Not Destiny

by N. J. Lysk

  {But...} Tenir gave up on the objection before forming any more signs.

  “Serene knew it would happen, all alphas know. They can feel it when their mate is unhappy or afraid. And since your mum loves you very much, Serene knew she’d be afraid when she couldn’t find you.”

  {It was supposed to be fun,} Mina said, gaze unfocused.

  Uriel couldn’t imagine what to say to that. “You should think about what you want, and about what both your mothers have done,” he said simply. “And then you can decide what you want to happen now, and we can see what they want too.”

  Tenir swallowed and met his eyes, pure unadulterated desperation in his own. {But we can’t stay together?}

  It almost broke his heart, but Uriel shook his head.

  By the time he was done transcribing the conversation, it was too late to call Thomas, and he wasn’t quite sure he could calculate the time differences anyway. He sent a short text wishing him luck on the game instead. Lame, but the best he could do at this point, and Thomas already knew he was a workaholic, didn’t he?

  Chapter Seventeen: Thomas

  Thomas had always particularly relished visiting Toulouse, it was a beautiful city he had been to often, thanks to their team’s success in the league. The sights used to be an excuse to party and drink too much. Now he was just wondering if Uri would have liked any of the wines on the menu at the restaurant they’d been led to after the game was over. A neat, tidy victory—something to be proud of, but Thomas’s heart wasn’t quite up to the jubilant cheers Santiago still let out back at the separate dining hall they’d reserved.

  Keenan startled him when he leaned his elbows on the bar next to him.

  “Come to tell me off about that pass?” Thomas asked. Keenan sometimes couldn’t keep back the feedback, even when it was this obvious. In his favour, at least he didn’t shout about it like Carry would do if you fucked up badly enough.

  He took a sip off his beer, then frowned a little; maybe he should have ordered wine.

  “No, it’s not...” Keenan swallowed, glancing around about as subtly as a bull in a teashop. “I noticed you weren't...” He gestured, and Thomas lost a moment trying to read the sign before he realised Keenan was just letting out some of his nervous energy. “You wanna talk about it?”

  Incoherent as that was, it did clear things up for Thomas. “Carry spoke to you.”

  Keenan’s eyes widened. “Is that okay? I'm sorry if that's not cool. He only—”

  “Oh, shut it, Keenan,” Thomas interrupted, abandoning his drink on the counter and covering his eyes with his hand. “It's not like you couldn't smell it on me anyway.”

  “What?” Keenan asked.

  “That I'm dating an alpha,” Thomas clarified. “I mean, I know I have shown up to practice without showering once or twice.”

  “Thomas...” Keenan sounded amused now. “I don't go around smelling people. And that’s a myth anyway. We don’t actually have super noses; we just translate people’s mental presence into scent, so we can understand it. I had no idea you were dating anyone until you told me.”

  “Oh, I thought...” He’d figured there would be some trace of it on him, something another alpha would pick up on like Thomas would pick up on lipstick on someone’s collar. He took a sip of the beer—he was beginning to feel like the conversation would require something a little more alcoholic. Maybe French whiskey would be good. Scottish whiskey was the standard, right? “Sorry, that was... That was dumb.”

  “It's cool,” Keenan said at once. He bet Carry would have given him a speech worthy of any enraged parent if he’d said it to him, but not Keenan—not even now that he’d turned into a social justice warrior. “You don't have much reason to know about alphas...”

  “Not until now,” Thomas acknowledged, slumping forward. Growing up, he’d known his parents wanted him to present alpha—a part of him had hoped that if he did, they’d forgive him for... that he would be good enough again.

  He was pretty sure his sisters didn’t really remember a time before their parents had become someone to avoid. Or maybe it’d never been that way for Colleen at all, but when he’d been little, his parents had meant the world to him. His dad, for all his obsessive controlling tendencies, had also sang Thomas to sleep, and his father had taught him to play football.

  It was just the things omegas and alphas were meant to do with their children, exactly right or the picture-perfect family his parents had always wanted. But it was also what any parent did with their kid, the way they showed they loved them and taught them about the world.

