by Leta Blake
Xan didn’t reply, concentrating on getting one foot in front of the other. Even with Urho’s steadying hand, it was hard to stay upright. Finally, he said, “It’s a crime, but it wasn’t rape.”
“So you know your attacker,” Urho said darkly. “You don’t want to name him.”
“I just want to go home.”
“I demand to know who did this.” Urho spoke with authority that rattled Xan deeply and made him want to obey. But he couldn’t. There was too much at stake. For Xan, especially, and for Caleb too. Urho’s idea of help would only make things infinitely worse for everyone.
Xan kept walking.
Urho followed on his heels. “I demand to know what alpha has put his hands on you in this abominable manner? Who forced you into a vile act of submission?”
“I’m unmanned,” Xan whispered furiously, spinning to face Urho in the street. He had to put a stop to this before Urho attempted to use his greater physical power and size to manhandle Xan into compliance.
“I can see—and smell—that you’ve been forced to submit,” Urho said, lowering his voice to a tender, calmness meant to soothe. “But that doesn’t make you unmanned. This is a violation, not a lasting condemnation of your character.”
“You don’t get it!” Xan cried. “It’s how I am. Ask Jason. Or Caleb.” His throat hurt from having been squeezed. He could barely force out the words. “As an unmanned alpha, I get what’s coming to me. Understand?”
Urho shook his head, eyes narrowing in confusion. The silver in his dark hair shimmered in the rising moonlight. “This is nonsense. You have an omega…”
Xan groaned, turning his back on Urho again. He needed to get to his car and make it home before he passed out from pain and before the horror he’d no doubt feel keenly in the morning caught up with him in the present.
“I get what’s coming to me,” he said again, darkness surging up inside. The ink black of his soul, fed so thoroughly by his encounters with Monhundy, past and present, confirmed that he was broken and twisted. Unmanned, unlovable, and utterly unworthy. “I get what I deserve.”
Urho’s hold on him loosened, shock working its way over his face, his eyes widening as he finally seemed to understand that Xan was no victim.
“That’s my car,” Xan said, nodding to the lime-green spectacle he’d bought on an optimistic day—a day when he’d felt more like his real self, the one who didn’t give in to temptation and come to Wilbet Monhundy’s house begging for a beating.
Urho’s voice was ghostly as he asked, “Are you capable of driving home?”
“Yes,” Xan lied. He wasn’t sure, actually. “Caleb will take care of me. Don’t worry.”
Urho stared at him, his lips drawn tight and closed.
“And, please, don’t mention this to Jason. He’s got enough on his mind.” Xan stepped away from Urho’s strong grip and climbed into his car, fumbling the keys before he was able to start the engine and pull away from the curb.
In the rearview mirror, Urho stood on the sidewalk, hands in pockets, staring after him with a dark expression. Vomit pushed up into Xan’s mouth, and he swallowed it down, groaning miserably. He’d never had Urho’s good opinion, but he sure as wolf-hell wouldn’t ever have it now. He’d be lucky if the man didn’t turn him in to the police.
Given how close he’d come to death tonight, Urho’s opinion of him was the last thing that should matter. And yet, for the whole, surreal drive home, Urho’s dark, bewildered eyes and tightly drawn lips, the evidence of his disgust and disapproval, were all Xan could think about.
It hurt almost as much as his physical injuries.
“Oh, darling, why do you do this to yourself?” Caleb asked. His cool, long fingers trailed gently over the marks on Xan’s throat, and his kind, blue eyes shone sadly. The moonlight and cold night air spilled into Caleb’s sumptuous bedroom through the open sash, washing over Xan’s feverish, red, bruised, and broken skin. He wore only pajama bottoms, his robe discarded on the floor by the bed. Sounds of the city drifted in the windows.
“I don’t know. I can’t stop myself when the need hits me.”
Caleb sighed. “One day, he could kill you.” He helped Xan into the bed, facedown, so that he could treat Xan’s worst injuries from Monhundy’s kicks to his back.
“I know. And then what would happen to you?” Xan conceded, his eyes drooping with exhaustion. The cool sheets and blankets felt good on his hot skin.
