Chapter Six
Valentin
Valentin finished mowing around three o’clock. The Parkensons’ lawn was enormous, acres of grass that seemed to go on forever. He’d been working since lunchtime to get it all trimmed. The sun beating down on his shoulders hadn’t helped. Summers were always this way in Warburton. Hot and humid.
He put the lawnmower back in the shed and wiped his palms on his pants. Looking up at the house, his gaze drifted to the east wing of the mansion.
To the last window on the third story.
The one his eyes never failed to find.
He sucked in a breath when he saw Zeller sitting in the windowsill, smiling down at him. That smile did something to his heart. Not to mention his dick. He shoved the thought aside.
Just friends, he reminded himself.
Zeller waved, then motioned for Valentin to come into the house.
He shouldn’t. Every interaction with the omega felt riskier than the last. Each time they spoke, his feelings grew more intense.
Valentin kept finding new things to admire about him. There was his beauty, of course, and his curiosity and cleverness, but after six months of knowing him, Valentin was most in awe of his unmatched resilience, the inner strength that lit him up from within.
The degree to which the omega had been kept from the world would have broken many men. But not Zeller.
He maintained an easy laugh and rarely displayed any bitterness.
Valentin was charmed by his enthusiasm for, well, everything.
Zeller exclaimed over beautiful leaves on the ground, book covers, cloud formations, movies he’d watched, a new word he’d discovered, and one time, an exceptionally good bowl of pasta.
Despite his situation, he found reasons to be happy.
To stay positive. It was a lesson Valentin was trying to learn.
They talked often about the omega’s greatest passion—making art.
The mansion received regular deliveries of canvases, paints, and other materials, although Valentin had yet to see one of Zeller’s paintings in person.
The hallways of the Parkenson home were filled with austere landscapes and black and white photographs.
Without being told, Valentin knew the dreary artwork was not Zeller’s.
It was becoming difficult to hide his attraction. If Valentin were smart, he would simply stay away. Keep his distance and hope his feelings faded.
His inner alpha balked at the notion. Clearly, Valentin was not smart.
And Zeller was still waving from the window, beckoning him inside.
Valentin surrendered to the inevitable, heading toward the rear of the mansion.
He expected to find Zeller waiting in the back hallway. But no one was there. Did he expect Valentin to come to his bedroom? They’d never done anything so brazen.
After another minute, Valentin ignored all pretense of self-preservation and climbed the grand staircase to the third floor. He tiptoed to the room at the end of the hall, taking care to avoid being seen by the other staff.
Outside the entrance to Zeller’s suite, he inhaled, attempting to calm his nerves.
Before he could knock, the door swung open and Zeller yanked him inside. Clearly, despite his bravado, the omega also recognized the risk.
Valentin froze beyond the threshold. The snick of the door shutting behind him echoed in the sizeable room.
Zeller’s bedroom.
The silence grew heavy. The air was tangible, like it belonged to them alone.
Private. Intimate.
The closed door created the illusion of a barrier. Everything and everyone else on the outside.
Zeller grinned, and Valentin finally took a breath.
They were a world away from whatever lay behind the door, and he could not stop himself from drinking in the omega’s beauty. The hint of gold in his curls. The adorable mole on his left cheek. The pale pink perfection of his mouth.
Fuck! This was dangerous.
Swallowing roughly, he blinked back his stare.
“You came,” Zeller whispered.
Valentin straightened his posture. “Of course,” he said in a measured tone. “But this is a terrible idea. If anyone saw… Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Better than fine, actually. It’s something good. Come here. I’ll show you.”
Valentin ventured further into the suite.
One half of the space was an art studio, with supplies strewn across a worktable situated between two easels.
Zeller’s artwork was full of bold strokes and colors.
Three walls of bookshelves surrounded an enormous bed on the other side of the room.
In the corner, a blanket rested on the armrest of a worn-in reading chair.
Between the paintings, the book spines, the purple chair, and the floral bedding, there was more color in this one room than in the rest of the mansion combined.
Zeller’s nose twitched, and Valentin knew his smoky sage alpha scent was invading the air. It always did when they were together, although he usually controlled it better.
But being alone with Zeller like this was challenging. He was only human, not to mention a healthy nineteen-year-old alpha with normal impulses.
