Chapter 8
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
It was an effort not to stiffen at the sound of the familiar voice.
Michael put on a neutral smile and turned around. Anthony was watching him with narrowed eyes.
“Avoiding you? Why would I be avoiding you?” Michael said, taking a sip of his drink. Truth be told, he had been avoiding Anthony. Even when their paths crossed at social events, Michael never lingered near Anthony, and there was almost always someone else there to act as a buffer.
Anthony stepped closer.
It took everything in him not to retreat, his stomach in knots, instincts bristling with agitation.
“I don’t know,” Anthony said, his blue eyes sweeping over Michael in an assessing manner. “You tell me.”
Michael snorted a laugh. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“Really?” Anthony said, stepping even closer. His wide shoulders filled Michael’s vision, blocking everything else. The chatter in the ballroom seemed to fade away, leaving Michael painfully aware of the other alpha.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Michael said dismissively.
Anthony just looked at him for a moment, his gaze piercing, before he said, very quietly, “You will tell me what’s going on.”
Michael stiffened. Although Anthony hadn’t used his alpha Voice, the sheer command in his tone sent adrenaline surging through him, his instincts bristling for a fight.
Before he could think, he bared his teeth in a display of aggression.
Anthony’s eyes narrowed. “All right, what’s wrong with you? You’re normally a lot better than that at controlling your instincts. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do alpha posturing. Until now.”
Michael averted his gaze, mortification and fear making his stomach knot up. Anthony couldn’t find out. He had to stop behaving suspiciously. He had to stop avoiding him. He had to come up with a believable lie.
“This isn’t the best place for this conversation,” he said, stalling for time.
Anthony glanced around and nodded. “Let’s go, then. We can find a room to talk.” He turned and made his way through the crowded ballroom, confident that Michael would follow him.
After a moment’s hesitation, Michael did, trying to think of a lie Anthony might believe, but his mind came up blank. He was still empty-handed when he followed him into a vacant room down the corridor.
“Look,” Anthony said, breaking the silence, “is this about what happened on Belith?”
Michael’s heart seemed to jump into his throat.
“What do you mean?” he managed.
“I know how aggravating being around another alpha in rut is,” Anthony said. “Jon and I nearly killed each other during the full moon a few times, and he’s my best friend.”
Michael’s stomach clenched. It wasn’t that he’d ever thought that just because Anthony was his best friend Michael was Anthony’s.
Of course he hadn’t thought that. He knew Anthony and his brother-in-law, Jonathan, had served together for a decade.
They even looked like brothers, almost like twins.
Of course their friendship was deeper than whatever the two of them had.
“I’m not a Torryn alpha like the two of you,” Michael said stiffly. “And I wasn’t in rut. It was fine.”
Anthony’s blue eyes bored into him. “It isn’t fine if you’re avoiding me.” He frowned. “Did something happen while I was sedated?”
Fuck. Think.
Michael looked around the room. “It was just a bit awkward, man,” he said with a chuckle.
“Your rut was unnaturally intense. I think... I think your rut pheromones might have messed with me, making me uncomfortable around you.” He shrugged.
“I don’t know, I’d never been around a rutting Torryn alpha before.
You know we Vos alphas have much milder ruts, we barely even notice them. ”
He could feel Anthony’s heavy gaze on his face.
“Why aren’t you looking me in the eye?” he said. “Are you that uncomfortable around me now?”
Michael forced himself to meet his gaze. He smiled ruefully. “I guess so. I’m sorry, I can’t seem to help it.”
Anthony’s frown was deeper now. “I’ve been around a Vos alpha during the war, and he didn’t react like you after smelling my pre-rut pheromones.”
Michael shrugged. “I doubt he was around you at the peak of your rut.”
“He wasn’t,” Anthony conceded, and Michael relaxed a little.
Silence stretched between them.
“You’re holding your breath,” Anthony stated suddenly.
Michael grimaced. “Yeah.” There was no point denying it. “As I said, your scent makes me feel weird.”
“Weird how?” Anthony said, taking a step closer.
