Slow Heat

by Leta Blake

  But Vale’s life was different.

  “He can’t know about that,” Vale said.

  “This young Jason Sabel, you mean?” Urho asked.

  “Who else? You’ll keep what you know about my past to yourself.”

  Urho swirled his drink and nodded, a frown creasing his forehead. “As you wish.”

  Vale hoped he could count on his friends Yosef and Rosen’s discretion, too.

  A new alpha like Jason would never understand what’d happened and what Vale had been through. He’d never know the insanity of the rebound heat, and the desperate, instinct-driven choices Vale had made. As for the helpless realization that he was carrying an unknown alpha’s child? The risk and pain of the abortion? The shame that still consumed him when those memories surfaced? No matter how their contract negotiations went, Jason couldn’t know about any of that.

  Vale groaned. In so many ways, it would’ve been better if Jason had never found him at all.

  “I could suggest you’re carrying my child,” Urho offered in that unusually canny way he had of coming close to reading Vale’s mind. “We could stage a miscarriage once the damage to your reputation and desirability is done.”

  Appalled, Vale shook his head. “Besides the fact that I’d never agree to lie because I do, in fact, value my reputation, it wouldn’t hold up. A simple examination from a doctor, or, wolf-god, a sniff from any alpha, including my own, would confirm I’m not pregnant.”

  “I could impregnate you on your next heat if you hold off contracting that long.”

  “Putting protocols aside, and the many ways impregnating me at this juncture would violate them, you don’t want a child with me.”

  “I don’t not want it.” Urho’s voice was tender, affectionate.

  “Well, that’s a compelling reason to reproduce if I’ve ever heard one!”

  What they shared had been good for them both—affection, sex, friendship. But neither had ever wanted more than that. Vale had his own life and so did Urho—and of course, Urho had his memories of Riki. Reproducing with an alpha who’d known a true bond seemed an insult both to Vale and to Urho’s lost omega.

  “If it’s about the scar tissue, I know ways to induce the labor early and you’d probably live through the event.” Urho frowned again. “It would be risky for the babe, though.”

  Vale scoffed. “As if I’d put you in that position after all you’ve been through? No, Urho, I won’t risk any of that. You told me once that giving birth was not in my cards now, and that opinion has been confirmed by every doctor I’ve seen since. Let’s not go to drastic measures.”

  Urho sighed. “You’re important enough to me to try anything.”

  “You’re trying so hard to help me, going beyond your usual comfort zone, even, and I appreciate it.” Vale smiled at Urho, affection burning in his heart. “But has it occurred to you that it’s possible I don’t need your help?”

  “So you’re going to just submit?”

  “Like the omega I am?” Vale challenged him.

  Urho sighed. “You’re not just any omega, Vale.”

  “Every omega is ‘not just any omega’. Even if we all abide by the same laws and the same nature.”

  “You’ve built a whole life! To see it dashed at the feet of this young idiot is—”

  “That’s my alpha you’re insulting,” Vale said quietly, poking at the embers again.

  “How can you roll over and leave it all up to him? How can you let him choose whether or not he wants you?”

  Vale shot Urho a wry glance. “Those are nearly revolutionary questions, my friend.”

  Urho huffed, looking away and out into the dark, overgrown garden. “I know my usual stance is that omegas belong with alphas, and vice versa, and that our laws exist for a reason, but dammit, Vale, that’s when things work out the way they should.”

  “The way they did for you and Riki.”

  “Yes.”

  Vale let the words hang in the air for some time, letting the truth set in without having to say it aloud: not everyone got to be Urho and Riki. Some, like Vale, got years of unbonded independence and now this mess. Finally, he reassured Urho the best way he knew how. “I’ll have some say in it. The law doesn’t require me to sign a contract holding terms I can’t abide—and he’ll want me to be happy with the terms.”

  “Omega persuasion,” Urho said.

