Текст книги "Heat for sale"
Автор книги: Ursa Dox
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Классическое фэнтези
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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 12 страниц)
excitement, his jowls shaking with each step, and his voice high-pitched with joy. “He’s beautiful, lovey. He’s perfect. What will you name him?”
“Calm down, old man, or you’ll give yourself a heart attack,” Heath muttered, though his eyes remained suspiciously wet.
Adrien had been in too big of a state of shock—what with an infant having just shot out of his asshole—to really absorb it earlier, but he was starting to feel it now: Heath had been so moved that he’d cried. Good God, they were both ridiculous. And in love. And now in love with this baby, too.
Adrien’s heart soared. He’d never known such happiness could exist.
How could his omega parent have walked away from this? Sure, his father hadn’t been like Heath, but he’d been a good man, and…
He cut his thoughts off. That didn’t matter. He and Heath would raise this baby together. They’d make more. They’d never part. It was bliss of the highest order, and the only sad thing in the world was that not everyone was lucky enough to experience it.
He’d have to call Ron Finch and thank him for setting up the auction, for encouraging the breeding option, and for making him sound so appealing in the write-up. It was absurd to contemplate that had it not been for all of that he would be at university right now thinking about Hontu fabric and not holding his baby son.
Thank God Heath had won him!
“Yes, yes,” Simon said, making an obvious effort to calm down. He approached the bed again and stared down at where the baby was latched on, gobbling away, his little mouth and cheeks moving adorably. “He’s handsome. Looks like you both.”
“Does he?” Adrien put his glasses on so he could see his son a bit better.
“I think he looks like Heath.”
“Dark hair, same skin tone,” Heath said agreeably. “But that nose and chin are all you.”
“Maybe. He’s so scrunched up. How can we really tell?”
Simon reached out a single finger and smoothed it over the baby’s thatch of dark hair. “He’s wondrous.”
“And you thought it was a bad idea,” Heath grumbled.
“I did not!” Simon protested. “I thought the plan was a bad idea…” He trailed off, glancing at Adrien and then back at the baby again. “No matter. I was wrong. This little miracle was a wonderful idea.”
“But you posed a good question,” Heath said. “What should we call him?”
Adrien’s stomach flip-flopped, and he gathered his nerve to make his suggestion.
“Yes?” Heath encouraged him. “I can see you have something in mind.”
“I think we should call him Nathan, after the man you loved? The one who died?”
Simon gasped.
Heath jerked back as if slapped. His face turned red, and his breath came in short gasps. “No. Choose something else.”
Adrien blinked up at him, an ache in his gut where moments ago only joy had been. “I’m sorry. I thought you’d like it.”
“I do.” Heath shook his head, wiped his hand over his mouth, and said,
“Just pick something else.”
Simon stepped away from the bed, as though he wanted to make himself invisible. Adrien’s chest hurt. He didn’t know what he’d done wrong.
“Michael? After my father, then?”
Heath nodded. “That’s good. I like it.”
Adrien fought back the lump in his throat and peered down at his son.
How could he be hurt when his child was perfect, plump, and snuggled in so tight against him chestfeeding? His glasses fogged from the puff of his own hot breath and the humidity of the suddenly hot room. He took them off again.
It was fine. They were fine.
Michael it would be, and it was a good name.
“Michael,” he said aloud, testing it.
“He was an angel,” Simon offered as he left. “One of God’s finest.”
Heath swallowed hard and seemed to make an effort to soften at Adrien’s side in the bed. “Yes, Michael. The angel of triumph.”
The tension in the room dissolved, and eventually Adrien fell asleep.
When he woke, the room was dark, but Michael and Heath were nestled up beside him, and he checked the baby for his breath. Upon finding it steady and strong, he slipped off back into dreams.
Chapter Nineteen
TO ADRIEN’S EYES, Heath seemed happier than ever, perhaps even deliriously so, after the baby’s birth. He smiled constantly and was a helpful, adoring father to Michael and devoted alpha to Adrien.
