. Not ever.

  Instead, he had Rosen in his house, arms laden with groceries, and that was as good as it was going to get. He’d be all right. He’d be wonderful even. Eventually. Never.

  “I’m going to call Urho,” Rosen said, dumping the groceries on Vale’s desk and approaching with alarm in his eyes. “You can’t do this alone. I won’t let you. I won’t go through that again and neither will you.”

  “No!” Vale shook his head desperately. “Don’t call Urho. I don’t want him. I won’t consent. Don’t.”

  “You’re so close,” Rosen said, sliding his cool fingers down Vale’s cheek above his beard. “You’re burning up.”

  “Do not call Urho,” Vale repeated. “Promise me.”

  Rosen’s jaw clenched and unclenched. “I won’t promise.”

  “Yes!”

  “I will not tie you to a bed and watch you suffer!”

  “The basement,” Vale said, nodding toward the hallway. “It will hold me. You won’t need to tie me down.”

  “No. No way.”

  “It’s perfect. There’s water from the deep sink down there. And I’ve created a cozy nest with bedclothes and towels. If you lock me in and don’t let me out, I’ll be fine.”

  “There are spiders and ten years’ worth of god-knows-what down there. And it’s an unfinished basement, Vale! You should be in a comfortable bed, obeying nature, and submitting to the bliss of a rut. If you don’t want Urho, let me call Jason.”

  “No!” Vale shuddered and scratched at his arms again. “If you’re not going to help me then go.”

  Rosen’s expression softened, and he tenderly stroked Vale’s cheek. “I am helping you. This is what friends do. They help. Even when the other person is being a perfect idiot.”

  “I will not have Urho. I will not.”

  Rosen nodded slowly. “I understand.” His eyes went thoughtful and then he drew Vale close. “The basement?”

  “Yes. The basement.”

  “And if I were to bring Jason?”

  “I would hate you forever.”

  Rosen hummed softly.

  “What?”

  “That’s not a no, then. You’d consent.”

  “Fuck you and your loopholes,” Vale snarled. “Oh, fuck. It’s coming. Hold me through it. Please.”

  Rosen’s grip wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough when the heat came. Only an alpha could satisfy his body’s needs. He writhed and cried out, the burning wave cresting inside him, breaking over and over again, until he was sweating and wailing, begging to be fucked.

  “Shh,” Rosen whispered in his ear, rocking him through it. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

  Vale clung to him, whimpering. And when he finally came out the other side of the first wave, he was alone in the basement, rocking on his hands and knees, ass in the air, crying for Jason.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Jason did regret going to Hollander’s Haven with Xan. He regretted it very much.

  He’d thrown up twice on the walk home, and he barely remembered dropping Xan off at his parents’ house. He’d almost think he’d dreamed it, except he’d never dream of Xan’s pater’s horrified face when he saw the sick all over Xan’s sweater. Or would he? No, he wouldn’t. It’d been too hilarious. Or at least he’d thought so at the time. Now that he was sobering up, he felt a little bad about laughing.

  He slunk up the stairs, head down, and hoped beyond hope neither of his parents would materialize and demand answers from him. He ha
dn’t seen them since yesterday, before he’d gone out to get the refreshments for the negotiation that’d never happened.

  After Vale had left his room, he’d locked himself in and refused to come out. While his parents had called to him from outside the door, he’d cried in his bed, holding the shirt he’d stuffed under his pillow. It’d been pathetic and sad, and he considered a repeat of it all now, but first he climbed into the shower.

  He’d wondered where his parents were that morning over breakfast, but he’d just been grateful not to have to talk or see their sympathetic faces. Especially when he knew damn well Father, at least, had wanted this outcome from the beginning.

  He turned on the hot water in the shower, leaned over the toilet, and puked again. Hopefully that would be the last of it. If the nausea stopped, he swore to wolf-god he’d never drink gin again.

  Washing away the nasty sweat from his body and gargling the liquor taste out of his mouth, he scrubbed up quickly. After he brushed his hair and teeth, he got dressed again. Soft trousers and a loose, gray t-shirt he could lounge around in while he stewed in his misery.

  Downstairs, on his way to get a glass of coconut water to rehydrate, he found a note on the front table.

  Jason,

  I’m going to the shipping yards to check on a delivery. Pater is sleeping in the conservatory. Don’t disturb him. He needs his rest. There are ribs thawing on the counter. Make something decent for dinner. And don’t worry, son. We’ll fix this. We’ll fix everything for you.

  All my love, Father

  Jason headed toward the kitchen to get started on dinner, but he paused by the mirror across from Father’s study to examine the bruise blooming on his jaw. It was red and already shading toward blue. If it’d been much higher, it would have been on his cheekbone, and he might have gotten a black eye. As it was, it’d probably be healed up in a day or two and no one would be the wiser.

  Except Monhundy would undoubtedly tell everyone at school. The jackass. Someday, someone was going to teach that jerk a lesson, and Jason just hoped he was around when they did.