  It was a kind of slur, the implication that omegas used their sexual thrall over alphas and their alpha’s intrinsic need for omega approval to get their way. But Urho said it with an affectionate remembrance that took away the sting. He’d obviously enjoyed being in Riki’s thrall.

  “He’ll have his parents to argue for his best interests. I’ll have only myself.”

  “And me. And Yosef. Rosen would likely come to be at your side, too.”

  “Yes. I can’t imagine he wouldn’t.”

  “Don’t be so stubborn as to go face this child’s parents and attorney alone. You against a wall of them? Omega persuasion only goes so far. He’s a pup. He’ll cave to whatever his parents want.”

  “Maybe. You never know.”

  Urho grunted.

  Vale pondered. “Have you ever known of another incident like this? I know they exist in the records, but, personally, have you known an alpha and omega pairing this distant in age cohorts?”

  “In the military, when I was a young medic, there was a commanding officer whose omega was twenty-five years his junior, and not a surrogate. Érosgápe.”

  “And?”

  “And the omega was a hot piece of tail. A sweet-looking thing, and—”

  “Urho, if this is going to be a lurid and offensive tale about interminable heat in an omega, I will stab you with this hot poker.”

  “Well, the older alpha did have his work cut out for him. He enlisted the aid of some alpha friends when his stamina ran low. It cut into his ego, but he did it out of love for his omega. I imagine you wouldn’t have that same trouble as the receiving partner, so long as you make enough slick.”

  “Wolf-god, you bring it around to sex every time. I meant more than that. Were they happy? Did they love each other? You say your commanding officer loved his omega, that they were Érosgápe, but was it everything any other bond would be?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t ask. I was obsessed with getting back to Riki at the time, so I didn’t spare much thought outside of the titillation of their sexual situation. I guess they were pretty much the same. I always wondered what became of the omega once his alpha died. There’s no way he didn’t outlive him.”

  “Unless he died of an illness or accident.”

  “Or took his own life.”

  “Wolf’s own hell! What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I just know when Riki went, I thought about it. It’s a common thing with bonded pairs when one dies. I’m sure it would go the other direction, too.”

  They’d never talked so much about Riki’s death in all the years they’d been friends. Most of Urho’s mentions of his omega were of happy memories or funny stories. He usually steered away from the gloom.

  “Well, I suppose if Jason Sabel chooses to contract with me instead of taking on a breeding surrogate, then I’ll discover the strength of this attachment for myself.”

  Urho went quiet again, his expression moody and distant.

  “What now?”

  “Érosgápe isn’t what you expect.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “It’s not instant. It’s a gradual thing. He’s already imprinted on you and that’s the most instant part. And you’ve felt the pull of the bond, but the actual ties of it? They only strengthen over time, even if you contract. Érosgápe is just another word for deep love.”

  “Oh?”

  “In my experience, anyway, and others I’ve talked with.”

  “I find that hard to believe.” He already felt the answering tug toward his alpha. It didn’t feel like love. It felt like an unexpected addiction—
needful and cloying.

  “Imprinting isn’t love at first sight, but it’s close. Érosgápe is what happens after, when you’ve signed the contract, consummated, and learned who the other person really is. Or, in some cases, when the contract draws out, Érosgápe can happen over the courtship time, which, in your case, I encourage you to make as long as possible. Give the kid time to grow up and make smart choices with his brain, not dumb choices with his dick.”

  “Are you calling me a dumb choice?”

  “I’m calling this a complicated situation that jumping your bones won’t solve.”

  “Fair enough.” Vale sighed, placed the poker back into the fireplace utensil holder, and finally sat down on the sofa. The fire had warmed the leather so that it felt cozy against his back. “Another word for love, huh? Why did we create a different one? Wasn’t love enough?”

