by A. J. Stone
He paid the driver using an app, and when he got out of the car, Marcel did the same. Wordlessly, the omega followed him to the front door. Though Zeke didn’t pay direct attention to Marcel, he was hyperaware of the omega.
When he finished with his admin, he called Anshu to inform him of the change in plans. Marcel followed him into the house, but when he loosened his tie and mounted the stairs, Marcel remained on the first level.
It was just as well. Zeke wasn’t sure how long he could maintain the façade of nonchalance without the armor of his clothes. He showered, the process taking a little longer because he kept picturing his omega in there with him. Afterward he shaved.
The front bell rang as he finished up. He shoved his legs into pants and flew down two flights of stairs. Marcel hovered at the opening between the living room and hallway. Fleetingly, Zeke wondered if the omega had taken the time to explore the house. It had a lot of space, plenty of room to raise a family.
And if Marcel wanted, Zeke could convert the basement into a dance studio. It had high enough ceilings.
He shook all that away as he opened the door. Anshu waited on the small porch with Tito behind him. Though this was the tenth meeting in two weeks, he’d dressed to impress.
“Good morning.” He gestured for Anshu to come inside. To Tito, he said, “Thanks for bringing him. I’ll take it from here.”
Tito pushed past Zeke and into the foyer. “I’ve decided to accompany you. It’s been a while since we’ve spent time together, and I haven’t been to Miami in years.”
Though Zeke wanted to refuse Tito, he refrained. Tito was his boss, the unofficial head of the Sharp-Winged tribe, and more than that, a huge part of him missed the man who’d been so vitally important to him for so many years.
Amaricio hadn’t forgiven Tito for kidnapping Edgar, which meant the rest of them were also not friendly with the elder dragon, but he knew Tito wouldn’t go against the High Council’s edicts. Seeing Anshu safely mated would be a coup for the Sharp-Winged Tribe, and since Anshu was one of the two scientists intent on studying the issue of the critically endangered omegas, it could only add insight into the dying off of the dragon species.
“Sure. Give me a minute to get dressed, and we’ll be on our way.” He headed up the stairs.
As he’d expected, Tito followed him. On the second floor, he said, “Ezekiel, is that a canine omega in your living room?”
“Yes.”
“He’s yours?”
“No.” The honest answer ripped into his battered heart. “But you’ll leave him be.”
Marcel
THE PLANE LIFTED INTO the air, and Marcel yawned to adjust his ears to the changing pressure. When he’d tossed and turned the night before, imagining the hoops he’d have to jump through in order to talk to Zeke again, he hadn’t envisioned anything remotely like the situation in which he now found himself.
Hurting Zeke had never been in his master plan. In a perfect world, he could have his alpha and his career. But this world was far from perfect, and experience had taught him that he’d never get anywhere if he didn’t pursue his dreams with a single-minded focus.
The way Zeke had left haunted him.
Scenes of the money skittering across the bed.
The hard, remote look in Zeke’s eyes.
A tortured acceptance that Marcel would never belong to him.
The anger underneath it all.
He washed a hand over his eyes, an ineffectual move that did not blot out the knowledge he’d done some serious damage to an innocent man.
This morning, his heart had raced when he’d spotted Zeke in his building. He’d briefly nursed a hope the alpha was there because he’d bounced back. More than anything, Marcel wanted Zeke to be okay. The way Zeke had dismissed him had stung, a small retaliation considering what Marcel had done to the alpha.
Hopping into that car had been a bold move, uncharacteristic of a man who planned out every second of his day. As the private plane leveled off, he accepted the fact that his color-coded schedule was blown.
Fluttering in his abdomen took his breath away, and he closed his eyes as joy and sadness washed over him. He couldn’t do this alone, and he dreaded giving up either the baby or his dreams, but one of them had to go.
He wondered at the way Zeke ignored him. The alpha didn’t once look his way or speak to him, but he was consistently aware of Marcel’s location and needs. He’d taken care of adding Marcel to the flight manifest without a word. He opened doors and made sure Marcel didn’t fall too far behind the group. He’d even bought him a snack in the airport, absently handing the pastry to Marcel as he herded Anshu toward the concourse.
