The Omega's Secret Pregnancy Page 3

  What if he thinks I tricked him? Felix whimpers, sagging back into his bed. I can’t keep the baby. I can’t afford it. And it’ll only have one parent. Kade never even agreed to it.

  I should wait, he thinks. I shouldn’t panic. Maybe I’m not pregnant. Maybe... maybe abortion might be an option.

  But it’ll also be Kade’s child, a piece of Kade that’ll stay with Felix, when he finally discovers what Felix did five years ago, and turns his back on him for good. Felix bites hard on his lip, cradling his belly. If last night was the final time he slept with Kade, then he can’t regret a child. He’ll have a piece of Kade with him when he leaves Meadowfall again, someone to remember him by. He’ll be gone before Kade even discovers the pregnancy.

  Kade will find another mate to replace Felix, someone who won’t hurt him again, and he’ll have a good life after that.

  Felix buries his face in the pillow, his face crumpling.

  An hour later, Felix pops a heat suppressant and gets ready for his interview.

  At the gas station, the burly alpha manager looks him over, bushy brows drawn low, thick lips pulled in a sneer. But he nods after Felix answers What work experience do you have? Rick shoves his hands in his pockets. “You’ll do,” he says. “You look decent enough. We need to increase the sales here—costs are rising.”

  It’s not like Felix does any good with sales, when his own paintings have been collecting dust, hidden under rags in a spare bedroom. A job is still a job, and it’ll give him shelter for now. “When can I start?”

  “Tomorrow. Uniforms are in the back,” the manager says. “I’ll leave the forms here and you’ll fill them in. Don’t be late. Susan will tell you what to do.” He heads out the doors in a rush of bitter-wood, turning past the storefront posters with a glower. He waddles like a duck, Felix thinks.

  Behind the counter, the beta cashier shrugs, offering a commiserating smile. She smells like fresh-cut grass, her presence calming, and tension drains out of Felix’s shoulders when the manager doesn’t return.

  “It’s a lot better when he isn’t around,” Susan says, tucking wavy auburn hair behind her ear. “And you’ve been marked, which helps you avoid harassment. All you have to do is renew the scenting.”

  Felix cringes. He’s forgotten about that little bonus, after last night with Kade. It always feels like he’s lost his privacy when people can smell who he’s slept with. “Really? Is Rick that bad?”

  “Sometimes.” Susan purses her lips. “I’m not an omega, though. It might be a different case with you—it’s just been me and that slacker kid here for a while.”

  Felix sighs. That figures. At least omegas get treated better in Highton, where employers don’t demand that he have an alpha partner. Here... he’ll figure things out somehow. He doesn’t want to depend on Kade or anyone else. Even if he’s spent most of his time here with Kade. “Have you been working here long?”

  “A few years,” Susan says, glancing along the low shelves lining the store, filled with muffins, pretzels, notebooks, campfire starters. “I’d like to move out of this place, though. Better opportunities out in Highton.”

  Of course there are. Felix sighs, hugging himself. “Same here.”

  Mostly, though, he just wants to leave Meadowfall. It’s a place of mistakes: Kade, and Felix’s dad. Why couldn’t you not be an asshole for once, Father? If you weren’t, then maybe I could have stayed here. He picks at the folds of his shirt, touching his belly. Please don’t let me be pregnant. I can’t face Kade if I am.

  “New here?” Susan asks.

  “I’ve been away for a while,” Felix says, looking up as the doors slide open. A man walks in, covered in road dust and smelling like burnt bark. He glances at Felix, looking him over. Felix sighs, touching his stomach again. You’ll need to eat an extra egg, orange, and a glass of milk to feed the baby, a pregnancy website said. It’ll cost an extra dollar a day. “I have to go. See you tomorrow?”

  “See you,” Susan says, her gaze drifting over to the gas station customer. She gives a small wave. “Take care, okay?”

  “I’ll try,” Felix says.

  A week later, he finds out he’s pregnant.

  Sitting on the toilet, Felix tries not to glance at his phone clock. His heart thuds with dread. He tries playing a game, making a mustached man jump over little red birds. He tries crossword games. He tries connecting jewels in a row, but his stomach twists, and his gaze flickers over and over to the three sticks sitting on the tiled counter, drops of urine scattered between them.