  Thomas didn’t think it had been an act.

  He didn’t want anyone to be proud of him for something he couldn’t control, but a part of him would have taken the affection even if it had been shallow and only for the parts of his life they could accept.

  But he was twenty-two, and he’d passed the typical presentation age a long time ago, abandoned the fantasy even earlier. Some betas had a weird fascination with alphas and omegas and their wild, untameable instincts—especially heat—but Thomas had always avoided it as much as possible. He didn’t want even more propaganda than he’d already been sold for something he’d never get to have.

  Now he’d apparently taken the rebellion a step further without knowing it; he knew if his dad found out about this, he might even be forbidden from talking to his sisters. And yet... He twirled his beer, watching the foam sway. “But I guess I should find out. I mean, do you think it's pointless?” He stopped but didn’t look up. “Will he... Is he going to leave?”

  He didn’t look at Keenan, but he felt him tense up anyway. “Fuck, Thomas, I don't even know the guy's name! I can't tell you what he'll do.” His centre sounded put off, which Thomas could concede was fair. Nobody had ever asked him what another beta would do.

  “Uriel,” Thomas offered. It was a pretty absurd expectation, he guessed, but then again, Keenan had come because he was an alpha, hadn’t he? “Would you... I don’t know, is there a chance he won’t leave?”

  Keenan sighed, then stole a sip off Thomas’s beer. He looked thoughtful and didn’t seem to notice the odd taste. “I can tell you one thing: if he's never dated an omega, or if he's never been with an omega in heat,” He returned the glass to the counter, “then I think he could stay.”

  “Ugh.” Of-fucking-course it was all about the magical sex lives of bonded pairs. The one thing he would never be able to compete with, no matter how much he practiced his deep-throating skills. “So it’s really all that.”

  Keenan shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “Yes. But it's only one thing. I was...” He glanced around again, and Thomas suddenly wondered who he was worried would overhear them. Their conversation was important to them, sure, but there was no reason for anyone else to care. “I was going to marry my last girlfriend before that. She’s a beta and she’s amazing. We still talk sometimes. But she didn't want to wait around while I did the hockey thing, and she didn't... she didn't believe me when I told her she was enough.”

  His centre was obviously hurt by the assumption, but he had just told Thomas sex with an omega was too wonderful to give up once an alpha tried it. “Was she wrong?”

  “Yes,” Keenan spat. His fist was clenched on the table, and Thomas could feel the weight of his anger—an alpha’s will affected omegas the most, but betas weren’t completely immune. He’d noticed Sven using it to get their attention during practice, the way his voice seemed louder than other sounds, his gaze heavier... But it was the first time he’d noticed it from his linemate. Keenan exhaled, lowering his gaze to his lap. “She was... everything,” he said slowly. “She was the only thing I actually wanted other than hockey. She was worth going home early for, and... she knew how to call me out on my bullshit. The... the sex was great, too. I didn't need more. I was happy until... Sometimes I wish I didn't know. I feel like a junkie. I can't even tell if I want... someone because of them or because we’re compatible.”

  Thomas frowned. That wasn’
t the impression he’d got from Amalia’s infrequent but memorable visits to the ice. Keenan had pretty much staked a claim in public when that reporter had questioned their relationship, and now... “I thought things with Amalia were going well.”

  Keenan was silent for a long, uncomfortable moment, then raised his eyes to Thomas and said way too cheerfully. “Yes! They are. Great. More than!”

  Thomas watched him, almost amused at how bad he was at lying.

  Keenan kept going, slowing down a little but not gaining much in coherency. “But it’s... There’s all this... danger, I guess. It seems much easier to fuck up when you are with someone who needs you to be careful. It’s worth it, it’s so... I’m not complaining. Just...” He licked his lips and with obvious effort, met his eyes again. Thomas reconsidered; maybe he wasn’t lying, maybe it was just hard for him to speak about something like this. “I was happy before, really happy. I would have loved her for the rest of my life, no questions.”