Michael stiffened, his heart hammering as Anthony’s scent filled his lungs. He clenched his jaw against the urge to bare his teeth, even as another instinct pushed him to tilt his throat, to appease the alpha his body still remembered submitting to—however unwillingly.
“Too aggressive,” Michael ground out. “I guess some wires got crossed after I was forced to be around you during your rut.”
Anthony studied him for a moment. “All right,” he said, starting to unbutton his suit jacket.
“What are you doing?” Michael said, his eyes going wide.
Anthony smiled crookedly. “What do you think? Looks like you need to let off some of that aggression. Let’s spar. Come on, take your jacket off.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Michael said, licking his dry lips. “Anyone might enter the room.”
“We can lock the door,” Anthony said, shrugging out of his jacket and starting to unbutton his white shirt.
Michael swallowed. “I’m not sparring with you,” he said with a laugh. “I’m not an idiot, Ant.”
“I promise I’ll go easy on you,” Anthony said with a slight smirk. “Don’t be scared.”
“Fuck you,” Michael said with an eye roll, but he locked the door and reached for the buttons of his jacket. Maybe it was a good idea. Submitting to another alpha physically had likely just confused his biology. Beating Anthony up would help him restore his equilibrium.
Throwing his shirt and jacket on the sofa, he turned back to Anthony and nearly swallowed his tongue when he saw him bare chested.
Over the past few weeks, Michael had worked hard to forget that he knew exactly what his best friend looked like beneath his clothes—how broad those shoulders were, how that chest had felt pressed against his back when—
He cut the thought off, forcing his gaze up to Anthony’s face.
Anthony’s lips curved in a small, almost playful smirk as he beckoned, blue eyes locking on his. “Come on, show me what you’ve got,” he said, the challenge in his expression unmistakable. Alpha to alpha. “If you can, of course.”
Michael saw red.
A growl ripped from his throat as he drove his fist into Anthony’s hard stomach, again and again, until Anthony blocked and countered. The blows hurt like hell, but Michael hardly felt them; his blood was surging with adrenaline, instincts screaming to fight, to dominate, to kill.
Within a minute, his body ached all over, but to his grim satisfaction, Anthony looked just as battered—his dark hair a mess, bruises already blooming across his chest and stomach.
Michael grunted when Anthony caught him in a headlock and wrenched his arm back hard enough to nearly tear it from the socket.
“You done?” Anthony ground out against his ear.
“No,” Michael snarled. Anthony was too close, his scent was too much—so familiar—it made him crazy. He thrashed, fighting to break free, but Anthony’s hold only tightened, his forearm cutting off Michael’s breath.
Growling, Michael bit it hard, all instinct and no thought. The taste of Anthony’s blood exploded in his mouth, so rich and alpha, it made his instincts sing in triumph at having drawn an enemy’s blood.
Anthony cursed and slammed him face-first into the wall. “Enough,” he commanded in his Voice.
Michael’s body went slack, like a doll with its strings cut.
He stared at the wall in front of him in blank horror, trying to move, to do something, but his body was completely boneless.
The sudden silence and stillness was unnatural.
Even Anthony was still behind him, his body rigid, his scent a sharp mix of annoyance and shock.
Of course he was shocked. An alpha’s Voice normally didn’t work on other alphas.
An alpha’s Voice was basically an evolution of Xeus alphas’ commanding pheromones—it allowed non-shifter alphas to effectively subdue betas and omegas with their Voice alone.
It wasn’t supposed to affect other alphas, at least not enough to subdue them.
And yet Michael felt the Voice sink into his gut, flooding his system until his mind went quiet. Pliant. Submissive.
“What the...” Anthony turned him around and stared at him, his dark brows furrowed.
“I have to go,” Michael managed, his voice hoarse and nothing like his own. He tore free from Anthony’s grasp—the other alpha was too stunned to stop him—and snatched up his clothes. With shaking fingers, he buttoned his shirt and jacket, then stalked out, terror clawing at his insides.
It wasn’t until he was outside that Michael realized he was hard. His cock was so hard it hurt.
He looked down at his crotch blankly, his mind sluggish, unable to process what had just happened. He walked away, reeling.