by Harris, Noah
"What do you mean?"
"Cut the shit and answer the question," Christopher bites out. He knows that Timothy knows exactly what he means. "Who's the son of a bitch who…"
"I don't know." The words cut him off, spoken with an eerie sense of calm. Timothy glares at him, expression hard and unyielding, lips pursed. He hadn't wavered in his answer.
Christopher feels his eyes widen, jaw dropping open in shock. So Timothy had been with so many men he's lost track? So many men he can't even pinpoint the man who knocked him up? Just how many men have seen him the way Christopher had, all warm and writhing and wet beneath him?
"What do you…" he sputters, reeling as he tries to find his voice. "How can you not know?" He slams his fists on the table, ignoring the wince of guilt when Timothy flinches. "Think!" he shouts, teeth clenched tight as he seethes.
"I told you, I don't know!" Timothy snaps, anger sharp and barbed as he spits it out. Then he sighs, arms wrapping around his belly. His eyes drift down to it, aching and forlorn. "I don't know how this happened."
Christopher can't help his scoff, feeling no pity for a man who betrayed him. "It's pretty obvious how it happened." He waves a hand around, as if that might help him find his words as he shakes with anger. "You just…just went around town and fucked, and got fucked until you were knocked up by some…some random pig, some no good son of a…"
"Stop!"
"Surely you can at least narrow it down to a few?" he mocks. "Two? Three? Four? Five?" His voice gets higher as he continues, losing control as he feels more and more frantic. "Or have you lost track in all the sleeping around you've done? How many were there, Timothy? How many?"
"Zero!" Christopher's jaw snaps shut, teeth clicking together. Timothy's hands shake, curling into fists as they rest on his belly. He glares daggers at Christopher, and he can see the moisture in them. He takes in a deep, ragged breath, closing his eyes to steady himself as he says, softer this time but no less venomous, "Zero, okay?" His eyes snap open, and he waves a hand around mockingly. "As much as I would've loved to just, as you delicately put it, fuck and get fucked, I've been too busy, and I've had no interest in that kind of life. I've been doing nothing but studying and working my ass off, and then all of…" He waves both hands around now, gesturing to himself as he scowls. "This happens!"
Christopher's eyes narrow. He can't believe…first his mate cheats on him with who knows how many men, but now he's trying to lie about it? When the evidence is right there in his swollen belly? He's been as chaste as a monk for four years out of respect for his martyr of a mate. He's stayed true to the entire concept of a mate, and despite him running away, Christopher has respected him and their bond.
But apparently that wasn't enough for Timothy. He has no idea how he got pregnant? Ha! What a joke. A joke at Christopher's expense.
And to think, he had actually missed this man. He's spent his nights being haunted by his guilt, and his days longing for his company. He's idolized that sweet, innocent face for years, and this is the thanks he gets? He'd been convinced Timothy was heartbroken, and he’d tortured himself with guilt over it. Apparently he hadn't needed to. His mate was fine without him.
Fine, he thinks. If Timothy doesn't want to tell him who the father is? Fine. It doesn't matter. Whoever he is, he's not around anymore, and Christopher is.
A sharp knock at the door breaks into their heated stare down, and Christopher stands roughly enough to nearly knock his chair over. He leaves the room and Timothy behind without a word as he goes to answer the door.
Perkins and Lopez wait on his front porch, offering tired and apologetic smiles when faced with their alpha's disgruntled ire. "Hey, boss," Perkins says.
"Sleep well?" Lopez asks, some cheek in his voice and a little amusement sparkling in his eyes.
Christopher glares at them and sighs. "What do you want?"
That snaps them both into standing straighter, amusement fading as they take on the far more formal posture of work. "We're here to take Timothy down to the police station to testify," Perkins says, and then, when Christopher just blinks at him, "Like we agreed yesterday?"
"Right," he sighs again, running his fingers through his hair and rubbing his eyes. "Right. I remember." He clearly didn't, but no one points it out.
"There's…something else," Lopez says hesitantly, glancing to Perkins before looking back at Christopher.