But it wasn’t the same for Adrien. As the first few days passed, he grew restless, tired, and anxious. His skin didn’t hurt like it did before, but he felt like his insides had taken over the job of aching. He couldn’t use the bathroom without pain, and while he knew that was normal, it stressed him out. He didn’t want to eat because that meant he’d later have to endure the bathroom agony, but if he didn’t eat then Michael wouldn’t get the right nutrients, and he just wanted to sleep, dammit, but Michael wanted to chestfeed, and it was harder than he’d thought.
He wanted that rosy glow back. The one he’d carried through his whole pregnancy. The one that had fallen over him like a protective blanket up until the birth, whispering to him that everything was all right.
Instead, he had a weird, nagging feeling that everything was all wrong.
And he had no idea how to settle it. He straightened his glasses as he paced with a fussing Michael up and down the long hallway. It no longer felt magical. He felt like he knew every nub and dent in the concrete.
“It’s the hormone drop,” Heath said calmly, falling into step next to him.
He reached out to rub Adrien’s neck, but that felt condescending, and Adrien shrugged him off. “You’ve been riding the pregnancy hormones for months, and getting plenty of my semen, too, which has a calming effect. Now, you haven’t been taking in any since the birth. I could jerk off into your mouth.
That might help.”
Adrien glared at him. He was tired, upset, and couldn’t take a shit without thinking he was going to die, but Heath wanted to jerk off into his mouth?
Fuck him.
“No.”
“It might help.”
“No.”
“I could put some in a glass for you then. You could drink it like milk.”
Adrien gazed down at Michael’s frowning face and sighed. “All right.”
“I’ll leave it for you in the fridge.”
Adrien turned up a lip. “Cold jizz. Thanks. Delicious.”
“I can give it to you warm. I already offered.”
“No!” Adrien kissed Michael’s fat baby cheeks, wishing he didn’t feel so growly inside. He was being unfair to Heath. He headed back down the tunnel into the living room of the nest again. “I don’t like the idea of Simon seeing it in the refrigerator.”
“This is common,” Heath said, following him. “Everyone knows omegas can go through this. Post-partum drop. It’s normal.”
“It’s not normal! It’s awful!”
Heath took Michael from him. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep? I’ll take care of this little booger.”
Adrien thought about arguing. He hated being away from Michael for even a few minutes. It felt wrong that the little being who’d so recently been inside him could ever be more than a hand’s reach away.
“I’ll just rest here on the couch.” He lay down on his side and grabbed a throw pillow to cling to. He watched Heath sit with Michael in the rocking chair Simon had brought down from somewhere in the big house. Heath hummed, his deep voice vibrating through Adrien soothingly.
He relaxed. Okay, this was all right. Good, even. He took off his glasses and put them on the arm of the sofa. When he woke up, he’d be over whatever was happening, whatever nastiness was growing in his head. He’d go back to feeling that lovely peace and contentment he’d felt before.
But when he did wake, he felt no different. Plus, Heath was gone, and Michael was in Simon’s arms in the garden. He tightened his robe, wondering when he’d be able to fit in his old clothes, put on his glasses, and stepped outside. He frowned. The roses had started to fade over the last few days.
“Autumn’s coming on,” Simon said, answering his unspoken question.
“Won’t be long until the bushes are bare. But they come back new every year.” He kissed Michael’s little head and smiled at Adrien, his old eyes crinkling at the edges. “Heath left something in the refrigerator for you. He said you should have it right away.”
Adrien gritted his teeth. He did miss the taste of Heath’s cum. He missed

the feeling of him pumping it deep into his ass the most, but that particular orifice felt like it would never be the same again.
A new fear dug its claws in.
What if it was never the same? What if Heath didn’t want him anymore?
A spike of anger shot through him.
