Chapter 22: Alden - Wrong Date, Right Mates
By Thalia Flume
The rain cleared before we left the lab, but the streets are still wet. Wispy mist hugs the Pacific Ocean beneath the near-twilight on my left.
“What are we going to do if he doesn’t agree?” I whisper on the drive home, stroking Elliott’s auburn curls while he dozes in my lap. He only opened his eyes for a few seconds when we told him we would drive him to our place, then shivered and went back to sleep.
“We could kidnap him?” Tyler meets my gaze in the rearview mirror.
I roll my eyes with a scoff. “Okay, Dr. Consent King.”
Tyler slows to a stop at the last light before our street. “Fine. We’ll court the hell out of him.”
“I thought we would court him regardless.”
Elliott whimpers in sleep. The fresh scent of his slick fills the car. The orange blossom still smells as delicious as always, but it’s weaker.
“I don’t like the idea of him going into heat when he already seems so frail,” I say.
“He’s with us now. We’ll take good care of him.”
“We should have done it your way,” I say.
Noel called a couple weeks ago and said he thought there was something wrong with Elliott. Depression or a chronic illness. Maybe both? Tyler wanted to make a house call, but I figured Elliott might be more open to our proposal if we let him come to us.
“My way could have pushed him further away.” Reassurance fills the car with Tyler’s ocean scent. “You’re an amazing alpha.”
“No, you.” I wink.
The light turns green, and I tighten my arm around Elliott.
It’s so surreal to have Elliott resting in my lap like he belongs there, like we’re a pack already. And even more surreal to have my best friend be my mate. Tyler has been so busy at the lab, but we spent the first few weeks after we got together living in bed, hibernating and growing closer in this new, deeper way.
I hate that our little omega struggled without us. But I’m grateful for the gift he gave us. Tyler spent so much time loving me while I was with someone else, and we both were in no place to share each other. But now we’re ready for our omega.
Tyler parks the car in our narrow driveway.
“Elliott.” I rub his shoulder. “We’re home.”
He inhales and rolls onto his back, but doesn’t wake.
I feel Tyler’s worry through the bond as he turns off the car and gets out, slamming his door shut behind him.
Elliott flinches awake, hazel eyes wide until he finds my face.
“Sorry,” Tyler says, opening the back door more gently.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
“A little better,” he says in a near whisper.
“Good. Tyler’s going to carry you in, if that’s alright?”
Elliott swallows, then nods.
Tyler and I exchange glances. We’d expected a fight. Tyler bends his long frame to reach inside the car as I unbuckle Elliott’s seatbelt. Then together, we help Elliott move slowly into a seated position. Elliott sways, then leans toward Tyler’s open arms and collapses against his chest.
Poor Elliott.
Ty scoops our omega up and carries him inside, then lowers him onto the bed.
“My shoes,” Elliott says, and tries to sit up.
“We’ll take care of them.” Resting my hand lightly on his chest is all it takes for him to give up and lie back on the bed.
Over the next few minutes, we strip Elliott’s clothes and our own, and climb in on either side of him, holding him skin to skin as he trembles, but not with fever or his heat. His skin is cool to the touch.
“I feel terrible,” Elliott says.
I click my tongue. “I’m sorry.”
“Mate sickness is kind of like taking a puppy away from his mother before he’s ready.”
“I am not your puppy,” Elliott says.
Tyler hushes him. “This is the best thing for you, right now.” He grabs his tumbler from the bedside table and holds the straw against Elliott’s lips. “Drink.”
Over the next few hours, we hold Elliott while he naps, and coax him into draining Tyler’s water and eating a bowl of Cotton Candy grapes. His temperature stabilizes until he’s no longer trembling. His gaze becomes lucid, and he’s able to sit up without feeling nauseous.
By the next morning, he’s able to eat breakfast in bed, and his scent has strengthened.
I kiss his neck. “You’re going into heat soon.”
Goosebumps light up beneath my lips.
“I’m nervous,” Elliott whispers.
“Me too,” I say. “The last time you went in heat, you disappeared.”
“That’s not funny,” Elliott says.
“I agree,” Tyler says, squeezing the side of Elliott’s neck, emanating calm. “Alden has a terrible sense of humor.”
I narrow my eyes.
Tyler smirks, and nips the other side of Elliott’s neck.
Elliott whimpers, and tips his head back.
“Careful, omega.” I lower my hand to his thigh and slide upward toward his cock. “You don’t want to give Tyler the wrong message.”
Tyler meets my gaze, eyes dark and filled with hunger, as he sucks Elliott’s neck, no doubt leaving a hickey.
Elliott moans, pretty cock grazing my hand as his hips gyrate, seeking friction. The scent of his sweet slick fills the nest we recreated in the bed Tyler and I share.
“What if it’s not the wrong message?” Elliott says.
Tyler stills, then lifts his mouth from Elliott’s neck. “Explain.”
Elliott nibbles his bottom lip, cheeks flushing crimson. “You said if I were your mate, it might help me feel better.”
“I did,” Tyler says. “But joining our pack will take a lot of the edge off. Or maybe my hypothesis is wrong, and it won’t help at all.”
“Do you think you’re wrong?” Elliott asks.
Tyler shakes his head. “There’s no rush to decide. We’ll help you through this heat and whatever comes after.”
“But my heats could be less frequent if we mate?”
“Case studies seem to indicate so,” Tyler says evenly.
“Is this some sort of reverse psychology?” Elliott asks me.
“Tyler would never manipulate you into agreeing.”
“I’m happy to beg, though.” Tyler kisses Elliott’s neck again, gently rutting his cock against his hip. It’s so sexy seeing my best friend so turned on by our omega.
Elliott shakes his head. “I don’t want to join your pack.”
My heart sinks. “Of course. We under—”
“No. I mean, I want to be your omega,” he says.
“What?” I sit up.
Elliott laughs shyly. “You heard me.”
Tyler is still. So still. But I feel his wary excitement through our bond.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“This is a huge decision,” Tyler says. “Breaking our bond will take a lot out of you if you change your mind.”
It would break our hearts too.
“I know. Trust me, I wouldn’t do that to you. I see the way you love each other, and I want that love with you too. Plus, you feed me expensive produce.” He pops a grape into his mouth.
“Really?” I ask.
“Stop trying to talk him out of it,” Tyler teases.
Elliott nods. “I want you to be my alphas.”
“Last chance, omega,” I say.
He lifts his chin. “Do it.”
Tyler and I trade glances. I climb onto Elliott’s lap and bow my head at the same time as Tyler cranes closer, and together, with little fanfare or foreplay, Tyler and I claim our mate.