  “Nah. Love’s a lot of things. Hell, you and I love each other, even if we have no instinctual urge to bond. And you loved your parents and you love your ugly cat.” He nodded toward the ball of silver fur beneath Vale’s desk where Zephyr slept—very much beautiful and entirely female, as only non-human creatures still were. “But Érosgápe is forever and it’s written into law. When you’re Érosgápe, it’s love at a new level, a new, unbreakable permanence. But there’s no click or sudden shift for omegas. It creeps up on them until they realize, damn it all, I’d die for him. Not just theoretically, but actually. Both alphas and omegas would tear out their guts for the other and put them on a platter if it meant their partner’s life and happiness.”

  Vale closed his eyes. “My pater died trying to save my father from being run down by a fire truck. It hit them both.” He’d never told Urho that before. He’d only said his parents had died in an accident. Urho, experienced with grief, had accepted that as enough. “But he’d have done the same for me. The love can’t be that different.”

  “I don’t have more words to help you understand,” Urho said thickly. “It’s different than any other love, it’s instinct-driven, and it’s coded into law. It’s physical and it’s spiritual. That’s why it needed a word. When you’ve experienced it, you’ll know. It’s slow and sudden all at once.”

  “Do you feel more afterward?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you feel more whole?”

  “Ha.” He swirled his drink and took a large swallow. “No. It’s more like walking around all the time fully aware of your deficit and greedily hungering to fill it with your Érosgápe, but never fully accomplishing a melding of souls. But you come so close during heat and breeding that it’s like heaven for hours at a time.”

  Vale poked at the fire and asked the question he’d held back for years. “How did Riki die?”

  Urho stilled, and for a long moment Vale thought he wouldn’t answer. “Miscarriage. The child was quite far along. Malformed with a large head. The babe wouldn’t come free. Riki hemorrhaged to death. I couldn’t stop it.”

  Vale shuddered at the burden Urho must carry. “I’m sorry.”

  “Birth is always dangerous for an omega. No matter their age. When I was a full-time medic, I saw plenty of omega births go the wrong way. And when I volunteer in the slums now, I see all kinds of outcomes.”

  “I don’t know how you do it. How do you stand to see so much gore and death?”

  “Birth is beautiful when it goes well. And when it doesn’t go well, I’m needed.” Urho shrugged. “Like I said, it’s always dangerous for omegas. I can’t turn my back on that. What would Riki’s life be worth if I didn’t try to help?”

  Vale’s heart warmed, and he swallowed down a lump in his throat.

  Urho went on, “Omega bodies were created, not by wolf-god like the holy books say, but by humans. Had the divine had a hand in it, no doubt he’d have made omega bodies more durable and childbirth easier. Your hips aren’t wide enough for large babies to pass through easily. And the rectum has a terrible tendency to tear. And then it’s all too common for an omega to go septic.

  “The odds of a healthy live birth for you at your age and with your scar tissue are a bit terrifying to consider. Especially if you don’t induce early, as I suggested.”

  Vale’s heart clenched, even though he knew it was true. “Tell it like it is, Urho. Spare no thought for my feelings.”

  “I spare plenty of thoughts for your feelings, my friend. It’s your life I’m frightened for, and I don’t know if that young alpha will understand the loss to the world at large if you were to die in childbirth.”

  “So dramatic. The world won’t miss my little poems.”

  “Dammit, I meant your friends and students missing their friend and teacher. But when it comes to your poetry, of course the world would lose out. Your poetry is the highest expression of what it is to be human, Vale. Don’t underplay its importance.”

  “You’re so in love with me.” Vale laughed. “Don’t deny it. Not as Érosgápe, obviously, but as something deeper than a friend. No one who wasn’t in love with me would feel so passionately about my scribbles. And, yes, I share your attachment after all these years. But seriously, Urho? My poems are just one of thousands, if not millions, of so-called ‘high expressions of humanity’. The man studying the ‘language’ of woodland rats, spending years on his stomach with a tiny microphone hoping to make sense of their chatter, is every bit wildly, deeply human as the idiot in his study making words fit together prettily by night and by day teaching students not to slaughter basic grammar. Probably more so.”