He lifts a brow, standing up a little straighter when he notices his reluctance. "Go ahead," he says, with all the firm but gentle authority of an alpha wolf.
It's Lopez's turn to sigh. "It's the pack. The men are getting restless and frustrated. Supplies came in yesterday, but they still haven't increased our portion of meat, and everyone is getting antsy. We need more than this, but we're not allowed to hunt in this area."
Christopher closes his eyes briefly, exhaling a long breath through his nose. "Alright," he says, nodding to the others. "I'll have a talk with the higher ups. Again. See what I can do."
The two of them look relieved, and that just makes his gut twist with guilt. He's been trying to talk to their superiors about getting more meat in their supply shipments, but his demands haven't been met. Those who run the budgets and supply department are human, and they don't seem to understand the importance of meat in their kind's diet. Without enough of it, the pack grows frustrated and restless.
They keep saying this amount is fine, that other special wolf forces get the same amount. He's tried to explain that those packs are stationed in areas where they can hunt freely to make up for the lack of what the army supplies. But no one seems to listen, his demands falling on deaf ears.
Just a week ago, he nearly got fired as he lost his temper with his superiors, trying to stress the excellence of his team and how important this is to their health. All to no avail.
He'll find a way to deal with it. He has to, as the alpha of the pack. Even with Timothy back in his life making everything muddled and confusing, he still has a duty to his pack.
"Don't worry about Timothy," he says as he turns back toward the house. "I'll take him down to the station."
He doesn't want to admit that he doesn't trust Timothy out of his sight just yet, but judging from the worried glances he sees pass between Perkins and Lopez as he turns, he thinks they probably know.
Timothy
The drive to the station had been silent and tense, but the atmosphere on the drive home is nearly unbearable. Timothy sits in the passenger seat, slouched with his arms crossed tight over his chest, glaring out the window with a scowl etched onto his features. Christopher isn't much better. He sits stiffly in the driver's seat, practically squirming with restlessness, knuckles white where he grips the steering wheel. He radiates anger, in both scent and presence. It fills the small space of the car, suffocating and thick. If Timothy wasn't so irritated himself, he's certain he’d be whimpering.
But the fact is that he is irritated beyond belief.
Going to the police station had been a waste of time. He’d been forced to sit through a long interrogation, but half of what he said was overrun and overshadowed by the loud and obnoxious voice of the CEO. Timothy had been forced to sit there, grinding his teeth, trying to get a word in edgewise. He had tried insisting that he isn't so sure it was the farmers, but no one seemed to care.
And when he tried to bring up the robbery in his home, he’d basically been ignored. The robbery itself wasn't as much of a priority as the hostage taking of the CEO, and when he suggested they might be connected, especially given his missing files, they’d brushed it aside. The CEO had gone so far as to laugh in his face, calling him young and naive.
Needless to say, Timothy is seething.
He doesn't even protest as Christopher drives him back to the small, military style base where his pack resides. He knows better than to argue with the man right now, and he knows, as much as he hates it, that Christopher is right. He's safer here, and how the hell is he supposed to live in the human world once
his pregnancy gets too big to hide? He can't exactly go to the grocery store like this.
Thankfully, they managed to postpone the trial between the company and the farmers for six months, giving Timothy time to get past this whole ordeal. It's the only saving grace about the situation.
The base where the pack lives is located deep in the woods, far from prying human eyes. Surrounded by a fence to keep trespassers out, it looks less like a formal military compound and more like a gated community. He knows all Christopher's special wolf forces pack live here, along with their families. He's recognized a few of them from four years ago, but there are far more unfamiliar faces.
As they pull up to Christopher's house, they find a crowd amassing in the yard, practically blocking the path to the front porch. Timothy feels his stomach drop, heart beat pounding against his ribs. His mouth feels dry, but he tries to keep his expression unreadable and his chin high as the car pulls to a stop. He reaches for the door handle with a shaky hand.
