Pullinga blanket out of the airing cupboard, Oliver threw it over the snoring omega on his sofa. He’d just about peeled him out of his vomit soaked clothing and helped him pull on some of Oliver’s old pyjamas. His breath was rank, and he had chunks of sick stuck in his hair, but that would have to be a problem for the morning.
Quietly closing the living room door, he sighed and padded to his bedroom. “What a day,” he muttered, tugging off his own clothes.
“Indeed,” Lucas said, returning from the shower and letting the towel drop from his waist. They stood together, dressed only in their underwear, gazing out the bedroom window.
“How the fuck did we get here?” Oliver said, wrapping his arms around the alpha’s waist. “A month and a half ago I was preparing for the trial of Clinton Greer, and now I have you standing in my bedroom, an ex that’s possibly a sex-trafficker and an omega that’s spewed up half his guts on my sofa.”
Lucas chuckled, resting his chin atop Oliver’s head. “A month and a half ago, my team and I were chasing Adrian Moore across Germany. If only I’d known I’d end up bumping into DC Oliver Reed when I returned.”
Oliver grinned. “You’d have stayed in Germany, right?”
When his question was met with silence, he realised the joke had fallen flat. He stared up at Lucas with an expectant expression. The alpha appeared calm as he gazed out the window, but the anxious vibration across their bond stated he was anything but.
“What’s wrong?” Oliver whispered, pushing his face up into his neck.
There was a pause, then Lucas held him tighter. “I…” the words trickled away.
Huffing, Oliver peeled his face away from the alpha’s throat and waited for him to continue. Lucas only sighed and pressed the tip of his nose into Oliver’s hair. “I just… I want you to know, Reed, that even if we never conceive a biological child, I would still choose you. Every time.”
Letting out a long breath, Oliver reached up to brush a tendril of hair behind the alpha’s ear. Lucas caught his hand, kissing his palm. It should have been a tender moment, but Oliver knewpreciselywhat was fuelling Lucas’ uncertainty.
“He’s gotten in your head. Hasn’t he?”
Lucas sighed. “Yes.”
It was then Oliver realised that the alpha wasn’t as stoic as he first thought.Yes, he was quiet,yes; he was strong, reliable, consistent—all the things Oliver lacked. But he wasalso stubborn and passionate…vulnerable. It had been that fiery stubbornness that brought him to West Newton in the first place, and the vulnerability that drew them together. Oliver knew then that he loved Lucas far more than he could ever comprehend.
“Tell me how to make it better,” he whispered, reaching up to cup the alpha’s face. “But be mindful that we have a very unwell omega in the next room.”
Lucas chuckled, brushing his fingers over Oliver’s ribs. He huffed out a breath and said, “There’s one thing, but you’ll find it terribly embarrassing.”
Wrinkling his nose, Oliver took a deep breath and said, “Tell me.”
Lucas sighed and pressed his mouth to Oliver’s forehead. “Could you… put on your white t-shirt. The one you sometimes wear to bed?”
Oliver narrowed his eyes. “It’s in the wash basket.”
“I know. Please?”
So he did, cringing slightly at the week old bodily smells that clung to the fabric.
“Lie down.”
Which, again, he did, eyes doe like as the alpha crawled up from the bottom of the bed. The shadows cast by his chest and shoulders completely eclipsed Oliver in the low light.
He hooked his fingers behind Oliver’s knees, pulling him beneath him until he was completely covered. Then he dropped his shoulders and pressed his head into the crook of Oliver’s neck, rubbing his face across his skin. He inhaled slowly, drawing in Oliver’s scent as though it were the best smell known to man. When he exhaled, his breath warmed Oliver's entire body in one hot flush. He continued to rub his face all over his throat and across his collar bones, raising his arms up so he could rub underneath them too.
There was not an inch of Oliver’s skin that Lucas didn’t scent mark, which was a slow and thorough process, and perhaps even more intimate than being knotted.
“It’s okay,” Oliver whispered, cheeks burning as Lucas worked his way beneath the white t-shirt. “I’m here,” he said, running his hands through the alpha’s hair.
Eventually Lucas stilled, his head still buried under Oliver’s shirt as he pressed his cheek against his stomach. “I love you,” Oliver whispered in the quiet darkness of his bedroom. But Lucas was already asleep.
TWENTY-THREE
CLOAK & DAGGER
Oliver shared some exceptionally stern words with Pember’s mother that morning—so stern, in fact, that he was feeling a little guilty by the time he and Lucas arrived at the police station. Just as they were setting down their bags in the briefing room, an enraged shout punched through the chatter.