  “Promise me you won’t contract with this child without showing him your poems, and if he doesn’t appreciate them, if he can’t see their value, don’t give yourself over to him. Refuse. Say the terms aren’t tolerable. It’s your right by law.”

  The idea of showing the vibrant young alpha who’d accosted him in the library his poems seemed absurd, more absurd somehow than contracting with and fucking him. Maybe that was what Urho meant about the bonding of Érosgápe being slower than the instinctive imprinting between omega and alpha.

  “Promise,” Urho urged again.

  “I love you, too, dear friend.” Vale said, smiling tiredly and pointedly not promising a damn thing. “I love you very much.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Jason woke up in his old room at his parents’ house and stared at the blue sky outside the window. His heart kicked against his ribs rapidly, as his mind scrolled through the events of the day before.

  Rolling onto his side, he curled up in a ball as a gripping rush of excruciating joy and longing hit him. He’d been dosed the night before with alpha quell. A drug created to help alphas remain civilized through the first wave of imprinting should they be unable to secure their omega’s contract immediately.

  It wasn’t an unpleasant drug experience, though not as fun as the low-key hallucinogen he and Xan had scored off upperclassmen a couple of times in high school. That’d been hilarious and weird with little dancing flowers following him around and birds that spoke to him Old World Italian.

  Alpha quell, on the other hand, was like a calm, cool breeze in his veins. It made the world less intense now that his alpha imprinting hormones had been triggered, but it didn’t make him useless like the suppressant used by the security guards at the library. Just relaxed. It’d definitely helped him put his excitement and fears aside last night so he could fall asleep, but now it was wearing off.

  Energy trembled inside him. He wondered what his omega was doing, where he was now, how he felt about what had happened.

  Chancellor Rory hadn’t seemed too optimistic the day before, and the police who’d interviewed Jason for his statement had seemed to pity him in some way he didn’t fully comprehend. Then there had been the heated, urgent whispering of his parents the night before. He’d wanted to stay awake to eavesdrop on their conversation, but after they’d plied him with alpha quell and a rare glass of wine, he’d been so drowsy he’d let Father lead him up to bed.

  He remembered the way Father’s han
dsome face had lined with sudden exhaustion as he’d tucked Jason in with his usual gentleness.

  “It’s going to be all right, son,” he’d said, smoothing a hand into Jason’s hair and dropping a kiss onto his forehead, just like he had when Jason was a little boy. “We’ll make this right for you.”

  Pater had appeared in the doorway, a drink in hand—whisky, which meant he was stressed—and Father had risen to join him. They’d both stared in at Jason from the open doorway, black silhouettes illuminated by yellow hallway lamps. He’d fought to stay awake, wanting to climb out of bed and follow them through the house, to their wing, and listen outside their door.

  Even in his groggy state, he’d known he was an alpha facing an unusual situation, and he couldn’t let them treat him like a child. No omega would be impressed by that. Especially not an older one. He’d need to be strong and ready to lead. But to do that, Jason had to know things, and his parents weren’t giving him all the facts. Just the ones they thought he needed to hear.

  But sleep had gobbled him up greedily and spit him out in the morning light. The same light that now crept across the floor of his room. Shadows of tree limbs tossed in the autumnal breeze filtering in through the open window and cooling the room.

  He sat up cautiously but the wine and alpha quell hadn’t left him with a tender head like the bottle of brandy Xan had stolen from his father’s liquor cabinet and snuck into their dorm room on their first day of college. They’d drained the whole thing, then fucked, and then fucked some more. Jason had found it hard to come after consuming so much liquor, but Xan had behaved as wantonly as some of the omegas in their educational videos.

  But the morning after had been awkward, with Xan vomiting everywhere and Jason’s head a bruise on the inside.

  Not to mention Xan’s usual guilt…

  He turned to his bedside table and discovered a glass of water and four more alpha quell pills. They glinted in the sunlight. They were blue, and the size of small beads strung on a child’s necklace. He first wet his mouth with the water and then took the pills in hand. He studied them.