CHAPTER FOUR
Urho sat stubbornlyin the well-appointed drawing room to the right of the fashionable entryway. It wasn’t a room he’d been in before during the few parties Xan and Caleb had thrown over the last year since they contracted together. The furniture didn’t seem to Xan’s taste. It was simple and classic, lacking in the elegant yet quirky self-awareness that Xan’s clothing and furnishings always revealed. Perhaps this room was Caleb’s doing? If so, the omega had timeless sensibilities.
Mid-morning sunlight filtered in through the soft, white curtains, lending a further sense of calm to the room. On another day, Urho would have enjoyed having tea and relaxing here, but his nerves made the lack of fussy details on which to focus his attention nearly unbearable. He crossed and re-crossed his legs restlessly.
The door to the hallway opened behind him, and Urho rose, still facing the window. He crossed his hands in front of him and lifted his chin, prepared to meet Xan in whatever state he found him this morning. Despite having thought of little else all night, he was suddenly speechless without any idea of where to start. So he closed his eyes, waiting to hear how Xan greeted him first.
“Dr. Chase,” a smooth, soft voice murmured. It was pleasant, a quiet tenor laced with an iron undertone Urho recognized. He’d heard omegas wield that attitude on alphas his whole life.
“Mr. Riggs,” Urhos replied politely, opening his eyes and turning to take in Caleb. He wore loose, casual clothing: white pants and a soft-looking white, short-sleeved shirt that opened in a small V to expose his delicate collarbones. His pale arms hung loosely at his sides, an attempt at appearing calm and collected, but Urho didn’t miss the way Caleb’s breath came quickly or how his pulse pounded at the base of his long throat. Urho said, “I’m here to speak with your alpha this morning.”
“Xan is resting.” Caleb called over his shoulder for tea to be brought before stepping farther into the room. His longer-than-entirely-fashionable blond hair hung to chin-length, but the front was combed back from his face and held in place with a sparkling blue-jeweled barrette. His similarly colored eyes cut through Urho like blades. “He isn’t well.”
Urho’s stomach dropped. “I saw him last night. Does he need medical assistance? I’d like to help.”
Caleb’s right brow went up, but he didn’t say anything for a moment as a beta servant, a mere slip of a boy, brought in the tea service and put it on the table before Urho. It wasn’t what Urho would have expected in Xan’s house either. Instead of a quirky, elaborate, and cutting-edge design, the pot was smooth and white. The cups didn’t have handles and were made of the same fragile but plain ceramic white clay.
After the boy left again, Caleb took a seat opposite Urho in a simple cream-colored, tall-backed chair with no arm rests. He crossed his legs carefully, and Urho noticed for the first time that Caleb was barefoot and each of his toenails was painted with some shiny, glittery substance that caught the morning light.
“Let’s cut out the formalities, what do you say?” Caleb looked up at Urho through his lashes in a way that could only be called coy. A very omega thing to do when feeling cornered. “We’ve met often enough to use first names.”
“Of course.” He smiled, trying to grasp onto the familiar back and forth of social graces to dispel the discomfort he’d wallowed in since the night before. He settled back onto his chair. “Call me Urho.”
“And you may call me Caleb.” He relaxed back in his seat, but with the same air as Vale’s cat when she watched birds out the study windows: relaxed but focused, poised for attack. “So, how can I help you, Urho?”
Urho attempted to soften his own body into a more soothing position. He didn’t want Caleb to think of him as the enemy here. “As I said, I saw Xan last night. He was injured.”
Caleb’s cheeks flushed, but his eyes didn’t sway from Urho’s gaze. “Yes.”
“If he requires a doctor’s care, I’m discreet and ready to be of service.”
Caleb carefully poured tea for both of them, his long fingers deft and strong, though they trembled slightly. “I’d like that. However, I doubt he’d hold the same opinion.”
“He’s a stubborn ass.”
Caleb’s smile was swift and surprising. Urho hadn’t been granted it many times in their prior meetings. Xan’s omega had always seemed, if not shy, perhaps cautious. Now his smile signaled a potential opening between them. “He is, yes,” Caleb agreed. “Many people don’t understand that about him. But I’m not surprised you do.”
Urho wasn’t sure who in the world could ever be surprised by a stubborn alpha, but Xan typically turned in a convincing performance of a superficial fop with no substance to back up his mouthy opinions. Between that act, Xan’s bow-ties and the tight pants that hugged his ass in ways that made Urho’s eyes linger too long—not to mention his bright, somehow guileless blue eyes—Urho could imagine many serious men might fail to register Xan’s true nature.
In the morning light streaming through the windows, Urho noticed not for the first time that Caleb was slightly older than Xan. Fine lines started at the corners of his handsome eyes. If Urho had to guess, he’d say Caleb was older by at least five years.
It was unusual for an omega to contract with an alpha that much younger without anErosgapébond to tie them. Not unheard of, but all the same, it was of interest. Why would he choose Xan over other alphas his own age, men who were perhaps a bit older and more established? Surely there had been offers. Especially for an omega of Caleb’s beauty and obvious intelligence.
“Xan admires you, you know,” Caleb said carefully, like he was dipping a toe into the oean to see how cold the waves might be.
Urho’s heart thumped hard, and he frowned, confused by the abrupt heat blooming in him, making him sweat. “It’s not unusual for a younger alpha to look up to an older alpha,” he said, but his voice sounded tight, and he didn’t know why.
Caleb hummed softly, his gaze shrewd as he took Urho in. Shifting on the soft chair, Urho loosened his tie. The room was suddenly stuffy and he wished Caleb would open a window.
Silence clicked between them for a few stilted moments, but eventually Caleb asked, “What do you plan to do with the information you discovered last night?”
Urho’s pulse seemed to grow very slow and yet very loud before bursting into a gallop. He studied Caleb’s calm expression, searching for some sign that Urho might betray Xan’s trust by discussing this matter honestly with his omega, but he found no innocence there.
Caleb’s challenging gaze told him that whatever happened to Xan last night, whatever the truth of it—rape or alpha expression gone wrong—Caleb was in the know about it all. Urho let out a sigh of relief. “I plan to do nothing other than offer my assistance as a physician.”
Caleb nodded, sipping at his tea, and so Urho did the same. The flavor of orange rinds spiced it nicely and he took another, longer sip. The sound of a door opening and closing somewhere above them caused Caleb’s eyes to flick speculatively toward the ceiling, but then he met Urho’s gaze again, holding his silence.
“So what happened last night?” Urho asked after a long moment where they simply drank tea and studied each other, with the occasional break to stare at the patterns the sun made on the floor. “What he told me makes no sense.”
