by Noah Harris
A month into their carefully crafted peace, Christopher notices pieces of his clothing going missing. He ends up finding them stuffed into the nooks and crannies of Timothy's nest, and his heart soars, chest tightening with joy and anticipation.
The nest already smelled of both of them, his own scent clinging to the blankets, pillows, and from being within his own home. But adding his clothes further intensifies how his own alpha scent permeates the omega's nest, mixing the two of their scents together.
Christopher doesn't call attention to it. He lets Timothy continue to steal his clothes and pretends he doesn't notice. But he's preening inside. His wolf is proud that his scent makes his mate feel safe, especially after everything they've gone through.
It's almost two months after Timothy moved in, on a lazy Sunday afternoon, when something strange happens.
They're hanging around the living room, Timothy reading and Christopher flipping through the channels on the TV, when Timothy abruptly drops his book. His back goes ramrod straight as his head snaps up, turning toward a random direction. His eyes are distant and glazed, yet sharp and calculating. He doesn't seem to be seeing Christopher's home, but past it.
Then he stands, setting his glasses aside as he moves toward the door with purpose.
"What's wrong?" Christopher asks, already on his feet and following, on edge from the suddenness of it all.
"I don't know," Timothy says, brows furrowed. His eyes are sharp, but unfocused, trying to figure it out himself. "But something has…shifted. Something's wrong."
Before Christopher can question him further, the door is open and Timothy is shifting. He darts away as soon as he's in his wolf form, leaving Christopher to rush through his own change and chase after him.
Finding Timothy is easy enough. His scent is a beacon to Christopher, and despite the fact that he's sprinting as fast as he can, he's not nearly as fast as the alpha. Christopher follows him as he darts down the street, streaking out past the main gates of the military base, much to the confusion of those on watch. They don't try to stop him, especially when Christopher goes sprinting past them on his tail.
He doesn't try to stop Timothy, trailing after him instead. He has far sharper senses than the omega, and yet he hasn't been able to detect anything. Not by sight, sound, or scent. Yet Timothy trots along, determined and fierce, even after he begins to tire. He moves like he's on a mission, with that single-minded intense focus. It intrigues Christopher.
He doesn't stop until they're a good mile outside the base. He stops at a seemingly random tree, shifting back into his human form before crouching down. Christopher shifts back himself, ignoring the pain searing through his muscles and the crack of his bones as he watches Timothy stand, a bird's nest cradled gently in his hands. There are chicks there, carefully put back into their crafted home. Timothy goes up on his toes, putting the bird's nest back into the snug crook of a tree branch.
When he turns to face Christopher, he looks just as confused as he feels, but there's a small smile on his lips and a pride in his eyes that looks good on him.
"Does this kind of thing happen often?" Christopher asks on their way back home.
Timothy shakes his head. There's a confused pinch to his brows. "No, not often, but…I think it happened once before."
"When?"
Timothy wraps his arms around himself, cradling his swollen belly as they walk the road back to the base. His eyes are on the path in front of them, distant. "When I decided to help the farmers in the case I'm working on. I was drawn to them, but I don't know why. I just knew I needed to help them, no matter what. Like it was physically painful for me not to."
Christopher hums thoughtfully as he says, "You may not have the best eyesight, or stamina, or physical strength." He can see Timothy shrinking at his side, frown forming. He smiles as he continues, lightly bumping his shoulder against Timothy's. "But I wonder if you have another kind of sense. A sixth sense that lets you know when people need you. A need to help people."
But Timothy is already shaking his head. "But I was still taking the wolfsbane when I felt the need to help the farmers."
"My wolf broke through my wolfsbane poisoning when I was young," he reminds him. "It's not impossible for our wolves to overcome it."
Timothy looks up at him, doubtful but eyes wide and full of a new ember of hope. "Do you really think my wolf is strong enough to do that?"
Christopher wraps his arm around Timothy's shoulders, pulling him close. "I've said it before and I'll say it again, I think you're stronger than you think."
Timothy
Seven Months Pregnant…
Timothy isn't sure there's a real reason he's still living at Christopher's house.
Whenever he brings it up, Christopher repeatedly says it's for his own protection, both in the fallout of the kidnapping and because he can't really function in human society being pregnant like he is. It's a logical and valid argument, but Timothy gets the feeling there's more to it. And once he has that feeling, he can't really shake it.
It's hard to pinpoint where the feeling comes from. He's not sure if it’s the way Christopher looks at him or the way he lays out his arguments. He's not sure if it’s the nest that still takes up most of the living room or the fact that Christopher makes food every night. He takes care of Timothy with the upmost attention and kindness, but then says it's only because that's what a good alpha and mate should do.
But Timothy thinks there's more to it.
He's worked hard to be a lawyer, and he's come to pride himself on his ability to read people. He can't say what people's ticks and tells are, but he can still read them. He can take in someone's body language and voice as a whole, and it just somehow processes through his instincts, giving him an insight he can't explain but knows is true without a shadow of a doubt.
