Valgar
He hadn’t thought of it as a courtship, but Mar’s words had brought it to the forefront, her clarity cutting through both his excuses and his fears to leave him with only the obvious truth.
Back when he’d selected Quincy, he’d been selfishly thinking only of himself and Mar. But now he could do better, now he knew Quincy and how he had been treated all his life; like his needs and desires were to be secondary considerations, if considered at all.
It had been growing in him a while now, and their shared heat had only made it burn brighter, but he had hidden it from himself.
From Mar, because he hadn’t been able to bear hurting her.
And his wife had turned it around and taken this passion he felt for someone else and found joy in it they could share.
She’d looked at Quincy and found a friend instead of a rival, supported their union every which way he could imagine and now she, much braver than Valgar could ever hope to be, had opened her heart as well as her home to the stranger intended to replace her.
Quincy was more than ready, once she’d pointed it out, Valgar could not miss his second omega’s looks and touches.
He had never missed them, really, he’d just held himself back from acknowledging them, used their history as a shield for what he was too afraid to feel.
Because Mar was safe, her heats were gone for good, but Quincy wasn’t. And if it worked, if he...
If he became pregnant, then he could also die.
“Valgar.” He turned away from the view of the mountains to find the object of his thoughts clutching a cloak tightly around himself.
His mind went blank: Quincy was afraid and everything else dissolved around them. Valgar stepped up to him and tried to hold him, but his omega stumbled backwards, raising a hand, he was stiff and distant in the bond as well.
Valgar stopped, waiting.
“I think...” Quincy closed his eyes, fingers digging into the cloth until his knuckles were red with the cold.
Where were his gloves? Valgar thought stupidly, gritting his teeth to keep himself still.