Marcel chose a seat that wasn’t in the grouping with the other three passengers. He sat on a sofa toward the front of the cabin. It afforded him a way to watch Zeke and the others, and it allowed them privacy to discuss the business reasons behind the trip. Marcel wasn’t sure where they were going, but he was reassured by the fact that none of them had brought an overnight bag.
Zeke and Tito occupied wide, comfortable chairs, and Anshu—the omega he’d seen with Zeke in the coffee shop—sat across from them. The trio were definitely dragon shifters, and they were very different from the smaller shifters Marcel had known growing up.
For starters, they were all very tall and muscular. Even Anshu, who was thin and pale in comparison, sported a formidable and enviable build. He wore stylish clothes that set off his blue eyes, and he’d tied his white-blond hair back in a sleek ponytail.
Tito was handsome for an older man, and Marcel sensed the tension between him and Zeke.
And Zeke—he was the epitome of leading-man handsome. The scruffy beard and the tired smudges under his eyes had disappeared with a shower. The dress shirt he wore hugged his shoulders and fit snugly over his massive biceps. His eyes didn’t shine, not even when he smiled at something Anshu said.
He did not smile at Tito. It seemed the older shifter was on Zeke’s shit list along with Marcel. He wondered what had happened to land him there. If he was being fair, Zeke had given Marcel a lot of chances before he’d become withdrawn and remote, and so he figured Tito must have really fucked up as well.
The three of them conversed in low tones. Marcel overheard snatches, enough to figure out they were taking Anshu to meet a potential alpha. Marcel wondered if Zeke might have tried for the attractive omega’s hand if his dragon hadn’t purred for Marcel.
He also wondered if his canine would ever stop whining for another taste of Zeke’s dizzying kisses or the touch of his hands all over Marcel’s body.
The seatbelt light went off, and Marcel got up onto his knees to look out the window. He hadn’t set out to fuck up his life, but that’s exactly what he’d done. The next time someone mugged him, he was going to let them take his stuff. Fighting for material possessions hadn’t turned out so well for him.
“We haven’t been properly introduced.”
Marcel jumped. He’d been too absorbed in his dark thoughts to notice Anshu’s approach. Disconcerted, he fumbled for a reply. “I know who you are.”
“And I know who you are.” Anshu grinned. “But that doesn’t mean we’ve been introduced.” He stuck out a hand. “Anshu Bray, scientist extraordinaire for Gliding Principles. I’m currently on loan to Draco International. I’m working with Koren Tafari on a genetics project.”
After that detailed introduction, Marcel chuckled. “Marcel Yardan, aspiring dancer. I was cast in Dance of the Dragons at the Verdance Theater until an unfortunate accident left me injured, and I lost my job.” He held up his right arm, still in a cast, and then he pointed to his ankle, which was wrapped tight. “If I’d known I was going to be gone this long, I would have brought my crutches. I’m good for short distances only at this point.”
Anshu nodded. “I heard about the mix-up with Zane. I hope you’re not too mad at him. He’s a good guy. It was an honest mistake.”
Honestly, Marcel hadn’t thought about Zane V
elan in a long time. He’d been too focused on the problems that had come after. “I’m not angry with him. He was a victim, too.” Abandoning the window, he sat next to Anshu.
Motioning toward the alphas who had their heads together and conversed in low tones, Anshu said, “I take it you and Zeke had a disagreement?”
“You could say that.”
Anshu lowered his voice and leaned closer to Marcel. “Mind if I stick my nose into your business and ask about it?”
Marcel’s first reaction was to wonder about Anshu’s motive. “Why do you care?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I’ve known Zeke, from a distance, my whole life. We come from rival tribes, and we’ve had our share of conflict. He doesn’t have to help me find an alpha—a task my own tribe has all but abandoned—but that doesn’t stop him from putting forth his best effort. These past few weeks, I’ve come to know him pretty well. I like him, and I respect him. He’s a good person. Though he’s trying to hide it beneath that attractive, stoic exterior, I can see he’s torn up about you. So, I’m over here, wondering if I can help patch up things between you.”