  “But you would have always wondered...” Thomas started to say, thinking about the way his father told the story of leaving his beta wife, of how he’d not been able to stay loyal to her because deep down he’d always known he was meant to be with an omega.

  Keenan didn’t let him finish, though. “Sure, and I also wonder about threesomes. Doesn’t mean I’ll step out to try it.”

  “You know it’s not the same. When you... I mean, if you meet someone compatible, don’t you...” He swallowed. “Don’t you need it?”

  “What?” Keenan exclaimed. “Mate, where are you getting your information? TV dramas?”

  “My parents,” Thomas said simply.

  “Oh.” Keenan’s hesitation this time had probably a lot more to do with politeness than lack of factuality, so Thomas waited him out. “Well, it’s not like that. Scent is interesting and all, I’ll give you that. But even if you are very compatible with someone—”

  “Very compatible?” he checked. He hadn’t even considered that. He knew, in theory, that not all omegas and alphas were compatible and that there were degrees of compatibility. But how compatible was compatible enough to make you... to make it inevitable? “Like a one true pair?”

  Keenan made a dissatisfied noise, probably trying to think of how to explain it in terms a beta could comprehend. “Yeah, maybe. Anyway, even if they smell great... that’s pretty much it. Protocol dictates you’d never touch them, and they’d never touch you. Touching an omega you’re compatible with is... well, pretty intense, but so is touching anyone you find attractive. It’s more... It’s different, but I wouldn’t say it’s better.”

  “But heat is.”

  “Yes,” Keenan said at once, but clearly reluctant. “It’s better sex.”

  “Well, that’s...” Thomas cleared his throat. Better sex seemed pretty important, but as much as he liked sex, he couldn’t imagine abandoning someone you loved because someone else pushed your buttons a little harder. “Is there something else to it?”

  “There’s the morning after, for one,” Keenan said quietly, now was staring straight ahead at the bottles at the back of the bar. It suddenly occurred to Thomas to wonder why the bartender hadn’t approached him. Were they also an alpha or omega and could perceive Keenan wasn’t in the mood? “You go through something like that with someone, and then... Well, it doesn’t mean you have anything, once it’s done. It’s like any one-night stand, only you feel like you have just slept with the love of your life.”

  “Fuck,” Thomas swore. He could almost feel the agony behind the words. “Keenan...” And then the rest of the words cleared in his mind. “Wait, what? A one-night stand? But you guys are still...” He stopped as the pieces slid into place. “You aren’t talking about Amalia, are you?”

  And he wasn’t talking about the girl before that. Thomas had met her, and she’d been a beta. Jessica. Of course, the girl Keenan had been ready to marry. “Wasn’t Jessica the beta girl who broke up with you after we lost the wildcard game with the Cascades last season?”

  “We’re not talking about this,” Keenan said, voice like ice being serrated. It sent a chill up Thomas’s spine, and out of the corner of his eye, he caught the bartender stumbling a little.

  It also made him realise he was being a dick. “Sorry, you’re trying to help; I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “It’s fine,” Keenan said, voice still congested. “You should... you should give Uri a chance. Tell him you know.”

  “I can’t,” Thomas explained. “I looked at his ID.”

  “So? Did he tell you not to?” Keenan asked, which was a pretty dumb question—you didn’t need to be told not to go through people’s things.

  But it wasn’t like Thomas could claim he had a lot more sense. “No, but how am I going to explain that I got bored after he left for work and looked through his wallet?”

  “That’s—” He could almost hear Keenan swallowing the insult—maybe Carry could learn some of this self-control from him. “Why did you?” he asked, very dubiously.

  He sighed. “I dunno, I was bored, he was out. I thought he might need his wallet, and that maybe he’d look a lot less insanely hot on his ID picture and I could tease him about it.”

  Keenan deservedly laughed at him for that, turning towards him a little bit even as his elbows remained firmly planted on the counter, body closed up. “Sorry, but... that’s completely stupid, mate.”

  Thomas shrugged, draining about a quarter of the glass before sliding the pint over to Keenan as a silent apology. “Yeah, well, that’s why he’s the lawyer and I’m the one getting paid to take pucks to the head.”

