Page 52 of Marked By Love

“That’s … not right.” Theodore felt like an idiot for saying that, but he didn’t know what else there was for him to do. Imagining Royce, alone, terrified, while everyone expected him to be a stoic alpha regardless; he didn’t like it.

“Kinda like how I don’t agree with how omegas are treated.” Royce sighed. “I appreciate the sentiment, Theo, but that isn’t exactly something that’s going to change anytime soon. That’s one of the reasons I left the larger settlements and sought out small towns. Most of them have their issues, but others are … nice, almost. Happy little communities.”

“Sounds like a greeting card.”

“Yeah, sometimes,” Royce said. “Hey, Theo, why don’t you want a mate bond?”

“Well, living in perpetual fear for my life while moving from town to town every three months isn’t exactly an ideal way to live.”

“So once this gets resolved, you’ll want one? And you know I’ll keep you safe, no matter what.”

Theodore wanted to believe Royce’s words. In a way he did. Alphas were fiercely protective of their fated mates, but that didn’t always get displayed in a healthy way. He’d known of one too many omegas who lived under house arrest and the constant eye of their wrathful alphas. He didn’t think Royce would be like that per se, but he didn’t know him well enough to be certain.

“Not necessarily,” Theodore said after deliberating. “I’ve noticed a lot of people seem to view fated mates as a fairytale. My best friend in veterinary school was forced to drop out in our last year because her fated mate was so controlling. She’d been dating a beta, they were happy. The alpha almost killed the beta in a fit of rage, ended up paralyzed, and the alpha never faced consequences because it was the ‘mating frenzy.’

“It’s more than that though. It’s the uncertainty coupled with the knowledge that I have no choice in the matter. I don’t like it. I don’t like not having a say in my own life, control over my own body. It makes me feel like I’m not a person … It’s nothing personal against anyone specific. It’s the whole concept.”

“If that’s how you view it, then yeah, it sucks. Your poor friend, her alpha sounds like a dick.”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“Yeah …” Royce was quiet for a long time. “My neighbors, did I mention Evea and Sandy, they’re both alphas. They met working on forest conservation. They didn’t choose to fall in love, but they did. But after that, they did choose: to put each other first, to show up for each other every day, to be there no matter what. That’s the way my parents were too. Even though they were fated mates, they chose to make room and be there for each other.

“That’s the way it’s supposed to be. That’s the way it should be—always. Besides, you might feel like you’re not a person, but you have a career, a calling, you have a purpose in life. That’s gotta count for something.”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“No.”

“Do you?”

“No.”

The more Theodore learned about Royce, the more his heart bled for him. This alpha was chasms of sorrow and loneliness after decades of being forced to put on a front. Theodore wondered what Royce would be if he hadn’t had the expectations of strength and stoicism thrust upon him at a young age.

And his parents had been fated mates, happy ones at that; it’s no wonder the guy was so eager to mate mark Theodore. He saw it at the beginning of forever. Theodore saw it as the end.

It was the middle of the night, and Theodore couldn’t sleep. His joints were aching to the point of agony, his skin was sticky and cold with sweat, his body trembling and needy.

Heat symptoms were unbearable. Dr. Shera had been over after dinner to take blood samples and check on his progress. She mentioned this heat was going to last longer than normal because he’d been on the alpha birth control for so long. Instead of twenty-four to forty-eight hours, he was looking at close to four days, maybe longer. She couldn’t say for sure.

He was doing his best to keep it to himself, not touching Royce at all that evening, lest he lose control of himself again. Theodore had resorted to holding his breath when in close proximity to Royce to avoid scenting his alpha musk while they were cleaning up the kitchen and putting away the zucchini chili.

Shifting positions on the sofa, a fresh wave of slick squirted out, coating his skin and soaking his pajamas. His efforts were clearly not working.

He hated this, and he couldn’t take it anymore. Not bothering to grab his glasses, it was too dark to see regardless, he slipped from his nest of blankets on the sofa and padded around Royce sleeping on the ground to the main bedroom. Royce was sleeping, wasn’t he? Theodore wasn’t positive and didn’t bother to check, he was too frazzled. If he were to survive, he needed his duffle bag. They were all in here. Opening one after the other, his fingers searched blindly.

He was positive he still had it … there!

His fingers touched the weird soft-hard texture of silicon. He removed the teal colored, jumbo, knotted dildo. Yanking his pants to his knees, he abandoned all decorum and sanitary practices and shoved it inside. Heat making him utterly frantic; he got at least three inches in with that first thrust with no prep.

Muscles unwinding, he could breathe again. The relief, however, was not only minimal but temporary. Theodore was in the middle of wiggling himself just right to force more of the toy inside when a blurry shadow appeared in the door.

His heart stopped, and his mouth went dry. The scent of oranges and storm clouds engulfed him, and he was almost knocked over. In the darkness, he saw a flash of gold.

Darn it! Was Theodore’s scent that strong that it alerted Royce to what was happening? The answer was staring down at him, taking in grinding breaths. Yes, yes, it was.

“Wa-what are you doing?” Royce rasped.