Page 34 of Marked By Love

It hadn’t escaped his attention that Royce had shortened his name. Theodore thought he liked it, not that he would tell Royce that. He picked at the food and sipped his tea. Finally, he had to set his fork down and ask.

“Royce, how did you know I was afraid of hospitals?” he whispered. “I know you tried to get me to go the … however many days ago, but that could have just been me being stubborn or trying to run away from you.”

“The flash drive.”

“Is it still—you didn’t?”

“It’s here. It’s safe in the same tin as your fake documents.”

“So, now you know.”

“We don’t have to talk about it right now. We can wait until you’re better.”

Theodore bristled.

“Wait, like you waited while I was unconscious before you snooped through my private things.” The more he thought, the more his chest swelled, and his thoughts snarled; he wanted to talk, to argue, to vent, to yell and scream and cry.

“You gave me the tin before passing out in a pool of your own blood.” Royce frowned. “Kinda piques the curiosity.”

Theodore winced. He didn’t remember that part. “Why were you stalking me?” He changed the topic. “You said you couldn’t scent me, so why were you stalking me? Why did you break into my home?”

“Because I thought something was wrong with you. I thought you were acting suspicious and that you might be a threat.”

Theodore’s head snapped up. “So you immediately leapt to the worst possible conclusion about a stranger and decided to take matters into your own hands?”

Royce set his fork down with a clang. “Yes, if you really want to get into this now, yeah, that’s exactly what I did. I camped outside the omega house for days. Because my wolf couldn’t scent you or that you’d left the omega house, I sat there for three damn days, illogically waiting for you to leave because that’s the last location I knew you were at. Or the wolf did. Then I chased you out the grocery and followed you here and proceeded to sit in my car—like a fucking creep—trying to figure out what type of threat you were. Happy?”

“Yes, actually.” Theodore surprised himself by laughing. “It seems maybe we’re more suited for each other than I thought.”

“What?” Royce balked.

“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but one doesn’t live on the run with damming evidence like that without telling a soul if they’re the trusting kind.”

Instead of laughing with Theodore, Royce looked pained. His mouth smashed into a thin line, and his brows knit over his eyes.

“My dad was a doctor in Seerinoga,” Theodore said.

“Theo, you don’t—”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” he snapped. It wasn’t Royce’s fault, none of it was, but Theodore’s resentment and frustration were at a tipping point. “I’ve had enough of alphas bossing me, and every other omega on the planet, around for a lifetime. Keeping us quiet, locked up like cattle to be used and disposed of as they please.

“Of course no other alpha dares to believe you when you talk about—you’re made out to be some lunatic conspiracy theorist. All the more reason to segregate us, keep us drunk and complacent in our territories. No one notices what they aren’t allowed to see.

“Out of sight, out of mind. Pay no attention to the weak little omegas when they complain. They just don’t know how good they have it. They must be brain-addled. Pity them but never once actually consider them.”

At some point in his tirade, Theodore had started crying. To his credit, Royce didn’t try to interrupt him with hollow placations of false comforts. He let Theodore yell and shout until the bone-deep enervation caught up with him.

“Would you like another cup of tea?”

Theodore shook his head.

“Hot cocoa? Or a pastry?”

“What? How …?”

“My neighbors, they made some oat milk and dropped it off. I have the ingredients to make cocoa from scratch with it. And the baker, Hershal, he dropped off a box for you this morning.”

That made Theodore cry harder. He didn’t register Royce getting up from the table, but soon enough his nose was aware that something delicious and rich was sitting in front of him.