He was certain about the farmers when he took their case.
He's certain there's more to Christopher wanting him here than just his protection and a sense of duty.
But he knows neither of them want to bring it up. What they have right now is fragile. They're balanced perfectly on the tip of a pin, and neither of them want to risk upsetting that balance.
So for now, Timothy is content to just let himself be happy. He'll let himself have this for as long as it lasts. He'll let Christopher deny that there's no deeper reason why Timothy is still here, all the while daring to hope Christopher will one day bring it to light. Because Timothy was willing to trust him once, and Christopher broke that trust. They may have moved past it, but Timothy doesn't want to make the same mistakes again.
If Christopher wants something more between them, he'll have to be the one to cross that bridge first.
And Timothy really hopes he'll do it.
They went to Timothy's apartment a week ago to clean up and let him gather more of his things. He’d packed bags with clothes, books, and more blankets to add to his growing nest. Christopher had taken the bags down to his car without prompting, and had said while he closed the trunk, "Let's go back home."
It had been offhanded and distracted. Christopher had spent the whole time keeping an eye out for any threat, and Timothy knew being in the vicinity of his apartment where the break in happened was putting Christopher on edge. So his words had been completely honest and without a filter.
Let's go back home.
His heart had soared, pounding restlessly and wildly the entire drive back to the base, making him dizzy and light headed. When Christopher asked what was wrong, Timothy had just smiled and said nothing. He didn't complain when Christopher insisted on carrying him into the house because his own legs felt weak at the knees.
He never complains when Christopher is gentle with him, which is exceedingly often. Now that his frustration and anger have petered out, it's left the alpha with a natural urge to care and protect. Timothy thought he would feel coddled. Instead…he dares to say that he kind of feels…loved.
It's a new and strange feeling, one he can
feel himself growing attached to. It's dangerous. Especially when he's not sure this thing between them can last. He wants to believe they can live together happily, as mates, raising his child together. But he doesn't know how things will change once the baby is born.
Then there's the matter of the real world catching up to them. Christopher still has his job and his role as pack alpha. He has missions that will eventually deploy him for periods of time. And then there's Timothy's own job, which has demands of its own. He'll be busy once he's able to return to it.
What they have now is going to change. Their careful balancing act is going to tip, but he's not sure which way they'll fall. Late at night, curled up in his nest that smells of Christopher, snuggling into one of the man's hoodies he stole, Timothy lets himself hope. He lets himself dream. But in the light of day, he's more cautious. He hoped once, and he learned a hard lesson about letting himself get carried away.
Still, he lets himself enjoy the little moments and the fragile peace they have while he can. At least when it's all over, if things go poorly, he'll be able to take comfort in his memories.
Timothy sits in his nest, propped up on a mountain of pillows and snuggled beneath a particularly soft blanket. Christopher is gone, off on a week-long training camp with his unit, but that's fine. Timothy isn't as lonely as he thought he’d be. The house still smells comfortingly like the alpha, and his scent is strong in the nest. Plus, Timothy isn't alone. Not really. He can feel the life inside him now he's not taking the wolfsbane, and that presence gets stronger every day.
He sits with papers strewn around him. There are a few file boxes off to the side, as well as his laptop. Just because he can't go down to the office or the courthouse doesn't mean he can't work. The trial got postponed, but he'll be expected back in court shortly after he gives birth, and he needs to be prepared.
He leans back against the pillows, one hand resting on his belly. He's about seven months pregnant, and his belly has grown large. It's uncomfortable and inconvenient, but he finds his feeling of contentment overrides any irritations. Besides, Christopher is usually around to help him with things and fetch him stuff when he doesn't want to move.
The TV plays in the background as he reads over the files in his hands. It's on a news channel, but it's more background noise than anything.
That is, until a familiar name catches his attention.
Roland Marsden. The CEO of the company his clients are suing. The one he was kidnapped with.
Timothy's head snaps up, setting the files aside as he scrambles to grab the remote and turn up the volume.
"Roland Marsden was released from the hospital today, after an extended stay in the trauma ward after the tragic events of his kidnapping and the hostage situation at the local courthouse several months ago."
On the screen, the familiar, pompous figure of the CEO steps forward. He gives a short speech, addressing a crowd of gathered reporters. Timothy tunes him out. He doesn't need to hear his words to know that he's painting the events in an evil and tragic light, while also sounding incredible arrogant.
No, Timothy's attention wanders to a figure standing behind him. Tall and broad, with a stoic face, bordering on bored. Red hair, cropped short and buzzed at the sides, piercing eyes and a scar on his lip.
Recognition hits him like a lightning bolt, sudden and painful. Timothy gasps, struggling out of his nest to waddle closer to the TV, wrapping both arms around his belly as he stares. His mouth hangs open, eyes far too close to the screen than is strictly necessary or healthy.
He's sure of it.
He recognizes that face. Those eyes. That scar.
