“I didn’t realize I was late.”
“You aren’t. I should have invited you at an earlier time.” Caleb glanced up from his work and motioned Urho closer. “Come here. You can’t see anything from over there.”
Urho slipped around the tables and cabinets, careful not to knock against anything. Every item in the room seemed potentially wet or fragile or both. He took his place by Caleb’s side and watched him work.
Almost absently, Caleb explained what he was doing. He spoke calmly of the process of first etching the stone with chemicals, of the wax that repelled the water, which allowed the ink to remain on only the parts Caleb wanted the machine to print.
Eventually, Caleb was ready to load the stone onto the press, and he surprised Urho with his strength as he maneuvered the weight into place.
“If there’s any imperfection in the stone, the intense pressure from the press will break it.” Caleb placed a thick piece of fresh paper over the block.
“Does that happen often?” Urho asked.
“No. But when it does, it’s a real bitch,” Caleb said. Then he stood back, turned a crank, and the machine began to move. Pulling the crank again, Caleb asked, “When you worked in the labs at the university, did you ever think about how strange it is that some technologies survived the Holy Church’s purge after the Great Death, like the printing press, but other arguably more important technologies, like how to manipulate genes, were lost entirely?”
As the machine bore down on the stone, Urho said, “I suppose the zealots thought printing technology wasn’t as dangerous—and possibly more useful.”
“But what could be more dangerous to us as a species than eradicating the knowledge that allowed the creation of omegas to begin with? And we were made so imperfectly at that! Every birth is a risk to our life.”
“Now you’re blaspheming.” Urho watched as Caleb strained against the crank. He thought about offering to help, but knew Caleb would turn him down.
“Ha!” Caleb smirked. “I suppose I am.”
“But I have no problem with that.”
Caleb smiled then, and it was his sparkly smile from his in-the-house Caleb self. It was good to see it. “I suppose you wouldn’t.”
“The zealots wanted power and they got it by demanding complete devotion to wolf-god. They gave him credit for the appearance of omegas. Questioning that was punishable by death for a long time. The press no doubt furthered their ability to spread the word about what thoughts were allowed and what thoughts must be stamped out.
Caleb sighed, pausing in his work for a moment. “It was so short-sighted, though. I would have thought they’d want to further perfect the salvation of the human race. What could be more useful to them—to everyone—than omegas who could reproduce as easily as human women had before they were lost?”
“I can’t disagree with you. All I know is that the desire to hold on to control and power all too often outweighs common sense.”
Caleb nodded, twisting the crank again to move the weight away from the stone. He carefully lifted the paper and showed the outcome to Urho.
Urho gasped appreciatively. “It’s perfect. It looks just like him.”
“Do you think so?”
“Yes. That’s his face. When he’s worried.”
Caleb contemplated the print. “It’s based on a drawing I did.” He studied Xan’s face framed by a bird’s nest growing from his dark curls. “I suppose you’re right. I have to ask myself is that the right mood for this piece? I wonder if I shouldn’t have aimed for something happier to round out my collection.”
“I think it’s beautiful, but if that wasn’t the expression you were hoping to capture…well, I can’t say. It’s your work. You know better than I do what you were trying to accomplish.”
“I started this piece a long time ago. The drawing it’s based on, anyway.” Caleb cocked his head, looking it over. “I still like the way his dark curls shine, and the bird’s nest is perfect. But, this isn’t who he is anymore. Not since you came.” Caleb smiled and gazed up at Urho questioningly. “Do you plan to stay? Once Vale’s baby comes and my heat is over…? Or will you go and leave him alone again?”
“I don’t know how to answer that question.” He didn’t want to overstep. Xan was Caleb’s alpha, and Lofton was his home.
“Honestly, if you can.”
Urho swallowed hard. “I can’t see a future without him in it. Going back to my house I shared with Riki…the place where the memories of his loss have held me for years? That doesn’t feel right anymore.” A burning ache grew in his belly. “But I understand if you don’t want me to stay. It’s your home and I’m a guest in it.”
“Youshouldn’tbe a guest,” Caleb said firmly, turning his attention back to the print and examining it with narrowed eyes. He hummed under his breath with dissatisfaction and then tossed the paper over his shoulder, letting it flutter to the floor.
“I shouldn’t?”
“No. You should make this your home too.”