Caleb tucked his blond, chin-length hair behind his ears as he peered at Xan’s wounds. He treated them as gently and lovingly as any pater with his precious child. It made Xan feel loved and safe in a way he knew, deep down, he wholly didn’t deserve.
The hot poultices that Caleb laid across Xan’s bruised back and hips soothed him. The soft bed Caleb nested in nightly with fluffy pillows and soft blankets beckoned Xan to sleep. But he’d need to return to his own room before long, where he’d ache with loneliness the way he deserved, and dream of an alpha that could love him as though he were a true omega.
“As if that’s what worries me most,” Caleb murmured. Though Xan wouldn’t blame him at all if that were his biggest fear. Caleb had his own secrets to keep and needs to meet. There was a reason the so-called “unmatchable omega” had contracted with an unmanned alpha, after all. Of course those reasons were a secret between the two of them and not known to the world at large. So long as Xan didn’t spoil things with his recklessness, they didn’t ever need to be.
“We might not be lovers in the truest sense, but I do care for you, Xan,” Caleb said, smearing arnica lotion over the smaller bruises. Xan hissed and hid his face in the crook of his arm. “More than as a cover for my own defects. We are friends, aren’t we?”
“Family,” Xan said firmly, his alpha-given proprietary urge rising up hard. Caleb wasn’t his true love, but he was his omega. They’d made promises and contracted after all. Caleb was most definitely his, and while they might not share the things other contracted couples shared, no matter what, they were family now.
“Then as your family, but, more importantly in my opinion, as your true friend, I’m begging you to stop seeing this monster.”
Xan held back the cutting, accusatory remarks that leapt to his tongue, knowing they reflected his own fears about his worth as an alpha and not Caleb’s actual opinions. The nasty blame echoed in his mind all the same.
If you don’t stop now, someone will find out, Xan. How long can this remain a secret? And what then? If you’re discovered, you won’t be the only one to pay a price. Caleb will suffer too. And your brother, Ray. The family will be humiliated. Your parents. And your friends. Association with you will be damnation for everyone who cares for you. Why are you so craven and selfish? Why are you so disgusting?
“Xan, stop beating yourself up,” Caleb said, knowing him too well. “You’ve done enough of that tonight by letting that alpha abuse you again. Does he always have to hurt you so much?”
“He likes it.”
“Do you?”
Xan squeezed his eyes shut, tightness in his throat making it hard to speak. “I don’t know what I like anymore.”
Caleb sighed forlornly. “And I’m of no help at all.”
“You’re all kinds of help. You’re patching me up, aren’t you?” Xan tried to sound devil-may-care, but the pain in his voice ruined the effect. “You’re a wonderful omega.”
“What were you even doing on that side of town?” Caleb asked gently, as always trying not to sound nearly as critical as Xan knew he had every right to be.
“Visiting Jason and Vale. I was going to come right home, but…” He shuddered as Caleb rubbed arnica into his back. The sick ache of pressure on the boot-shaped bruise made him nauseous. He should tell Caleb about Vale and Jason’s news, but he just didn’t have the energy.
“He’s your cocaine,” Caleb murmured, mentioning the drug that had flayed open and destabilized Caleb’s childhood when his father became addicted to it and lost the family fortun
e.
There’d been so many reasons Xan’s parents had opposed their match, including Caleb being older, at twenty-nine, and carrying a dubious reputation. The history of addiction and scandal had been another black mark. They’d only given in when they’d realized Xan was determined beyond reason to contract with the beautiful Caleb and that he wouldn’t even entertain the idea of any other omega. Now his parents liked Caleb better than they liked him, but that was another story altogether.
Xan bit down on the inside of his cheek, remembering how he’d once thought Caleb was the savior he’d been looking for. How terribly wrong he’d been. And now he’d dragged poor Caleb down with him, making the handsome, patient man subject once again to the poorly managed addiction of the alpha in his life. Shame rose hotly to his cheeks.