Heath had bought his heat, bred him, and pampered him. Told him he loved him. He’d let him believe that they could be happy together. What was wrong with Adrien to be so suspicious now? Why was he so upset?
“Drink what Heath left for you, lad,” Simon said kindly. “You’ll feel better for it.”
Adrien took Michael from him. “He needs to eat,” he said, though the baby usually fussed when he was hungry. He took him into the gazebo and sat on the bench, undoing his robe enough to feed him. He looked out over the garden with renewed interest. He hadn’t worn his glasses so often when he was pregnant, and everything looked crisper through the lenses.
What would winter look like from his nest? No green leafy trees in the forest outside his room. No red roses in the garden. No sweet scents slipping into his nose lulling him into peace. Winter would be gray and cold.
Different. Stark.
Adrien wondered if he’d stay to see it.
HEATH PACED HIS office.
Adrien wasn’t doing well at all since the birth. He’d called the doctor twice and been told both times that this behavior was normal. Almost all omegas experienced hormone drop after birth. He was instructed to feed him alpha cum as often as possible and wait it out.
But there was something wrong. Heath sensed it.
Or maybe it was the guilt in his gut turning over and over.
There was so much he had kept from Adrien, so much that he needed to tell him.
Not to mention, he had a child now—an alpha child at that—and thus an obligation to inform his brother, Lidell, and his nephew, Ned, that he had a new heir. That was going to be an ugly conversation. Not helped any by the last interaction he’d had with them, before Adrien had been close to birthing
Michael.
Ned had been caught in an orgy again. Not a big deal in the scheme of life, except for the fact that, in the basement where this orgy was held, an omega had been gagged, tied to the bed, beaten with whips, and fucked against his will.
That was rape, and while Ned swore that he’d had nothing to do with it, hadn’t even known it was happening, and that he’d been taking part with willing– happily willing, he’d insisted—omegas upstairs, the amount of work Heath had needed to put in to protect the family’s reputation, and Ned’s, was immense. Because, God help him, he believed his nephew was a lazy, lustful sod, but he wasn’t a rapist.
Still, he’d told Lidell off for not keeping a better leash on Ned, and, as usual, that’d led to all kinds of bad blood being brought to the surface. “So says the brother that I literally had to peel off omegas when he was in college.”
“I was a worthless pig, but that doesn’t mean Ned should be.”
“Then you took up with that trash!”
“Don’t talk about Nathan. He’s dead. Show some respect.”
“Respect? For the low-class user who wanted your money and nothing more? He fucked how many alphas behind your back? Probably in your own bed! He even let one breed him, for fuck’s sake. Thank all that’s holy the pregnancy didn’t take because you would have raised that bastard as your own and put him in as heir.”
“Shut your foul mouth,” Heath had shouted, his hand going around his brother’s throat. He’d shoved him against the wall and shaken him. It hadn’t been nice. It hadn’t been kind. It definitely hadn’t been pretty. It’d echoed all their interactions since childhood: Lidell needling him until he used the threat of violence to shut him up.
It was a side of himself he didn’t like. A side of himself that Nathan had only seen once. During that very episode Lidell had the nerve to bring up.
The baby hadn’t lingered in Nathan’s womb; it was true. But it wasn’t because of Heath. Lidell told it true. Heath would have raised it as his own if it meant that Nathan would stay. But instead, Nathan had gone off alone for a week and come back saying it had been taken care of, and that, strangely enough, had hurt Heath almost more than the infidelity that had brought the baby into their lives.
He sat down at his desk, rubbing his face with his hand. He hadn’t shaved since Michael was born. He hadn’t intended to let his beard come back in, but it was, relentless and dark.
Like him, he supposed.
He picked up the phone to make the call. Now was as good a time as ever.
Might as well bring at least a few secrets into the light.
Chapter Twenty
FOR THE FIRST time in a long time, Adrien remembered he had a cell phone.