  “Oh, come off it.” Keenan took a long pull, seemingly enjoying it. “You messed up, it’s not the end of the world. It’s not like most people have secrets this big in their wallets. Like, even cheaters probably bother removing their family instants before going to see their mistresses.”

  “Oh, god,” Thomas groaned, laughing a little. “Now you’re making me sorry I didn’t check all the pockets!”

  “Thomas,” Keenan told him, sitting up and facing him fully. His expression was pained. “He must be afraid you won’t go for it if you know. You realise that, don’t you?”

  He did, of course he did. If he’d been an alpha and hadn’t had to tell anyone... But how were they even meant to be together without Thomas knowing? Did Uri just plan to sleep with him for a while and then drop him? Maybe he did have someone, not someone he was with at the moment—Thomas was hurt, but he didn’t really think Uri was an arsehole—but someone he couldn’t forget. Probably a bleeding heart doing some charity work in the Americas who’d refused the comforts of modern society.

  It could even be a beta, really.

  Except... Uri was taking things so fucking slowly, who the hell did that with someone they were only stringing along for a quick fuck? Even a series of quick fucks? Not that they’d been quick or... Did he imagine they could have a relationship in a void where no one would care about their orientations? “Well, what if I don’t want to go for it?”

  Only after he said it did he remember that Keenan had just told him about a woman he loved leaving him because he was an alpha, because she didn’t trust him to commit to their relationship enough to be worth her time. But Keenan was a bit of a saint because his voice was even when he answered, “Then don’t, but it doesn’t sound like you don’t. Just from here where I’m watching you obsess.”

  Thomas’s sympathy evaporated. “Ugh, shove off!” It wasn’t like he didn’t know he looked like a soppy, woebegone mess. He wasn’t proud of how deep he’d got in such a short time, and he was afraid he couldn’t get out without... But that wasn’t Keenan’s problem, of course. “Thanks for this. It’s... appreciated.”

  “No problem. You good for now?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Take the beer. I need something stronger. And... I need some time to think it through, but... Yeah, you gave me some ideas.”

  “Good, make a list or something like they do in the telenovelas. Wil
l sort you right out!”

  Thomas snorted, then signalled at the bartender. “Cover for me, will you? I’m not up to listening to Santiago sing that hymn he made up.”

  “Sure,” Keenan said, getting to his feet. “Thanks for the drink.”

  He headed off to the dining hall, and Thomas asked for a club sandwich with the whiskey like a responsible adult.

  HE HADN’T BEEN SURE about it, but whatever he’d told Keenan, he wasn’t really one to take his time. If there was a chance of things working out, then the answer seemed pretty simple: he had to ask Uri if he wanted them to work out.

  Even someone who’d tried to avoid details about alphas and omegas knew omegas weren’t meant to sleep with alphas until after they bonded—and Uri was gorgeous, but he was no Don Juan, the odds were indeed in his favour.

  And no matter what, he wasn’t breaking his promise to a bunch of kids that had nothing to do with Uri’s lie. He'd had a game the previous weekend, but when he'd told them about it, he'd pretty much promised he'd be back the week after. Today.

  They’d already been lied to plenty in their lives—most adults convinced themselves children needed to be protected from the truth when what they really wanted to protect was themselves. And even if this adoption centre was alright like Uri had said, it was still rough not to have a definite home, adults who were there because they wanted to be and not because the government was paying their salaries.

  Without going into what had happened before they’d arrived there, which Thomas didn’t want to speculate about but couldn’t help but see in the wariness with which they still watched him. He wanted, he realised, to see that caution gone, to get a grin like the one Kyeran had given him the other day in the kitchen every time he showed up. Maybe it was nuts to just decide on a long-term commitment like that on a whim, but he already knew he was good at showing up at concerts and graduation ceremonies, didn’t he? These kids weren’t his sisters, but then again, for all his parents lacked in warmth and understanding, they would provide every one of their children with the best chances money and connections could buy. And anyway, the whole point of adoption centres was that family wasn’t in the blood, but in the people you choose to spend your time with.