“I’ll quit him,” Xan promised. He no longer knew how many times Caleb had implored him to stop submitting to Monhundy’s violence and how many times he’d agreed, only to decide a few weeks later to endure it “one last time.”
“You must, before he murders you.”
“Or the truth gets out.”
Caleb sat back on his heels, his brow arched as he gazed imperiously down at Xan. It was an expression he excelled at. “Your priorities remain skewed. Your life is more important than your reputation.”
“My father wouldn’t agree. Or Ray.”
“You don’t give your brother enough credit. As for your father… Well…” Caleb trailed off, both of them no doubt remembering the family dinner when Xan’s father had declared that he’d rather have a dead son than an unmanned one after a rumor about the nature of Xan’s proclivities had come to his attention. “The state you’re in, I’m surprised you were able to make it home.”
“I had help,” Xan admitted.
“Someone drove you?” Caleb asked carefully.
“No, Urho Chase saw me trying to get to my car and he assisted me.”
Though Xan shouldn’t have driven himself. He’d nearly passed out twice as he’d tried to navigate the streets, blinking in and out of consciousness as the world dissolved around him. Luckily, the roads had been mostly deserted, but still, the trip had been harrowing.
When he’d arrived at their upscale house in Center Square, just a half mile from his parents’ palatial home, he’d been grateful to see Lenser, one of his most discreet beta servants at the front door. He’d handed over the keys to the car, asked Lenser to put it in the garage, and headed inside, glad to be home in one piece, and aware that while Lenser would ask no questions and spread no rumors, he’d still seen his employer in a state no man could call respectable.
Thank wolf-god that betas didn’t have the scenting ability of omegas or alphas, or Lenser would have known the truth instantly. As Urho had.
“Dr. Chase is an alpha,” Caleb said, sitting back with wide eyes. “You arrived here reeking of the monster’s semen. There’s no way he didn’t smell him on you.”
Xan’s gut tangled up and hot humiliation and cold fear rushed over him at once. “He did.”
“And you told him what? That you’d been attacked? Set upon by some alpha who…?” Caleb’s uncertainty drove into Xan with a ferocious need to protect him, to promise his omega that everything would be okay. He was an alpha after all, no matter what sick things he got up to sexually. He still felt the urge to protect his omega from harm.
“I told him the truth.”
Caleb gasped. “You… Why?”
“As you said, he scented it on me. He demanded we call the police. You know how Urho is, so upright and correct. And I wasn’t thinking clearly enough to come up with another plan. The truth seemed the only way out.”
“And what truth was that?” Caleb’s blond brows rose. “The one you tell me or the real, honest to wolf-god truth?”
“The least amount of it I could afford to tell while still stopping him from doing the so-called ‘right’ thing and calling the police.”
“And did you tell him about Jason?”
Xan flinched. “No. That’s not something Jason would want.” Though he’d hinted to Urho that Jason knew something, hadn’t he? He slowly met Caleb’s eyes.” I didn’t realize you knew about Jason.”
“Not from you, that’s for certain. And, no, not from Jason either. But I’m not a fool. I know you well enough now and I’ve seen how you look at him sometimes, the way you still long for him. And I’ve seen how he looks at you with affection and, well, for lack of a better word, guilt. He knows you far too well and treats you too generously to just be an old friend.”
“We were lovers, yes.”
“What ended it?”
Xan sighed. “He found Vale.”
“I see.” Caleb knew the story of Vale and Jason’s imprinting. They told it now like it was a sweet tale, waxing lyrical over the moment like it hadn’t been violent, terrifying, and basically assault. The rose-colored glasses of Erosgapé love had taken the sting from it for them. Not so much for Xan.
“And now Dr. Chase knows about you.”
Xan buried his face in his hands. “I was delirious and in pain. I don’t know how much he understood or believed. It’s not too late to handle it, control the story.”
“Mmm,” Caleb hummed. “And what did Dr. Chase say?”
“He was confused. I’m surprised he let me drive home. I think his shock is all that allowed him to release me.”
“As if that’s a good thing! You’d have been better off under a doctor’s care. Who knows what that monster has done to you?” Caleb adjusted a poultice that had slipped with Xan’s squirming. “I wish you’d let me look.”