He plugged it into the wall and let it charge, surprised when a number of texts came through and a lot of missed-call notifications. He scanned through the alerts and was touched to see that Lance had sent most of them. His research team at the university, and even Ron Finch, had all messaged multiple times to check on his progress and health, too. They must have thought he was a total asshole to have never responded.
He used the phone to take a picture of himself with Michael and sent it to Lance and the others with a short message.
Announcing the birth of Michael Clearwater. 6lbs 4oz. Healthy and doing well. Thank you all for your kindness during my pregnancy. It was appreciated.
Then he sent another message just to Lance.
Sorry I missed your calls and texts. I forgot to charge my phone for a few months.
Pregnancy hormones will do that to a guy. Thanks for trying to keep in touch. I’ll do better.
A short time later his phone rang. And for the first time since he’d arrived at Heath’s house, he spoke to someone outside of his nest.
“So what’s his place like? Amazing?”
“I’ve stayed in the nest most of the time.”
“The nest?”
“Yeah, these really comfortable rooms and a garden that he had made for me.” It wasn’t true that they’d been made for him, but he’d pretended long enough that it felt true, and it made him feel special to say so. Lance didn’t know the difference. “I actually haven’t ever left it.”
“Wow. So you have no clue what the rest of his pad is like?”
“It’s a castle,” Adrien said, laughing softly. “I saw some of it when I first arrived. It was imposing.”
“You’re living in a castle, but you haven’t gone exploring? Are you even
allowed to or is this some Bluebeard kind of shit?”
“Bluebeard…?”Adrien didn’t get the reference.
“Right. I forgot about your weird religious background. It’s an old fairytale about an older alpha who breeds a young omega. They’re happy. In love. But he tells the omega the one thing he must never do is look inside this one room.”
Adrien felt a weird chill go up his back. He thought irrationally of the photo album with Nathan’s name on it. “And?”
“So of course the omega looked in the room one day.”
“And?” God, why was Lance making him work for this? He already felt sick to his stomach as it was. Probably from the hormone letdown, but…
but…there was something else, too.
“It was full of the bones of all the dead omegas he’d bred before him.
He’d killed them. The babies, too. Supposedly for daring to look in the room?
Or maybe it was because he was insane?”
“Because killing people for looking in a room isn’t insane?”
“Maybe they died in childbirth. I don’t know. But in the end of the version my omega parent told me, the omega ran for his life and never looked back. But I read a version here at university where he was caught looking in the room, and his alpha killed him and his baby, too.”
Adrien shuddered, holding baby Michael closer. “Good story, friend,” he said, mimicking the way Lance always talked to him. “Hilarious.”
“I’m not saying your man’s gonna murder you,” Lance said slowly. “But I’m just asking why you’re not allowed to look around.”
“I am allowed. I just haven’t.”
“Why?”
“Wait until you’re knocked up. Then you’ll understand.”
“The nudity thing?” Lance said, scoffing. “Please. I have no shame. I’ll be naked as a jaybird everywhere and anywhere I want in my alpha’s house.
Everyone can just deal with it. My youngest step-omega parent was always naked. He just gave up clothes eventually. My father liked it that way.”
“I bet he did.” Adrien sighed. He almost regretted talking to Lance now.
He already missed the blissful bubble he’d lived in while growing Michael so much, and with every word, Lance was destroying it even more.
At that moment, Michael started to fuss, which gave Adrien the perfect excuse to disconnect the call after promising not to drop off the face of the
earth again. He opened his robe, grateful that his skin was no longer so sensitive that even the silk felt harsh, and placed Michael onto his nipple.
The sharp pain of Michael latching on reminded him of Heath’s pinching fingers when they’d fucked, and he felt a strong, overwhelming loss at the memory. He shoved that thought out of his mind.
He cuddled Michael close, watching his fat cheeks move as he suckled, and marveled at the hot gushes of milk he felt spurt out of his nipple. It was remarkable how much his chest could hold. He knew some omegas grew much larger, but he’d remained relatively flat. Still Michael never seemed to run out of nourishment from his body.
