I growled and threw the wet towel I’d been cleaning the milking chair with onto the seat. I hated that idea. Hated all of it. I didn’t want Gideon with another alpha. I didn’t want him with anyone except me. And maybe Artemis.
That thought sent the air huffing out of my lungs like a fist in the gut as I gathered the basket of food items I’d brought up yesterday and carried it out of the room. What if Gideon had been about to tell me that he was falling in love with Artemis and wanted to pursue a future with him? How could I crush him twice by telling him Artemis had already bonded with me and that the bond would inevitably tear the two of us apart?
I felt really sick by the time I reached the kitchen. Gideon was humming happily in the laundry room off to one side. I couldn’t have felt more different than that if I’d tried.
Gideon evidently heard me puttering and clanking around the kitchen. “Do you think Artemis will be back in time for supper?” he asked from the other room. “If he is, I might make spaghetti. I could really use a bunch of carbs right now.”
“Spaghetti sounds nice,” I called back, my stomach rebelling at the idea. I’d eat it if Gideon made it, though.
The washer slammed shut, the dial cranked, and the sound of water running into the unit started. Gideon walked into the kitchen with a dreamy smile and asked, “Are you hungry now? I could eat a horse. How about sandwiches? Do we have stuff to make sandwiches? Do you think it’s still good after three days? We should go grocery shopping.”
I smiled despite the horrible feeling in my insides. Gideon chattered like a parakeet when he was happy. I loved the sound of it, his voice and the happiness in it. His words didn’t matter.
“I’ll do whatever you want or need, baby,” I said, closing the dishwasher door, then stepping over to kiss Gid’s cheek as he opened the fridge door.
Gideon giggled, then abandoned the fridge to throw his arms around my shoulders and kiss me back.
It felt so good and so right to close him in my embrace and squeeze him tight. The feel of Gideon’s body against mine was the feeling of home. No bond could change that. I slanted my mouth over his, taking control of our kiss and trying to lose myself in it.
I couldn’t. It was like part of me was outside me now, racing farther and farther away as Artemis drove back to the city. If you’d have given me a map, I could have pointed right to where he was.
It made me miserable.
Gideon pulled back, his smile gone. He studied me with a look of deep concern.
“Honey, you’re not okay,” he said, his hands gripping my arms. “You don’t have to be brave for me. I know that heat took a lot out of you. It was so brutal, so raw.”
He shivered. Shivered with lust. I would have found it funny or hot, if I didn’t feel like it was the end of us.
“No wonder you’re feeling out of it,” he said. “Oh! I shouldn’t be touching you. You’re probably really averse to touch right now.”
“No, it’s fine,” I said, deliberately hugging him. “It’s you. I always want you to touch me. I will never be averse to you.”
“It’s probably because I’m an omega, too,” Gideon said, hugging me back.
“It’s because you’re you.”
I dropped my head to rest on his shoulder for a moment, praying this bond wouldn’t tear us to shreds. I didn’t love Gideon a drop less than I had before his heat started. If anything, I loved him more. I knew what it would be like to lose him now, and I knew it would kill me.
“Go sit in the living room,” Gideon ordered me. “Rack out on the couch. I’ll make us sandwiches, and we can watch some TV and cuddle until Artemis comes back.”
I made myself smile. “Okay, sweetheart,” I said.
I kissed him quickly on the lips, then let him go and slogged into the living room. My body felt incredibly heavy as I flopped onto the sofa and searched for the remote. I clicked the TV on, but didn’t bother changing it from the random channel it had been on.
I always felt a little washed out after my heats, even though they were mild and short, but this was different. My body was a complete traitor. It ached and grieved because Artemis’s seed hadn’t taken in me. Never mind the fact that I’d never wanted to have a baby before. I felt like I’d failed some essential duty as an omega.
I felt like an omega, and that hurt. It was part of me, for sure, but I’d never really identified as an omega. Not that way. I mean, I knew I was, but I’d always tried to be more. I’d tried to be the strong one, the one in charge. Now, I was desperate for someone to take care of me. My womb felt alive and hungry for the experience of childbirth. My inneromega kept reaching for Artemis, panicking because he felt so far away.
Who was I anymore? Biology had never mattered to me like it seemed to matter now. Did all these awakened, omega feelings make me someone different than I’d been just a few days ago? I didn’t want to be someone different. I liked myself, liked who I was. I liked my life just the way it was. It felt like everything was ruined now.
“Heats have never affected you so much before,” Gideon said with an almost parental frown as he carried a tray with our lunch into the den and set it on the coffee table in front of the sofa. He sat next to me and curled into me, slipping his arms around my shoulders. “Were you just hiding it from me before or was something different about this heat?”
I turned my head to look at him as cheesy commercial music tinkled from the TV. How could I tell him the truth without breaking his heart?
“I really like Artemis,” I said. I told myself I would work up to it, that my revelation wouldn’t be as bad as I feared it’d be.
“So do I,” Gideon said, his eyes dancing with affection. “I never thought I’d ever feel safe with an alpha again, but he makes me feel protected. Kind of like you make me feel protected.”