As soon as he steps out into the open, he hears the wave of gasps and whispers, spreading through the gathered pack like a wildfire. He walks toward Christopher's front door with quick purpose, eyes staring straight ahead. He can hear the hissing around him. They jeer, hurling insults at him.
Slut. Whore. Filthy omega. Bitch.
Omegas are hardly well considered to begin with, but he's single and pregnant. An unmated omega without a pack and with child is the lowest of the low. Had he been a part of their pack, unmated but claimed by their alpha, that would be one thing. But most of them don't know him, and even those who do see him as a betrayer of his blood.
None of them have any reason to know Christopher is his mate. His mating mark has been gone for four years, and despite the weak and tremulous bond they still share, they haven't been around each other or intimate enough for their scents to give them away.
He's pretty sure things would be worse if the pack did know he was their alpha's mate, and he’d abandoned him and been impregnated while away.
He hurries through the funnel formed by the crowd, as if they're so disgusted they don't dare get close.
He's already inside the house when he vaguely hears Christopher addressing the pack behind him. His voice is cold and sharp, commanding as he shouts at the other wolves. He thinks he distantly hears Christopher telling them to treat him with respect, but he's already running up the stairs. It doesn't matter what Christopher says, because their opinions of him won't change.
He hurls himself into the guest bedroom just as the front door slams shut. Tears blur his vision as he falls to his knees by his suitcase, tearing through it and throwing clothes aside as he frantically searches for the familiar bottle…he needs it…needs it…
Ah! There it is!
His fingers clutch the familiar pill bottle, hands shaking as he fumbles to get the lid off. It falls to the ground along with several pills. He shakes more out onto his palm. He's never taken this many, but he can't bring himself to dump them back in the bottle. Maybe…maybe if he takes them all, his wolf will be gone for good.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Timothy jumps, whirling around to stare at Christopher. He stands in the open doorway, hands clutching the frame. His eyes are wide, frantic, and angry as they zero in on the bottle in Timothy's hand. His nostrils flare and judging from the wave of shock that rolls across his face, Timothy knows he can smell exactly what the pills are.
Then the shock wears off, and he snaps into action, hurling himself into the room and to Timothy's side. Timothy flinches as Christopher grabs his wrist in a bruising grip, shaking the pills from his hand and yanking him to his feet. He struggles against the grip weakly. "Let me go!" he demands, voice shaking.
"What are you trying to do?" Christopher demands. His other hand snatches the bottle from Timothy, throwing it to the floor. The pills scatter across the carpet. He towers over Timothy, chest heaving with every breath and fury radiating from his glare. "Do you want to kill yourself?"
"No!" Timothy snaps, finally managing to pull his wrist free. The skin is red and angry, burning from Christopher's bruising grip. He cradles it to his chest with his other hand, taking several steps away. He glares at Christopher, chin held high and voice dripping venom. "I'm trying to live!"
"You're trying to take wolfsbane."
"You don't understand!" he yells, taking a challenging step forward. He can see the alpha bristle, but he doesn't back down. “You could never understand. You're the perfect wolf and the perfect alpha. I'm nothing as a wolf. I've accomplished so much as a human. I've gotten so much further than I ever thought I could! So much further than I ever could as a wolf. It's being a wolf that kills me. Just look at me!" He throws his arms out, gesturing to his swollen belly without touching, hands shaking, as if he can't bear to. He feels his voice cracking. Warm tears have spilled over, staining tracks down his cheeks. He stares down at himself, feeling alienated from his own body. "Pregnant," he hisses, voice lower. "Despised by other wolves and treated like I'm the lowest of the low. Nothing more than dirt. What kind of life is that? What would I be if I wanted to live like that?"
"But it's…it's not…there's life inside you!" Christopher shouts, and Timothy jumps, eyes snapping back up to him. He's shaking, hands curled into fists at his sides. He closes his eyes, breathing deeply. "There's life inside you," he repeats, softer this time, voice nearly cracking with the strain.