He lay back in bed with Michael and fed him. He stared out the windows into the glowing green of the forest, noticing that some of the leaves were turning yellow, others orange, and one, very deep in the trees, was edged with red.
A shudder rocked him.
He didn’t want to be in this room when the leaves fell. The rest of the castle was a mystery, and he didn’t know if there was another room within it that he could bear to sleep in, but his blood ran cold at the thought of staying in this room during winter. The forest cold, the trees barren, and the skies a dull gray.
When Michael fell asleep, he made up his mind. He got out of bed, washed in the shower, and put on some of his old clothes. The fabric felt rough against his skin, and the waist was tight enough that he couldn’t button his pants closed, but he pulled his shirt down over it and left them open at the top. Finally, he put his glasses on, then he lifted Michael into his arms and stepped out of the room.
He heard Simon singing in the kitchen. He considered going to him and asking for a tour, but then he remembered that photo album. Simon had brought it to him. He’d wanted him to know about whatever—whoever—was inside. But something about that felt sinister now.
It was probably the hormone drop making him paranoid.
But if it wasn’t… Didn’t he deserve to know? He had Michael to think of now. What kind of man was Heath beyond the door of the nest? What was he hiding?
Adrien turned toward the door he’d entered by all those months ago, gripped Michael tightly, and walked through.

HEATH STARED AT his brother. He couldn’t believe the man had driven in from the seaside to have it out with him over something that was a done deal.
“The child is born. He’s mine. What’s done is done,” Heath said again.
“You did this on purpose!” Lidell spit out, pointing his finger at Heath, neck red with rage.
Heath huffed a laugh. “Yes, I did. I bought an omega’s heat, bred him, and knocked him up on purpose. And I had every right to do so.”
“Not just any omega,” Lidell said under his breath, a sneer twisting his mouth.
Heath knew just where that rumor had come from. “Earl should keep his mouth shut,” Heath spit out. “When I allowed him to stay on as Ned’s nurse and then his servant, it was with the understanding that anything Simon told him at home was private.”
“When it comes to protecting his charge, Earl knows where his loyalties lie!” Lidell said. “He puts Ned first. Unlike some people.”
Heath blinked at his brother. “Why on earth would I put Ned first?”
“Because he’s your heir!”
“Was my heir.” Heath rolled his eyes. “Ned! Come in here.”
The young man peeked his head around the doorway outside of Heath’s office, where he’d been charged with waiting while Heath spoke with Lidell privately. He stepped in, his cheeks flushed, anger flashing in his eyes, but a kind of puffiness in the mouth, too, like he’d been chewing his lip so that he wouldn’t cry.
“Ned,” Heath said less harshly. “You won’t be without a large fortune settled on you. To be honest, you probably won’t even notice the difference in the functionality of your life. Except, of course, that you won’t have to worry about ever taking over for me here.”
“Unless something happens to the brat,” Lidell said.
Heath roared, and Lidell hustled back toward the leather sofa near a sidewall. “You can’t hurt me!” he cried. “Ned is a witness.”
“If you threaten my child—”
“It wasn’t a threat!” Lidell exclaimed, pale and cowering. “It wasn’t a threat, Heath. I promise.”
Heath calmed himself, embarrassed to find spittle on his beard from the force of his shouts. He wiped it off with the back of his hand and turned to face the window.
“Ned, you’ll be fine. You’ll be wealthy and handsome. You’ll have your pick of omegas when it comes time to negotiate, or you can afford to have one at auction if that’s more your speed.”
“You plan to just discard him, then?”
“This is hardly discarding him, Lidell. I’m setting him up for life. Just like I did for you.”
“Our father did that.”
