Chapter 25
Dash barely remembered climbing atop Emerson, but that’s where he found himself the next time he awoke—locked together by the alpha’s knot once again with a sheen of sweat covering them both.
He stared down into Emerson’s handsome face, his heart skipping a beat as he gasped for air.
How could he be so far gone that he didn’t even remember having sex?
Thank heavens it was with Emerson.
That thought gave him pause. Not because it was wrong, but because of the instinctual trust he felt for the man. At his most defenseless… he’d only wanted Emerson there.
He’d never even dreamed of wanting to share a heat with someone. Now he couldn’t imagine being alone without Emerson there.
Dash’s gaze slowly moved to Emerson’s. Satisfaction shone in the alpha’s eyes. A small, gratified smile and hooded eyes told Dash most of what he needed to know. Yet he examined closer, looking for the telltale signs of judgment—or anger—or disappointment, but he saw none of those.
“Are you okay?” Emerson asked, his voice gentle, massaging Dash’s hips where he’d just been holding tight.
“I’m fine,” Dash replied, dragging his gaze off the man who was peeling away his armor, layer by layer. “I, ah…”
He allowed the words to trail off, emotion making his throat tighten.
The thought of Emerson walking away once he learned the full story made it harder to breathe.
Tears threatened, and he fucking hated that.
The surge of hormones from his heats always sent him into an emotional tailspin.
It left him feeling overwhelmed and incapable of controlling himself, no matter how hard he’d worked to find level footing over the last few years.
Thankfully, Emerson wasn’t pushing for answers. Oblivious, Emerson tenderly brushed Dash’s sweaty bangs back like it was his one and only job. Dash watched his alpha at work, diligent and attentive.
“I suppose you deserve that explanation now.”
Emerson’s gaze slowly slid to his. He didn’t speak for a beat, running his thumb just under Dash’s lower lip first. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have questions…”
Dash tore his gaze from the earnestness in Emerson’s stare.
Instead, he eyed his mate’s chest, focusing on a small cluster of freckles at the base of his neck.
They reminded him of a constellation. Which one, he couldn’t remember.
Tracing a fingertip over the tiny dots, he collected his thoughts and tried to put some order to the chaos of his mind.
Emerson’s skin was warm and that warmth leached into him.
The steady beat of his alpha’s heart pulsed under his fingertip.
The steady pulse of the knot was even more profound.
What if he gets me pregnant?
Panic struck at that thought, but through the hazy memory of the night before, he thought he recalled a condom appearing. Hopefully that was the case.
Seconds ticked by—yet Emerson still didn’t prod, even though Dash sensed a keen eye on him.
“I grew up assumed to be an alpha. I was one of the tallest and strongest in almost every one of my classes. Well, until I started skipping grades, that is. Either way, I was big for my age. I was only ten when my knot appeared and all of the questions were supposedly answered. I was alpha. Top of the food chain.” He paused, allowing himself a breath to hold back the tide.
“Yet something in my head knew I wasn’t.
I could never put what I felt into words, it was just this general feeling that my body was wrong somehow.
That being an alpha was wrong. I wasn’t interested in the things other alphas were, but for the longest time, I attributed that to the boys being older than me.
I’d get there one day. I pushed myself to excel at all the things alphas were supposed to excel at. ”
“I felt much the same way—though I’m not the grade-skipping genius you are,” Emerson said, offering a soft smile. “As puberty grew closer, I struggled to understand the things my friends did or wanted. I felt wrong, too.”
“Puberty. That was the absolute worst. Fortunately, I was enrolled in Woodside, so I didn’t have omegas to contend with at the same time. Except the occasional mixers or joint events with Belle Haven.”
Emerson whistled. “Woodside? We hated the snobs who went there. But then, you are a McCreary.”
“My papa was a McCreary who’d been exiled from the family for mating my father, thank you very much. I earned a scholarship on my own merit and skill.”
Emerson grinned. “Egghead.”
Dash fought a smile. “Can’t win with you, can I? Either I’m a snob or an egghead.”
Emerson pressed a soft kiss to Dash’s lips. “You’re my egghead. I’d take that any day over a snob.”
Dash fought another smile, sliding his fingertip down to another cluster of freckles. Silence took hold, and he pretended for a minute that Emerson wasn’t hanging on to his every word, waiting for an explanation he full well deserved.
“Graduated Woodside at thirteen. Went to Smythe and walked out with a degree before I hit eighteen. I was recruited by the Black Guard before I walked the stage and was in training two months later. Few alphas were hired back then. There were only three of us all during the time I was there. Then at the ripe age of twenty-eight, I learned the truth and my world exploded.”
