Sorcha winced. He had been avoiding them, but he’d hoped it wasn’t obvious. “No. Just busy,” he lied.
“Hmm.” Teal nodded his head. He looked more fatigued than usual.
“Are you okay?” Sorcha asked.
“Yeah. It’s just…” The older omega appeared to search for words. “Have you noticed anything unusual around the neighborhood?”
“Unusual?”
Teal’s posture stiffened. “You know the Bannon case is going to High Court soon?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Well, lots of people, particularly lots of alphas, don’t want it to succeed. I usually get plenty of hate notes, weird texts, things like that. But lately it’s…escalated.”
Sorcha didn’t like the sound of that. “Escalated how?”
“Yesterday, the boys got into some trouble at the pool, and I realized that they’ve become targets, not just me and Ronan. It’s never been an issue before, but I feel the need to be extra careful. That’s why I stayed home today, even though it’s a workday. I want to make sure my family feels secure. If you haven’t noticed anything unusual, that’s good.”
Sorcha thought carefully, but the only threatening thing he’d seen lately was Uncle Dale’s face when Sorcha finished a project late.
“I’m sorry your family is going through that,” Sorcha said. “I’ll keep an eye out.”
“Thank you. Please check in with us or Niall if you notice anything.”
Sorcha again had the distinct impression Niall was more to the couple than their nanny. “Will do.”
Sorcha waited for Teal to leave, but Teal surprised him by taking a step into the garage and leaning against Sorcha’s large toolbox.
“Now that we’ve settled that,” Teal said, crossing his arms, “why don’t you tell me how you’ve really been since we took you to the hospital? I’m particularly interested in why you look like death’s fond companion today, and why you’ve been pale for months.”
“I’ve been feeling under the weather—”
Teal hmphed. “It’s a testament to your strength of mind that you can even pick up a paintbrush these days, let alone a hammer.” He unfolded his arms and used a softer voice. “You can talk to me, little omega. Please tell me what’s going on.”
Sorcha felt the warm tendrils of their omega bond in Teal’s soft tone. More than anything, he wanted to surrender to that comfort. He looked down, brushing his toe along the cement floor. “I think you know,” he mumbled.
“I have a suspicion. But I don’t want to assume. It’s better if you tell me.”
Raising his eyes to Teal’s, Sorcha pointed to the small cup perched on the workbench.
Teal peered into it and nodded, as though confirming what he’d already suspected. “How long have you been taking the suppressants?”
“For a while,” Sorcha hedged.
“How long?” Teal’s voice had an edge to it.
“Sixteen months.”
“Sixteen months?!” Teal clasped a hand over his mouth, looking at the door connecting the garage to the kitchen.
“Don’t worry,” Sorcha said. “My uncles are gone for the day.”
Teal pulled out a folding chair he saw propped against a wall and sat down next to Sorcha. After blowing out a long breath, he said, “Sixteen months is too long. You must know that. Suppressants are for short-term heat blockage, only to be used when you have a very specific reason for needing to delay a heat for a few weeks or months, maybe. Not more than a year.”
“I know.”
“Then why?” Teal’s voice pitched higher. “Long-term usage has been linked to illness, fertility problems, even early death. This is dangerous.”