  When the timer goes off, jangling and vibrating the phone, he jumps. The phone clatters across the floor. Damn it, Felix thinks. Do something right, for once.

  He swipes his hands on his shorts, gulping, before scooping the phone up, its warm weight comforting in his hands. Then he closes his eyes, trying not to look at the tests while he approaches the counter, letting his hand trail along cool tile to guide him.

  I won’t be pregnant. I’ll open my eyes and it’ll just be a hallucination. I can still be honest if I bump into Kade.

  But deep down, in his gut, he knows his new alertness isn’t normal. That his body’s new sensitivity to sounds, to heat and light, aren’t happening because he ate something bad.

  Felix presses his hand to his belly and opens his eyes.

  On all three test kits—white, pastel green, egg-yellow—the results are the same. Two crossed lines replicated across three oval windows. Plus. Plus. Plus. Congratulations, you’re pregnant.

  His fingers dig into his abdomen. He staggers to the wall, glancing down at his belly, disbelieving even now. “No,” Felix says. “I’m not.”

  He gathers the sticks, drops them in the trash, and ties the bag up. Walks out to rid it in the dumpster.

  He can’t be pregnant. He doesn’t even have money to feed himself. He wants to throw up, to hide, to crawl along Kade’s body and beg him for a pity fuck.

  Felix squashes the thoughts down. It should be easy enough to forget. He’s been forgetting everything else. But the same sick dread wells up in his throat like bile, and he doesn’t know how he should feel.

  A baby brings untold joy to a family, the TV ads jangle in his mind. Felix closes his eyes, thinking about faded posters in the Meadowfall shops, the cheerful advertisements along the town hall. You’ll never regret having yours.

  “I don’t have a family,” Felix whispers. He has his brother, who flies out of town without notice, and his father, who frowns and wears smiling masks for his business partners. And Kade... he can’t tell Kade. How can Kade possibly grin at this news, when Felix had slapped that ring from his hand five years ago?

  He wanders into the empty living room, weaving between stacks of cardboard boxes. Felix squeezes himself between a wall and a pile of boxes labeled “dishes”. This isn’t happening.

  He stares at the empty corners of the house, at the dirty cream carpet, and touches his belly again. It doesn’t feel any different. It’s still flat, solid with muscle. There won’t be a second pulse beating in him. He’ll continue living life as normal, and nothing has changed.

  After a while, the pretense fades. Felix sucks in a deep breath, then another. He cradles his phone in his hand, unlocking the screen.

  Taylor answers on the second ring, his voice tinted with worry. “Felix?”

  “Hey,” Felix says, feeling as though all his energy has been wrung out of his body. “Are you busy?”

  A pause. If Taylor’s answering, then he has time to talk right now. Felix imagines his brother in a safehouse, eyes on the closed doors and curtained windows, leaning back against a wall. Taylor has always been the one their father favors. He does so much more than Felix can, and he’s so much more capable, even if he’s away most of the time.

  “You aren’t calling to tell me your pancakes burnt,” Taylor says.

  Felix sighs. He’s only rung his brother twice while he’s on a job. “I’m pregnant.”

  “What?”

  “I’m
not saying it again.”

  Taylor’s voice sharpens. “Who did it?”

  Felix sucks his lip into his mouth, closing his eyes. In his mind, he sees Kade grinning at him. Kade’s face, frozen with hurt. “Who else?” he says, and his voice is bitter, sharp-edged. “You bastard, you left me at the pharmacy. He picked me up.”

  Down the line, Taylor sighs, long-suffering. “I told you, I got an emergency call. You went willingly into it?”

  Felix wants to laugh. “I’ve never been unwilling with him,” he says, and to his horror, his voice breaks. “I didn’t expect to see him again, Taylor. I didn’t... I thought I could go without a heat suppressant for just one night. I didn’t... I missed him.”

  Seven days after that encounter, and Kade’s scent is fading from his skin. Felix doesn’t like that it’s going, but he needs to forget Kade. He’s been trying to forget him for an eternity. So much for that. I guess I have a part of you now. He dashes the tears away from his eyes.