“And I let him,” Heath countered. “If I’d really wanted to put the nails to you, brother, I could have convinced him to leave every cent to me, and you know it.” Heath smoothed a hand over his beard. “Instead, you’ve had houses in the best areas, sent your son to the best schools, had my help in bailing him out of all sorts of unfortunate circumstances, and lived in leisure. I’ve never understood why you saw fit to complain.”
“Because you get everything good.”
“The stress? The strain? The worry? Carrying on our family reputation, keeping up our business interests, finding more, making sure our properties and interests stay sound, caring for the servants? That’s the good stuff you’re so jealous of?”
“You have purpose at least. Now you’re going to strip my boy of that.”
“You can design your own purpose, Lidell. How many times have I told you to go find something you love and do it well? But you whine and fuss.
You could have started your own dynasty by now, but you’ve pissed it all away in legal fees trying to find ways to declare me unfit.”
“That slut you carried on with should have been more than enough reason,” Lidell hissed. “Sleeping his way through all of your business associates. You know he affected your decision making, and he still does.”
“Shut your mouth.”
“Nathan was your undoing. And now you’ve gone and—”
“I said, shut your fucking mouth!”
Lidell slammed his lips together, but then Ned took up the cause.
“My whole life you said I was gonna be the master of this place, that I was going to be the Clearwater heir. You said I had to take care to be a good man because of it. Now you say I’m not!”
“If you’ve been acting the part of a ‘good man,’ Ned, then I am terrified to know what you would have done without that incentive.”
“That’s right!” Ned said, nodding and crossing his arms over his chest.
“You’re taking away my motivation. Now, what’ll I be? Nothing good!”
Heath rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. “The devil take you both.”
A small sound from the doorway drew his attention, and when his eyes met Adrien’s, at first his heart leapt, and then it fell.
Chapter Twenty-One
THE HOUSE WAS a maze, truly, and there weren’t many servants around as far as Adrien could see. At least, he didn’t run into any as he walked from room to lavish room, goggling at the monstrosity of riches nearly frothing from every corner.
This was the least Heath-like home he could imagine. Or maybe he didn’t know Heath at all.
The cold feeling he hated slid over him again. He kissed Michael’s head and pressed on into the house, looking for what, he didn’t know. He thought he’d understand when he found it, or maybe he was finally getting to see the real Heath. The one the world knew.
Imposing. Scary. Dominating.
The Heath who’d asked to see his asshole and made him lick his cum off his boot in front of the heat cabin.
Raised voices came from a room near the back of the ‘castle.’ He made out Heath’s tones and two other men. It sounded heated, and he knew he should turn back, but he didn’t.
He walked silently on his bare feet down the hallway, the sensation of clothes against his skin uncomfortable after months without them. He stopped in the doorway to a large office with views of the front drive and the park going off into the distance.
“The devil take you both!” Heath exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. His dark eyes glittered dangerously above his beard. His eyes landed on Adrien then, and they softened.
“Adrien? What are you doing up here?”
The two men beside Heath turned to face him, and immediately one of them scoffed. The other, younger one simply looked confused—angry, still, but confused. “You seriously did it, didn’t you?” the older man said. “You got his son. I’d heard the rumor, but I didn’t actually believe it.”
Heath’s eyes hardened as he swung his attention back to the men in the room.
“You bred your lover’s son? That’s demented!” the younger one said, a snarl of disgust on his lips.
“My lover, not my husband,” Heath corrected, though his eyes were back on Adrien, who felt like a ghost—tingly and unreal, floating outside of his body. “We were never married.”
“You fucked him enough to be married,” the elder said.
“Shut up, Lidell!” Heath snarled, his fists clenching. He took a step toward his brother like he was going to hit him, and Lidell took a step back, his face blanching.
“Calm down,” Lidell said, putting up his hands. “I just hadn’t thought you were still so cock-smitten that you’d go this far to get a piece of him back.”
Ned, because Adrien knew now that the younger man must be Lidell’s son, the troublemaker and former heir, turned to him and stared in utter rage.
