Urho sighed. “I shouldn’t talk about things I don’t understand.”
“You shouldn’t, and yet you so often do.”
“I’m sorry.”
Vale’s smile was a wonderful reward. Urho missed the days when it was aimed at him alone, usually before they spent a rowdy and raunchy evening wearing nothingbuttheir smiles. Jason imprinting on Vale in the library four years earlier had put an end to that side of their relationship, and Urho still missed it.
Not that he’d been celibate in the intervening years. Far from it.
He was often enlisted to help in the heat of uncontracted omegas or the occasional nymphomaniac—an omega suffering from insatiable lust. Interminable heat was the new name for the disorder, but Urho preferred the old-fashioned term since it allowed for a broader interpretation. The distinction was something he and Vale had vehemently disagreed on in the past, and probably would again in the future.
Regardless, he had ways of getting his physical needs met, but it didn’t mean he didn’t miss their old camaraderie and sexual connection. He smoothed a hand through his hair and said, “You’re in good health. Jason’s cooking has done you well.”
“He spoils me.”
Urho had to agree with that. It wasn’t common for an alpha to cook or clean, the home being the purview of omegas since the time after the Great Death. But Jason’s alpha father had been more egalitarian with his omega than most. Jason had adopted his father’s ways and taken them to the extreme—doing most of the cooking or cleaning himself, and letting Vale idle in spoiled splendor.
Jason’s footsteps entered the room and the woody, comforting scent of chamomile filled the air. He balanced a teapot and three mugs on a tray, the epitome of a doting alpha waiting on his ailing omega.
A prick of envy was followed quickly by a well of bittersweet longing. Urho remembered the days he’d nursed Riki through seasonal colds and the occasional stomach virus. Holding his sweet, young love’s body close—heedless of contagion or fear and only desiring to impart comfort—had been a gift he hadn’t known to cherish at the time.
The loss of Riki burned him deeply, a pain he couldn’t always ignore. His nerve endings endlessly sought the man who’d been their completion, the man who’d died trying to birth Urho’s only son—the same son who’d died with his pater during that horrible, late-term miscarriage. Even loving Vale had only dampened the pain so much.
Urho’s throat clogged with emotion, watching as Jason smoothed fingers over Vale’s cheek before he turned to offer Urho a mug of tea.
“Thank you, but I should be on my way,” he said gruffly.
“But what about Vale?”
“Would you like me to stand over him and watch him night and day for any signs of trouble?” Urho chuckled.
Jason’s eyes flared dangerously. “No, but I thought you’d be here if we need you.”
“I’m just a quick car ride away. There’s no reason to expect any problems at this juncture.”
“Whenshouldwe expect problems?” Jason asked, sitting down at Vale’s side, his own mug of tea steaming, unsipped, in his hand.
“I’d say things might grow more difficult for Vale in the mid months, as his body struggles to cope with the child’s growth. It’s a large stressor on every omega, no matter their health. Despite our ancestors’ best efforts to design omega bodies to bear children, there is a limit to the changes they were able to bring about. Omega hips are narrower and their womb less robust than those of the human females in the days before the Great Death.”
As Jason grew pale again, Urho left off the reiteration of dangers facing even healthy omegas, and decided to discuss the potential discomfort ahead instead. “Vale’s scar tissue might prove painful during the high-growth months. Jason, you’ll need to continue to stretch him internally. Regular, daily massage with your fingers and even your fist, if he can bear it, will be key to making this pregnancy and birth as easy as possible.”
“And you’ll induce him when?”
“When the time is right.” Urho was going to have to wing that aspect of it. He wanted to allow the child as much time as possible to grow strong in hopes of sparing Jason and Vale the pain of a stillbirth, but he wasn’t going to allow it to grow large enough that Vale wouldn’t survive. His scar tissue was more flexible now, but it only had so much give, and if he were to tear…
“I promise not to let it go too long.”
Jason’s jaw tightened, and he darted a glance at Vale before whispering, “We could still abort.”
Vale huffed.
“Yes, but I think your omega has made his wishes known,” Urho said.
“What about my wishes? As his alpha? As hisErosgapé?”
“You’ve made those wishes known as well. Your priority is Vale. So is mine. We’re all on the same page.” Urho infused his voice with warning.
Jason put the mug aside and stood. “I’ll walk you out.”
