Chapter 9
THEO
Iwas a grown man. I owned a business. I paid taxes. I had collected every Korok Seed in Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom without using a walkthrough.
So why was I hiding in the alley behind Sugar Sweet Bakery like a creeping stalker?
Because you’re pathetic, my brain supplied helpfully. And because you’re about to go into heat, and your hormones are driving the bus.
I peeked around the corner, staring at the front door of the Hillbilly Diner.
My stomach gave a treacherous growl. Usually, by now, I’d be on my second cup of coffee and halfway through a plate of Jace’s biscuits and gravy.
It was my routine. It was my safe space before I opened the Game Hut for the day.
But today, that safe space contained… them.
The Dishwasher. Dalton. The beta with the eyes that looked like melted chocolate and hidden pain.
And the Stranger. The Alpha. The human tank who had sat next to me yesterday and practically short-circuited my nervous system just by existing.
I had seen them hug. I knew what they were. A bonded pair. A unit. An alpha and a beta, defying the odds and the stereotypes.
And me? I was just the weird, sweaty omega in the corner who had bolted like a frightened rabbit because I couldn’t handle the fact that my body wanted both of them.
Go find another place to eat, Theo. There’s a perfectly good bagel shop three blocks over.
I told my feet to move. I visualized the bagel shop. I ignored the bagel shop.
Giving up my routine made me twitchy. I liked my life ordered. I liked games sorted by genre and release date. I liked heat suppressants organized by expiration date. Chaos belonged in cutscenes, not in my Tuesday morning.
Movement at the front door of the diner caught my attention, and my breath hitched. It was Dalton. He was flipping the sign to ‘OPEN’. He looked tired, rubbing a hand over his face, but there was a softness to his expression that hadn’t been there yesterday.
I shrank back into the shadows, my heart hammering against my ribs. Just go. Walk away.
I turned, intending to scurry back down the alley to the safety of my apartment.
I made it exactly one step before I walked smack into a wall.
A hot, solid wall that smelled like sagebrush and flowers, and pure, concentrated Alpha.
Strong arms wrapped around me before I could stumble, dragging me against a chest that felt as unyielding as a tank’s armor.
“Caught you,” a deep voice rumbled, vibrating straight through my sternum.
My brain went offline. My knees turned to jelly. And my scent… oh god, my scent. I could feel it spiking, thick and sweet and desperate, betraying me completely. My heat wasn’t due for days, but being this close to him—to this alpha—was accelerating everything.
It was terrifying. It was humiliating.
“I wasn’t… I wasn’t lurking,” I squeaked, my face pressed against his black t-shirt. “I was… contemplating the alley architecture.”
“Is that right?” The alpha didn’t let go. If anything, his grip tightened, not painful, but absolute. “Because it looked like you were trying to run away from breakfast.”
“I’m finding new breakfast horizons,” I lied, trying to push away. It was like trying to push a mountain.
“Don’t run, omega.”
The command wasn’t a growl, but it carried that Alpha weight that bypassed logic and went straight to instinct. Freeze. Submit. Listen.
I froze. “I’m not… I’m not trying to cause trouble,” I whispered, the fight draining out of me. “I saw you. With him. Yesterday. I’m not… I’m not a homewrecker. I don’t mess with bonded pairs.”
The man went still. His hand moved from my waist to the back of my neck, his thumb rubbing the sensitive skin there. I shuddered, a whimper escaping before I could bite it back.
“You think you’re trouble?” he asked, his voice rougher now.
“I think I’m confused,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “And I think… I think being this close to you is a really bad idea for my self-control.”
He hummed, a low sound of agreement. “We have a problem, Theo. You. Me. My beta.”
He called him my beta. The possessiveness in those two words was staggering. It should have pushed me away—a clear line in the sand. This is mine.
But it didn’t. It sounded… open.
“We need to talk,” the alpha said, stepping back just enough to look me in the eye. His eyes were gold-flecked and intense, searching my face. “I’ve never been the kind of alpha to stray. I love Dalton more than my own life. You aren’t a replacement for him.”
I flinched, the rejection stinging despite my logic telling me it was coming. “I know. I didn’t think—I mean, obviously. I’m just… I’m just going to go.”
“But,” he cut me off, his hand sliding down to grip my shivering hand. “I don’t know what this is. I can’t explain it.”
“It’s sex,” I blurted out, trying to find some solid ground. “It’s biology. I’m pre-heat, you’re an Alpha. You smell like sagebrush and flowers, and I probably smell like a desperate cat in heat. It’s just chemistry.”
“Is it?” He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Because I’ve smelled plenty of omegas in heat. I’ve never chased one down an alley because the thought of them leaving made my chest ache.”
My breath caught. “That’s… that’s poetic. But it’s still hormones.”
“Maybe,” he conceded, though he didn’t look convinced. “Or maybe it conflicts with your data. You like your life ordered, don’t you?”
I blinked. “How did you—”
“You have your games alphabetized in the window,” he said, a small, wry smile tugging at his lips. “And you organize your condiments on the table before you eat. I watched you yesterday.”
Heat flooded my cheeks for a different reason. He had watched me?
“Look,” I said, trying to pull my hand back, though my fingers betrayed me by clinging to his warmth. “I don’t do this. I don’t do… messy. And three people? That’s the definition of messy.”
“It is,” he agreed readily. “It’s complicated. It’s terrifying. Dalton is inside right now trying to wipe down a counter that is already clean because he’s freaking out just as much as you are.”
“He is?”
“He thinks he’s not enough,” the alpha said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “He thinks his biology is failing me. And if you walk away now, without even talking to us… it’s going to confirm every fear he has.”
That hit me hard. The image of the beta—Dalton—with his sad eyes, thinking he was broken. Takes one to know one.
“That’s dirty pool,” I whispered. “Using him against me.”
“I’m using whatever I have,” he said simply. “I’m not asking for a commitment, Theo. Not asking for your soul. Just breakfast.”
He squeezed my hand. “Come inside. Eat pancakes. Let’s just… see if the world ends. If you want to leave after the check comes, I won’t stop you. I swear.”
I looked at the diner door. Then back at the alpha. He looked solid. Grounded. But there was a tremor in his hand holding mine that betrayed him. He was scared too.
It’s just breakfast, I told myself. You need food anyway.
But deep down, I knew it wasn’t. It was the precipice of something distinct and terrifying.
“I have strict rules about food sharing,” I said weakly, my last line of defense.
“Understood,” he said solemnly. “I won’t touch your bacon.”
“Okay,” I breathed, my heart feeling like a bird trapped in my chest. “Okay. One breakfast. Not pancakes. Today is biscuits and gravy day.”
He grinned, a devastatingly handsome grin that made my heart flutter, before he led me toward the diner door. As he pushed it open, the bell jingled—a cheerful, innocent sound that signaled the end of my quiet, ordered life.
Inside, Dalton looked up from the counter. His eyes went wide, flicking from the alpha to me. The longing that washed over his face broke my heart a little.
And for the first time in my life, I didn’t want to hide in a cutscene. I wanted to see how this played out IRL.