Marcel studied Anshu. “What did he tell you?”
“Nothing. He just pats my hand and tells me to focus on my work while he finds me the perfect alpha.” Anshu flashed a smile. “Having you here is torture, and I’m not sure why he’s doing this to himself.”
Like it was full of lead, Marcel’s gaze dropped to the floor. “It’s my fault. I asked if he had a few minutes to talk, and he said he didn’t. So I followed him. I thought he was going to work, and I’d just sit in the lobby or outside his office until he was ready to see me. I didn’t think he’d let me get on a plane with him.”
Anshu patted Marcel’s hand and tsked. “Honey, if he didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be here.”
Marcel had figured as much. He didn’t understand Zeke’s motivation either.
“Sometimes it helps to talk to another omega,” Anshu prompted. “Whatever you tell me will stay between us.”
Something about Anshu Bray invited confidence. Marcel sighed. “My parents are lawyers, and they expected me to follow in their footsteps. From the time I was little, they made this clear. For Halloween, they used to dress me up as a judge. For my seventh birthday, they got me a gavel, but I wanted a tutu. I lobbied them to put me into a ballet class. It took two years, but they finally caved.”
Anshu frowned, no doubt waiting for what this had to do with Zeke.
“I loved it,” Marcel continued. “When I’m in my leotard, I feel like I can do anything. They didn’t understand, so they limited the time I was allowed to spend dancing. After high school, they sent me to a college known for churning out talented lawyers. It did not have a dance program. Those were the worst two years of my life. It got bad, really bad. I started drinking heavily and smoking pot. I tried to kill myself twice.”
Anshu’s long fingers twined with Marcel’s shorter ones. “You were depressed.”
“Yeah. The second attempt landed me in the hospital, and I realized I’d given up the thing that meant the world to me in order to become someone I didn’t want to be.” Marcel ran a palm over his hair. “So I quit college and threw myself into dancing. My parents flipped out. They’d rather I take anti-depressants and stay in law school. When I came to Verdance, they cut me off financially. They still talk to me, but the only thing they’ll buy me is a bus ticket home.”
“And then Zane took your backpack, and you lost your job dancing in the theater.” Anshu gasped. “That’s horrible. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t research and experiment. I love science the same way you love dance.”
Happy that someone understood, Marcel turned toward his new friend. “But you’re willing to give it all up to marry an alpha?”
“Hell, no.” Anshu scoffed. “I won’t give that up.”
Marcel grinned. “Just like I won’t give up dance. Once my ankle is healed, I’m going back onstage. Nobody is going to stop me.”
Then he remembered that a little someone might do just that. He or she wouldn’t be doing it on purpose, but the outcome would be the same.
Anshu waited a beat, and his smile slowly morphed to a frown. “What does that have to do with Zeke and being his omega? Did he say you’d have to give up dancing?”
“No,” Marcel admitted. He had no intention of giving Zeke an opportunity to refuse to let him be himself. There was no way he could live without dance at the center of his life. Dread killed the joy he might have felt toward the bundle growing inside his body. “But I know how these things work. He’ll want me to have kids and stay home to raise them.”
Waving, Anshu dismissed Marcel’s concern. “That’s only for like fifteen or twenty years. You have plenty of time to dance after that.”
Marcel gaped. “Nobody is going to hire a middle-aged dancer. If I have kids now, I’m throwing away my whole life.”
Anshu considered this. “I forgot about the short lifespan of canine shifters. Dragons frequently live for five hundred years.” He tapped a finger against his lower lip. “I wonder if carrying a hybrid fetus changes anything with regard to the omega’s lifespan? It’s worth considering whether it changes an omega’s DNA.”
The dragon omega’s musings quieted until they were only inside his head. As he watched, Marcel wondered if Zeke had considered the problem that Marcel’s lifespan wasn’t as long as his. Did it bother him, or did it make him view Marcel as a temporary inconvenience?