  “Thanks for telling me,” Taylor says. Felix imagines him setting a revolver on his thigh, ears pricked for any unnatural sound. Taylor works for a private, secretive organization. And in his new rented house, all Felix has are some paintings and a flimsy contract for a gas station job.

  He tugs at the ragged clumps of carpet at his feet. “It was my fault. I forgot the BC pills for three days straight. I don’t want to start them again.”

  Silence stretches between them for a few moments. “You’re keeping the baby?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you’re going to tell Kade after this, right?”

  “No. I’m leaving Meadowfall as soon as I’ve got some money saved up.”

  “Felix. No.”

  Felix sniffs. “I bankrupted his family, Taylor. He won’t want... I can’t do this.”

  His brother exhales heavily down the line. “Okay, we’ll set that aside for now. Your scent is going to change. Do you have a suppressant for it?”

  Because everyone’s going to smell the pregnancy otherwise, especially Kade. Felix can’t risk that. But he can’t deal with remembering so many things, either. He covers his face. “More pills? I can’t keep track of all of them, Taylor.”

  “Get a pill dispenser. It’s easy. You know what, go to my place. I’ve got some lying around. The scent suppressants are in the study. Second drawer in the desk. I’ve labeled them.”

  Felix sighs. “How are we both omega and you’re so much better at life?”

  Taylor pauses, contemplative. “I’m not trying to forget things, Felix.”

  He flinches.

  “Look, while you’re over at my place, grab some cash. You know the safe combination.”

  “Yeah. But I can’t—”

  “You need to eat better. You know that.”

  Felix pushes his forehead against the wall, closing his eyes. “I’m supposed to invite you over to my new place for dinner, not have you pay for everything.”

  “Take the money,” Taylor says. “It’s not doing anything sitting in a safe.”

  “I love you and hate you at the same time.”

  “That’s okay. But remember to feed yourself and the baby. I can’t believe I’m going to be an uncle!”

  “I’m going to be a father,” Felix says, groaning. It sounds like a humongous mountain he doesn’t know how to climb. “I’m not dad material.”

  “You’ll be a good one,” Taylor says, his tone gentle. Felix closes his eyes, knowing his brother means You’ll be a better dad than our father is.

  “Thanks,” he mumbles, looking back down at his stomach. He imagines the little cluster of cells making its way through his body, attaching itself to him. The embryo that’s half him and half Kade, and he wishes he had Kade’s arms around him right now, pulling him close. Wishes he could hear Kade say I’ll help you through this.

  “I’ve got to go,” Taylor says, his voice hushed. “Take care, okay?”

  Felix gulps. “Will do.”

  The line cuts off. Felix stares at his phone, his cheeks wet. Slowly, he peels himself off the floor, wiping his face. He has goals now. A baby to care for. He can’t disappoint his child, too.

  4

  Kade

  The bike purrs beneath him, a docile, humming beast. Kade turns off the highway, squeezing the brakes to slow down. Next to him, the beginnings of rush-hour traffic cluster at the stoplight, a cacophony of engines growling around him. He flares his nostrils, huffing to rid the oily exhaust fumes in his nose.

  It’s been a week since he saw Felix. A week since he last got any decent sleep, and it makes him uneasy, not knowing when Felix will leave Meadowfall again. He doesn’t know what Felix thinks of him, doesn’t think he should have left, that night. What alpha sleeps with his bondmate and leaves him alone in bed after?

  He rubs the scar on his wrist, thinking about Felix covered in his scent. It’s been years, but the idea of Felix as his gives him comfort, like a missing puzzle piece in his life settling back into place.

  Clearly, Felix hadn’t wanted him to stay the night. Kade had assumed too much years ago, thought he’d known Felix thoroughly, when he hadn’t. He doesn’t even know where Felix is right now. Which is how Felix meant it to be, if he’s not saying anything about meeting again.

  Kade sighs, glancing up when the stoplight changes to green. On the dashboard of his bike, the fuel light comes on, glowing orange. He flicks his turn signal to change lanes, before rolling into the nearest gas station.