“You’re omega?”
“Sort of,” Dash whispered. He scowled, the memory of the day he learned he was a freak making it harder to breathe.
“How are you sort of an omega?” Emerson asked. “Although, I’ve never met an omega with a knot, so there’s clearly a lot I don’t know.”
“The specialist the Guard brought in called me a hybrid. It’s supposedly a rare condition.”
“A hybrid…”
Dash nodded. “I’m alpha… and omega.”
He peeked up through his lashes to see how Emerson reacted. His alpha stared, expression blank. Dash squirmed a bit, doubt causing his stomach to twist into knots. He sat silently for a minute, wishing Emerson would say something.
Anything.
“The Guard brought in a specialist for you?”
“I…” Dash closed his eyes a few seconds. “Something happened… while I was on site. There were witnesses, and an investigation was opened. They demanded I be seen by a doctor or risk immediate termination.”
A low, angry growl came from Emerson. “What happened?”
Dash winced. He didn’t want to tell that story, especially not after sharing his first heat with Emerson. First heat… and maybe his last if things didn’t go well.
“I’d rather not relive it in full detail right now, if you don’t mind. What I can tell you is—I was on site, in the locker room. I went into heat for the first time and… it was noticed. There were two other alphas on my team.”
“Jackson…”
“Was one, yes, but he did nothing wrong,” Dash said.
“I get that some alphas can’t control themselves when a rut hits, and the instinct is hard to combat—but if he truly cared about you, he would’ve gotten away. I would have.”
Dash tensed, pulling away a little. “Emerson…”
“Did he hurt you?”
“No! He helped protect me, Em. I swear it.”
Emerson searched his face, near seething with outrage. He didn’t look like he believed Dash, but he calmed a bit, regardless. Still, Dash wasn’t sure Emerson would truly relax until he heard the whole story.
“I’d been with the Black Guard for nearly a decade. Our team of four was made up of myself, two other alpha agents and Mason. We’d all worked together for years. Trusted one another implicitly. We were as close as brothers.”
He scrubbed his face, preparing himself for the next part.
“We’d infiltrated a Wildling group who’d been targeting a tiny province far south of Rocinate.
The Wildlings had destroyed the outer wall, killed nearly two dozen alphas and betas, left dozens more gravely injured, and captured nearly a dozen omegas.
We were sent in to free the omegas and neutralize their leaders—the chieftain and his eldest son. ”
“I’d assumed you’d been an investigator,” Emerson murmured, eyes wide. “Like what you do now. But you were in the field?”
“Investigation was my main role, but field work was often a part of that, too,” Dash replied.
“Whatever was needed of our team. Alphas were so rare in the Guard, we were hardly ever pegged as agents. Our team could slip in and out without much notice. We infiltrated clans under the guise of being a group of Wildlings exiled from our own to seek intel on many occasions.”
Emerson stared in disbelief, a hint of judgement creeping into his eyes.
The fine hairs at the back of Dash’s neck rose in warning. “You seem more shocked by this news than learning I’m in heat. Are you struggling to reconcile me being a weak, fragile omega and a member of an elite ops team within the Guard?”
“No!” Emerson’s face turned pink. “I just hadn’t pegged you as a field operative.”
Dash sensed truth to that but wasn’t sure. He didn’t want Emerson treating him differently just because a part of him was biologically omega.
“There’s nothing weak or fragile about you, by the way,” Emerson added.
Dash’s anger tempered hearing that.
“I feel weak right now,” Dash muttered. “I hate feeling this out of control.”
“I’m sorry,” Emerson murmured. “I can’t even begin to imagine what you go through.”
Dash wasn’t sure if he saw pity or compassion in his mate’s eyes. He hoped for the latter. “Seven years later and I’m still not adjusted to it myself. It doesn’t help that they’re inconsistent and arrive off schedule at times.”
“Do you take the meds?”
Dash nodded. “Heatex and Scentex.”
“I thought those were supposed to stop your heats completely?” Emerson said.
“They are, but it’s not completely. I still feel… horny as fuck.” He paused a few seconds. “We’re also supposed to take the occasional break from them to maintain potency. I’ve been… ignoring that need for too long.”
One of Emerson’s brows rose.
“I’ve been busy trying to rebuild my life… and…” Dash sighed. “I dragged my feet because I didn’t want to experience another full heat. I hate them.”