Did Zeller understand? Did he suspect Valentin’s desire for him as a man? He was so sheltered. What did he know about attraction? About sex? That was one subject they’d never discussed.
Without warning, a strange sort of dizziness overtook Valentin.
Was that—?
It was subtle. So subtle. But detectable.
What the fuck?
He strained to capture it.
A faint aroma of sugar maple perfumed the air.
Valentin’s nostrils flared.
Stars! That was Zeller. His scent. He smelled like sugar maple.
Valentin’s chin lifted.
Had the omega come into bloom? Zeller was eighteen, which would be early but not unheard of. Fuck, he smelled amazing! Did that mean he’d have his heat soon? Valentin struggled to suppress the low growl that formed in his throat at the thought.
The silence stretched again, the only sound their rhythmic breathing. The omega said nothing. He bit his lip and another burst of sugar maple saturated the air.
Did Zeller even realize the havoc he was causing?
Valentin’s alpha vibrated inside him. He adjusted his sweatshirt over his jeans to disguise his erection.
He’d gotten hard a few times around Zeller, but never like this.
Never with the omega in front of him, his heady scent overwhelming Valentin’s senses.
Their gazes locked. Valentin needed to calm down. The last thing he wanted to do was lose control and put himself in a compromising position with the Parkensons’ son. Even with their scents mixing aggressively in the air, they still hadn’t said or done anything they couldn’t come back from.
With difficulty, he shook his head, releasing it from the grip of sugar maple.
Valentin had bloomed over a year ago. He’d even fucked a few betas in the last town he lived in. This felt nothing like that. This pull to Zeller was more intense, far beyond simple attraction or wanting to get off.
But they would be crazy to give in to their feelings. He had already resigned himself to suffering with his desire. As Antoni had made clear in the library a few months ago, he and Zeller were cut from different trees.
Valentin cleared his throat. “So…were you going to show me something?”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and covertly adjusted himself again, refusing to dwell on how Zeller’s scent was the best thing he’d ever smelled.
The omega gave him an inscrutable look before padding over to the closet. He pointed. “There.”
Valentin peered down and saw a cardboard box. A cat sat primly inside it, grooming his paws. As the two men stared down, the animal hissed.
“Seems friendly,” Valentin muttered.
“I found him yesterday,” Zeller said. “On my walk. I wasn’t sure what else to do, so I brought him back with me.”
“You found him in the backyard?”
“Near the orchard fence. I’ve never seen him on the estate before.”
“So you just took him?”
Zeller glared, endearingly indignant. “He was yowling as if he was lost. And you know our nearest neighbor is miles away. I bet someone dropped him off like garbage.” Looking down at the box, he cooed, “You’re not garbage, are you, sweet thing?”
Valentin smiled. It was a plausible theory. Random trash often showed up on the grounds—neighbors taking advantage of the estate’s vastness to avoid proper disposal fees.
He let the cat sniff his fingers. After a brief narrowing of his eyes, the feline allowed gentle petting. Soon, he was purring.
“See!” Zeller said. “He’s a bit prickly at first but warms up super-fast. He slept with me all last night.”
Valentin ran a hand over the tabby’s spine. “Are you hiding him because you don’t think your family will let you keep him?” Keyes and Deveron didn’t strike Valentin as men who would appreciate cute, furry things in their home.
Zeller snorted. “I know they won’t let me keep him.
I was barely able to sneak out with him last night so he could do his business.
Except I found out cats don’t hold it the way dogs do.
He peed in my hamper this morning and I had to get up early to throw my clothes in the wash.
It’s a little easier with my fathers out of town. But they won’t be gone forever.”
“Yeah. We had a cat for a while growing up,” Valentin mused. “If you’re going to keep him indoors, he needs a litter box.”
Zeller scoffed good-naturedly. “Can you imagine my parents allowing a litter box anywhere in this stack of bricks? They practically lost their minds one time when Jem ran into the house with muddy boots.”
“Then what are you planning to do?”
“I went online to see if there were any posts on local blogs about missing cats. None matched his description. I was hoping you could take him to the vet to check if he’s chipped? If he has owners, I’m curious how he ended up here.”
Inwardly, Valentin winced, envisioning the cost of a visit to the veterinarian. He’d also need to buy supplies to keep a cat at his apartment for even a few days. But it wasn’t like he could say no to Zeller.
“I’ll take him. There’s a packing box downstairs I can move him in.”