“Can I get a DNA sample from you?” Without waiting for a response, Anshu hurried to where he’d stowed his bag. He returned with a sterile cheek swab kit. “Open up.”
“Why do you want my DNA?”
“Research. I’m studying shifter genetics.” He motioned for Marcel to open his mouth.
Marcel complied.
Anshu scraped the swab along the inside of Marcel’s cheek. “Awesome. This will help, I hope.”
“Help with what?”
“With understanding why I’m the last surviving dragon omega.” Anshu pressed his lips together as he bagged and labeled the sample. “You see, dragon shifters are going extinct. I hope by studying our DNA and that of other shifters who aren’t going extinct, I can find out what’s causing there to be primarily alpha births, though even those are fewer and farther between. From an evolutionary perspective, you’d think there would be more omegas than alphas.”
Marcel knew nothing about the topic. “You’re seriously the last omega dragon?”
“I am.” He pursed his lips. “You’d think they’d be lining up at my door to take me out, but they’re not. The connection you have with Zeke is increasingly rare among our kind. In the last two decades, dragon alphas have been mating with omegas from domesticated species only—canine, feline, equine.”
“Interesting,” Marcel muttered. He appreciated how Anshu was taking his mind off his problems. “So, are you going to meet alphas who are canine, feline, or equine shifters?”
“No. I’m meeting a dragon from the Silver-Winged Tribe.” Gears moved behind Anshu’s eyes. “Of course, it stands to reason that if alphas aren’t clicking with dragon omegas, then dragon omegas probably won’t connect with dragon alphas. It’ll be interesting to see how today’s meeting goes.”
To Marcel’s way of thinking, flying to Miami was an awful long way to go for a blind date. “Have you video-chatted with him?”
“No. Dragons are primal creatures. Nothing will happen unless we’re face-to-face.”
That’s how it had been with Zeke. The moment he’d walked into the room, Marcel’s canine had awoken in a way it never had before. Where Zeke was concerned, Marcel was an uncontrolled mess.
Chapter 8
Zeke
HAVING MARCEL IN CLOSE proximity was killing him by degrees. His dragon wanted to shift, pick up the reluctant omega, and take him someplace private. Without the world to bother them, he might stand a chance at convincing Marcel they belonged together.
The
café he’d chosen for Anshu’s meeting with Kian Snow of the Silver-Winged Tribe was an open-air affair, which did not suit Zeke. The temperature in Miami was far too warm. He was used to winters high in the mountains, and he preferred cooler weather. In his rush to leave, he’d forgotten to bring a change of clothing. He could have done with some air conditioning.
Of course, the sexy omega waiting in his living room might have occupied his mind more than being prepared for midday in southern Florida.
He shrugged out of his jacket and loosened his tie.
Tito eyed him dispassionately. “You should have worn a lighter material.”
Zeke opted not to reply.
Next to him, Marcel sipped an iced tea. He seemed preoccupied with watching Anshu and Kian having iced coffees on the other side of the café. That suited Zeke just fine. It meant Marcel wasn’t looking at him, which meant he didn’t have to spend his time trying to figure out what Marcel was thinking.
The omega wanted to talk to him.
He’d followed him all the way to Miami with nary a protest.
What could he have to say that was so important it couldn’t wait, and did it have anything to do with the unknown thing nagging at Zeke’s mind?
One thing Zeke knew for certain—Marcel hadn’t changed his mind about having a relationship with him. He’d overheard him talking to Anshu on the plane, and he recognized the omega’s resolve had nothing to do with him. It wasn’t personal.
And that fucking sucked.
Marcel was his omega. It was personal to Zeke, and the hollow pain in his chest wasn’t a feeling to which Zeke was accustomed, nor did he wish to be.
Across from him, Tito cleared his throat. “Ezekiel, now that I have you alone, relatively speaking, there’s something important I want to talk to you about.”
As head of security, Zeke was involved with many aspects of Draco International. Anything that needed or impacted security was his job to oversee. In some ways, he had more power than anyone else there, Tito included.