He looks…torn up, emotionally ragged and far more vulnerable than Timothy has ever seen him. When he opens his eyes, the beautiful green depths swirl with far too much, making Timothy feel like he's drowning.
"I understand why you don't want to give me another chance." It sounds like it hurts him to say it. There's a waver in his voice, and he nearly sounds defeated. His posture slumps, shoulders heavy with resignation. "I also understand why you don't want to give your wolf another chance. I don't agree with it, and I think it's wrong to kill your wolf, a part of who you are, but I have no right to stop you. I forfeited that right four years ago. And after everything that happened…" he trails off, taking a deep breath once more to steady himself. He turns then, sitting on the edge of Timothy's bed. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, head hung low as he whispers, "I understand why you don't want to be a wolf after what happened. I take full responsibility for that. I ruined it for you, and now we're both paying the price for my pride, but…" He looks up, eyes wide and pleading. Timothy's breath catches in his throat. He's never seen an alpha beg before. "The baby is innocent. It may not be mine, but it's a life you carry. It's part of you."
Timothy's knees are shaking, and he sits on the bed beside Christopher before his legs can give out. He touches his belly, but only gingerly, only the tips of his fingers. "I never asked for this…" he whispers.
"I know," Christopher sighs. "But it happened." He rubs his eyes with one hand, dragging the hand down his face. He sounds tired, and there's not much left of his initial anger. It's fizzled and dissolved into a gentle plea. "It terrifies me that you're killing your wolf," he says, voice strained. "But I can't stop you. What you do to your body is your decision, but…it might hurt the baby. And I don't want you to make a decision you might regret because you're feeling overwhelmed." He looks at Timothy then, green eyes swirling and pleading. "Please don't make this decision lightly. Think about it?"
Timothy tears his gaze away, unable to stand being dragged under that beautiful emerald sea. Instead he looks down at the bulge beneath his shirt. His eyes burn, chest feeling tight as his stomach twists. He knows Christopher is right. That he's overwhelmed and stressed and emotional. Hell, he just found out he was pregnant a couple days ago, and with the trial and the kidnapping and the break in…
"I know." He sighs through his nose, squeezing his eyes tight and trying to will his tears away. He tries to keep his voice level, but he hears it waver. His hands tighten around his belly, wrapping his arms around tight. "I know, but there's been so much going on, and everything is
changing, and I finally had a life I wanted, and now I don't know what to do, and…and I can't feel it." His voice cracks, and he can't help the soft whimper that escapes him. "I know humans can't feel their children like we can, b-but everything in me tells me I should be able to, and I can't."
Warmth wraps around him, and Timothy jumps. He can't get away, however, and opens his eyes to find Christopher has wrapped him up in what can only be a hug. It takes him a moment to process that, startled by the touch. He hasn't been touched in so long. Not by family and he doesn't have any friends. He doesn't like letting others close. But this…this feels…nice.
He lets himself lean into it, allowing Christopher to pull him to his chest. He doesn't hug him back, but in a moment of weakness, he turns his head into Christopher's chest. His scent is powerful and warm, spicy on his tongue but deep, rich and comforting. It settles something inside him, stopping his uncontrollable shaking before it can really get going.
He sighs and relaxes, melting into Christopher's arms as the alpha rests his head on top of Timothy's, hand idly rubbing soothingly up and down his spine.
He doesn't know what to think. He's still reeling, and he's pretty sure the shock is making him numb. It's been an emotional rollercoaster all day, from the moment he woke up. And now this. He doesn't understand, and he's having a hard time processing it.
Since when does Christopher care about him? Sure, he's been taking care of him, but Timothy just thought it was a sense of duty. He expected Christopher to still be mad at him for leaving, choosing to cut him off as a mate. He's seen Christopher's anger and hurt. He knows it's still there, but in this moment, he senses none of it. He feels as gentle and kind as Timothy once dared to believe he was.
He expected to be abandoned for being a weak coward of a wolf. He hadn't expected or prepared for Christopher to ever hold him so tenderly, whispering calming words in his ear as he talked Timothy back from a break down.