“No.” Xan enjoyed Caleb’s care on his external wounds, but he had limits as to what he’d let his omega see of the aftermath of indulging in his addiction.
“Dr. Chase…” Caleb sighed again. “He’ll have questions.”
“I’m sure.”
“He’ll call Jason.”
“I don’t think he will. Not right now.”
Caleb looked doubtful, and on another day, he’d be right. But Urho wasn’t going to bother Jason, not if it would add stress to Vale. The pregnancy, terrifying as it was, would at least shield Jason and Xan from dealing with that awkward conversation.
“Dr. Chase is old-fashioned,” Caleb said quietly. “I know you admire him, and I’ve seen how you look at him.”
“What’s that mean?”
“You know what it means, Xan.” Caleb didn’t sound angry, just sad and tired. For both of them. “I know you admire him,” he said again. “But is he trustworthy?”
“I think so. Yes.” Especially now when Vale was delicate. Urho would never put Vale at risk; his loyalty and investment there was too strong, and that meant he’d keep Xan’s secret. At least until Jason and Vale’s baby was born…or not born. As the case may be. His gut twisted up.
“I suppose I’ll have to trust your assessment.”
“I know I made a mistake tonight.”
“Darling, you make this mistake far too often. It breaks my heart.” Caleb nuzzled the back of Xan’s neck. There was nothing sensual in the action, only a needy seeking of reassurance. An omega gesture, and Xan responded as he should, with an alpha’s comfort.
“We’re all right, Caleb. I promise I’ll always take care of you.”
Caleb huffed softly and then pulled back. “I’d rather you took care of yourself.”
“I’m tired,” Xan said, carefully rolling onto his back, dislodging the poultices, and sitting up. He broke out into a sweat from the effort, and as he gingerly stood, Caleb helped him up.
“You need to rest. What excuse will you use tomorrow?”
“I’ll go to work,” Xan said.
“But your face…”
Xan touched his swollen cheekbone and grimaced. “I take it there’s no hiding it?”
“Not even with the stage makeup we have left over from that costume party we attended.”
“I’ll have to claim flu, then.”
“Yes,” Caleb
agreed. “I’ll make the call in the morning.”
“Thank you.” His knotted gut relaxed.
If Caleb called, his father wouldn’t scream and yell, and he’d likely leave Xan alone for at least a few days. Caleb, like so many omegas, knew just how to speak to an alpha to reduce the threat of aggression, and Xan was grateful for that.
How many family dinners had been salvaged by Caleb’s smooth interference when Father began his usual vicious picking on Xan? It was hard being the family’s only alpha offspring, with all the hopes of the future pinned on him, especially when he was so very, deeply flawed, and everyone suspected the truth, even if they didn’t quite know it for sure.
“I can make it on my own,” Xan said, bending to pick up his robe and hissing in pain as he did.
“Let me help” Caleb slipped the soft robe over Xan’s shoulders.
The cold breeze from the windows prickled his skin, and he was wracked with a painful shudder. In his own room, the beta servants would have stoked his fire for the night, and he’d be able to snuggle into bed toasty and warm. It was only Caleb who preferred to sleep in an ice-cold room.
Caleb’s pale skin glowed in the moonlight, perfect and unblemished. His hairless chest and abdomen was revealed by the V of his white silk robe, and Xan wished, as always, that he felt moved at all by the sight. It was, by all rights, a beautiful one. Caleb was the epitome of an omega—delicate and sweet, handsome and fit, with sensual quirks, like sleepy eyes and a pouty mouth.
Most alphas ached to defend and possess him. He’d been coveted for many years at the Philia Committee soirées for unmatched omegas, but he’d refused to entertain anyone’s offer until Xan had come along. And even then he’d rejected Xan until he’d finally understood their needs were perfectly matched…
At least most of the time.
Xan took the tub of liniment Caleb had been using on him and kissed him gently on the cheek. Caleb walked him to the door of his room and, just before Xan left, took him into a gentle hug. “Sleep well, alpha mine,” he murmured.