“You! You stole my inheritance!” he shouted, starting forward with his fists clenched.
Heath grabbed Ned by his shirt neck and hauled him back. “Touch him, and you’ll be more than disinherited. You’ll be dead.”
Adrien cradled Michael close to his thundering heart. “I’ll go.”
“No, you should stay.” Heath’s brother snarled at him. “We’re the ones who should go.”
Michael squirmed in his arms, and Adrien bounced him softly. “I was exploring.”
“So I see,” Heath said a little grimly, but then he smiled softly and added,
“I’m being rude. This is my brother, Lidell Clearwater, and his son, Ned.
They’re here to learn more about the changes in the entail to the estate since Michael came along.”
“Did Nathan put you up to this?” Lidell asked Adrien, not putting out a hand or acting at all interested in polite introductions. “Did he convince you to take up his cause of messing up Heath’s life?”
“Nathan?” Adrien asked, knowing full well they were referring to the man Heath had loved and lost. The mystery man who had slipped into his thoughts relentlessly ever since Heath had reacted so badly to the name suggestion.
“Yes. Your omega parent! Nathan!” Lidell said, and then he cowered as Heath strode across the room, grabbed him by the arm, and dragged him toward the door.
“Excuse us, Adrien. My brother’s overstayed his welcome.” He called over his shoulder, “You, too, Ned.”
The sullen teen followed Heath and Lidell out of the room. Adrien stood by the doorway, out of arm’s reach, with Michael held close, like they were predators of some sort.
His head ached. His body throbbed. He felt nauseous. What had Lidell meant by saying Nathan was his omega parent? Or that Heath had bred his lover’s son?
He felt a little faint. He hadn’t eaten enough, and he was dizzy. He found the edge of the sofa the Ned boy had been sitting on and dropped down onto it. He lifted his shirt and latched Michael on. Adrien listened to his greedy gulps and waited for the calming hit of the chestfeeding hormones to come.
They weren’t as good as the pregnancy hormones or the effect of consuming alpha cum, but it was still a nice dose of calmness to keep him from running screaming into the park.
“Are you all right?” Heath asked, coming back in with a worried gleam in his eye and a disheveled look to his clothing, like there’d been a tussle. “My brother oversteps. He always does. Don’t be upset that he treated you rudely.
He’s a snob.”
“Why did he say that?”
“What?” Heath said, but his eyes glinting above the darkness of his beard were cagey.
“About Nathan. That he was my omega parent.”
“My brother’s upset about—”
Adrien straightened his glasses and peered at Heath. “Is it true?”
Heath rubbed his hand over his beard, and Adrien couldn’t help but think of Lance’s story of Bluebeard. What had he done? Who had he sold himself to? Whose son had he born?
“Did you kill Nathan?” he asked quietly, his worst unconscious fear rising to the surface.
Heath startled. “Little one, that’s absurd. I loved Nathan.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“I—”
“I want to know the truth, Heath. And I want to know it now.” Michael gobbled hungrily at his chest, and tears welled in Adrien’s eyes. He hated it.
“Let’s go back down to the nest. I’ll call for Simon,” Heath said slowly.

“So we can talk without Michael.”
THE BLUE LEATHER book with the white card sat in his lap.
Nathan.
Adrien ran his fingers over the letters. “I never knew my omega father’s name. The records were sealed from me.”
“Nathan Battershell. He was…” Heath trailed off.
“So that’s why you used that name in the auction?” Adrien’s throat hurt from holding back tears. “You’re telling me that my omega parent was your lover? That this book is full of pictures of him?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Adrien’s chin quivered. “I hate you so much right now. I’m hurt. Angry. I want to kick you and bite you and hurt you back.” He wiped his eyes. “But part of me wants to thank you because this…” He tapped the book. “Is something I’ve wanted to know for so long.”
Heath touched the back of Adrien’s neck, sliding his hand up as though to trail into his hair.