As he pulled the ski mask over his face.
He's one of the kidnappers. The only one Timothy got a good look at. The one he'd tried to memorize in case of a situation just like this, but he's dressed in the uniform of a bodyguard, hovering behind the CEO like it's his job.
Which means…
Timothy staggers back to his nest, crawling back to his spot to lean against the pillows as he pulls his laptop toward him. His head is spinning, thoughts moving a million miles a minute. There's two possibilities. Either the kidnapper had managed to get close enough to the CEO and the man is in danger again, or…the CEO is behind the whole thing and the kidnapping was an attempt to dehumanize the farmers.
Timothy's gut clenches, a fire in his chest stoked and burning hot.
He knew it. He knew the farmers were far too gentle. Angry, yes, but far too kind to do something like that. He’d doubted his own instincts at the time, with all the apparent facts and the sudden appearance of Christopher, but he shouldn't have doubted himself. Now, without the wolfsbane in his system, his wolf howls. Angry and righteous. Burning with a need to protect.
With a newfound determination, Timothy pulls his papers closer, diving deeper to prepare his new defense.
Christopher
Three Weeks Later…
This late in his pregnancy, it's little surprise that Timothy's belly has grown so large, but paired with his small, slim frame, the natural progression looks almost comical. He waddles when he walks, leaning back with his hands on his belly, frustration pinching his features when he bumps into things and pouting when he can't reach what he needs.
But Christopher is never far away. He watches the omega like a hawk, always acutely aware of where he is and what he's doing, even if he doesn't realize it. He allows Timothy what independence he wants, but the moment he needs something, Christopher is already there. Pulling things off high shelves, picking fallen objects off the floor, gently pulling him into a seat so Christopher can fetch what he needs.
Timothy pouts, complaining about being coddled and babied, but despite the purse of his lips, there's a smile in his eyes he can't quite hide. It makes Christopher's heart soar, his wolf preening with smug pride whenever Timothy mutters a shy thanks.
Thankfully, Timothy isn't as restless as Christopher feared he might be. In fact, Timothy spends most of his days now either at the dining room table, files and papers strewn out around him in loosely organized chaos, or on his computer in their makeshift nest. For the past few weeks, Timothy has rarely been away from his phone, computer, or those files during his waking hours.
Christopher had asked about it, looking over his shoulder curiously and sitting at the table as Timothy thought aloud. He's been working on his court case, he says. The defense of the farmers in their lawsuit against the big-name company. He explains that he knows the farmers weren't behind the hostage situation in the courthouse, and he says it with such ironclad certainty Christopher finds it hard to doubt him.
For the most part, Christopher simply watches in silent awe. There's a spark in Timothy that he hasn't seen in a long time, and it burns far brighter and far hotter than he ever imagined. He's dedicated and determined to help his clients, and Christopher is coming to realize that those poor farmers couldn't have gotten any luckier with their lawyer.
Timothy is incredibly smart. He's heard about his achievements working in the human world and working through law school, but now that he's able to see it first-hand he realizes just how capable his mate is.
Timothy talks through a lot of his process when Christopher is around, absently swinging around legal jargon and pulling data from the files straight from memory. He always double checks, but there's rarely a need. His memory is impeccable, and Christopher has no idea how he crams that much information in his head and is able to retain it so thoroughly.
And while Christopher doesn't understand most of what Timothy says, he still listens. He asks questions where he can, but mostly he just lets Timothy ramble. And sometimes in his rambling, he figures out something he's been stuck on, a new light or angle, and Christopher loves seeing that excited fire in his eyes as he gasps and thanks him, like Christopher had anything to do with it when it's all a hundred percent Timothy's own genius.
Because that's just it. Christopher is realizing that his adorable, kind hearted, soft little mate is
actually a genius as well. Smart and driven, dedicated and fiercely protective.
Timothy doesn't seem to understand where his own drive to protect and defend comes from, but Christopher does. It's a natural instinct of a wolf, of both an omega and as the Prime Alpha's mate. As soon as one is taken under the care of a wolf, the wolf will protect their own. He wonders if Timothy realizes that even when he decided to leave his wolf and the pack behind, he still chose a profession and passion that's driven by his instincts. He's stayed truer to himself than he realizes.
More than that, Christopher realizes that Timothy's drive for justice stems from his own experiences with getting bullied and pushed around, and…Christopher can understand that. That same fire sparked in him. They've just gone about it in different ways.
They're not so different after all.
Unfortunately, Timothy's drive and passion for his work often leads to him neglecting himself. Lucky for him, Christopher is there.
"Come on," he says gently, reaching for Timothy's computer and slowly pushing it away.
Timothy stretches his arms, continuing to type, eyes never once leaving the screen. "Hold on, I'm almost done." But then his belly bumps against the table, and he can't reach any further. Timothy glares up at him, and Christopher just smirks, leaning over to save the document before closing the laptop. "I was working."
"It's late, and you should be relaxing."
"I am relaxed."