  He smells that trace of lavender again, faint as a strand of hair lost on the sheets. He has to get home, pull out the laptop and finish debugging his work’s new application. But he knows that scent. Felix.

  He rides between the filling stations, sniffing. No blonds next to the cars, none lingering outside the convenience store. Kade parks the bike by the door, shuts off the ignition, and strides up, pulse thumping. He can’t possibly expect to see Felix, can’t expect Felix to want to see him again. That had been just a fling.

  The doors hiss open, but the lavender scent lingers, like Felix had visited briefly and left traces of his presence.

  “You don’t have to do much with the credit cards,” a female voice says. “The important thing is that we only take these few, and they’re only for purchases ten dollars or more.”

  “What if they only have a different card?” another voice asks, soft and familiar. It settles the nervous patter of Kade’s heart, even before he glimpses the man behind the counter, the way his green eyes widen.

  Kade’s pulse hammers to life. He sees only Felix, the pink of his lips, the point of his chin, the way his maroon uniform sags loosely around his shoulders. Felix’s throat works. He opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything, and it feels like the first time Kade finds him after five lonely years, like an oasis in a desert.

  The woman next to Felix looks between them, and her eyebrows rise. “Oh.”

  Felix’s gaze drops to Kade’s jacket, his jeans, and he’s gulping, anchoring his eyes on the register. “The credit cards, Susan. Could you explain it again?”

  Susan glances at Kade, then looks back down at the register. “If they don’t have a credit card...”

  Kade wanders around the store, squeezing between the narrow aisles. It feels as though the place was built for kids, or people without broad shoulders. The chip packets rustle against his elbows, and the price-tagged ends of product hooks reach out to gouge his skin. He squeezes through the shelves, grabs a bottle of soda from the fridges, and heads back to the counter.

  “Want to practice ringing it up?” Susan asks.

  Felix gulps. Kade can’t help smirking a little, at the way things have worked out. Even if he doesn’t have Felix back, his bondmate still has to talk to him, and it’s a relief after days of not hearing his voice.

  “Hello,” Felix chirps, in that high, fake tone of his. “How’s your day?”

  “Better,” Kade says, sniffing at him again. It’s only then that the thrill of seeing Felix wears off,
and he realizes: “Your smell is gone.” It feels damn weird, only smelling a fraction of Felix’s scent, when the last days of his heat should be intensifying it. Or was he on the tail end of his heat when Kade met him?

  Felix’s shoulders tense. “I thought it would be better not to have a scent,” he says, beeping the soda with a handheld scanner. His eyes lock on the register. “Is that all for you?”

  It feels wrong, like Felix is avoiding him somehow. Kade bristles. “No,” he says. “There’s more.”

  Forest-green eyes flicker up to his, wary. Kade studies the brittle way Felix holds himself, the mask of his face. It’s not something Kade should mention at his workplace. “How can I help you?” Felix asks, strained.

  “When do you get off work?” Kade says, because to hell with workplace boundaries. Felix is—was—his bondmate.

  Felix opens his mouth, hesitating.

  A guy steps through the doors with a swagger, short with a gray mustache, his shirt stretched over his pot-belly. An alpha, but a lesser one, even lower-ranked than Kade is in this town. He smells like bitter-wood, like decay. Kade steps instinctively between him and Felix.

  The man sniffs, beady eyes snapping toward the counter. “You,” he says, stepping around Kade to jerk his chin at Felix. “Where’s your smell?”

  Felix stares. The other cashier frowns, and Kade’s mouth twitches. Guy’s a damn asshole.

  “Suppressed it,” Felix says, his expression full of thinly-veiled distaste. “Sir.”

  He’s your boss? How dare he talk down to you?

  “I hired you because you’re an omega,” the man says, mustache quivering. “But at least smell like something. Where’s your alpha, huh?”

  “Here,” Kade snarls, heat surging up through his chest. How dare you threaten my omega? He rounds on the manager, pulling his shoulders back, baring his teeth.

  The man’s eyes widen. He backs away, pasting on a cajoling smile. “Come on, now. He’s just an omega.”