Chapter 3
Chapter Three
“Idon’t want to have this conversation with you,” Sidian’s favorite nurse said a few days later, sitting on the edge of the chair next to Sidian’s bed. “The dark circles under your eyes are getting pretty intense. You haven’t been sleeping, have you?”
Sidian bit back the urge to scoff as he stared down at his lap, contrition tugging at his hindbrain and demanding he do anything to rectify whatever mistake he had made to put that edge in the nurse’s voice.
Of all the staff members of the center, Tanner Matthews was the only one Sidian sort of liked, steadfast and reliable in a way that none of the others were.
He never forced Sidian to do anything he didn’t want to do, talked him through every new test and exam, and checked after him like he was concerned for his well-being and not just doing his job.
He was also an omega. Though Tanner wore scent blockers that smothered most of his natural scent, Sidian’s nose was sharper than most. He’d always been able to smell right through them.
Sighing, he lifted a sleeve to his mouth and caught the white fabric between his teeth, worrying it as he tried to think of how to respond.
If Tanner was bringing it up to him, then there was a damned good chance Barnes was making noise that Sidian did not want to hear.
This might be the only chance he had to fix his sleep schedule before the endless rounds of sedatives began.
He regretted letting it happen last time. So many precious hours with his daughter, his precious Amethyst, lost because he refused to do something he knew he needed to do for her sake.
“Sid,” Tanner murmured, the nickname pricking at a barely healed wound in Sidian’s heart, “they’re talking sedation, okay? I don’t want to see that happen to you again.”
His pulse quickened. Sedation did not just mean loss of time with his son; it meant an added layer of vulnerability, and while the staff at the center was disinterested in their so-called patients, some of them weren’t.
Some of them had wandering eyes and wandering hands, and the thought of being unable to shield or protect himself while pregnant threatened to send Sidian’s hindbrain into a panic.
Being trapped in a cycle of his own anxious thoughts never failed to give him a migraine.
And the extra-strength pain pills were bad for the baby, so he’d have to suffer through it alone.
He sighed and tipped his head back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling above him. “I’m trying my best to sleep,” he muttered, smoothing a hand over his stomach just to feel the baby kick. A boy, his son. “Do you think I could just try some hot tea before bed? Maybe that’ll help.”
“I drink some before coming to work,” Tanner said after a moment, and Sidian flashed him a weak smile. “We can try that, I think. Couldn’t hurt, right? Gimme a second.”
He slipped out of the room with the soundless steps that only an omega could perfect, and Sidian breathed a sigh of relief and sank back into the pillows behind him.
He stroked nervous hands over his stomach, smiling faintly when the baby shifted under his touch.
How much longer did he have left with this child?
How many more would Pack Kincaid expect out of him?
His omega status wreaked havoc on his body when he was pregnant, his desire to cause as much trouble and chaos as possible warring with his instincts to submit, to give in, to do everything he could to shield the baby from danger.
But he knew better. Even if he behaved himself, nothing would save him when his next heat arrived.
Because Pack Kincaid would come knocking.
He already expected seeing them at the birth of his son, much as he loathed the thought.
His mind conjured up the memory of that leering smile, foul breathing fanning the side of his face as Dax Kincaid rested a hand low on his stomach. Right above the throbbing, bloody ruin of his torn cunt. “Too bad they won’t let me fuck you like this. I’d love to hear that pretty scream again.”
Sidian’s omega whined, but he swallowed the sound down.
No one who could hear it mattered; omegas didn’t respond to each other’s vocalizations like that, and the betas did nothing more than walk by as if they’d heard nothing at all.
What did Tanner think of such things, though?
Sidian was curious. He wasn’t broken and bruised and hurting like the patients here.
Did he have a pack who waited for him back home, an alpha who paced the halls until his car pulled into the driveway?
What would someone like that think of a job like this?
Maybe it was just a paycheck. Nothing more and nothing less.
The tap of soft-soled canvas shoes drew Sidian back into a sitting position just as Tanner reappeared, a steaming mug in hand. “I added a little milk and honey to sweeten it up for you. If it helps you sleep, I’ll see if I can get Barnes off your case about it. Sound fair?”
“Hell yes.” Sidian offered him a small, halting smile, and Tanner returned it with a grin of his own.
Because there were notes about what he’d do with a good sharp piece of plastic or glass, Sidian wasn’t allowed to just sit with a ceramic mug.
Tanner sat back down in his chair, relaxed as ever while Sidian sipped the tea, sweet and comforting when nothing in this place had been.
He supposed it was because it came from Tanner, who made it hard to know what to expect of him.
His first impression of Tanner was a good one, one that would be hard to live up to for anyone who might come after him.
Blood-soaked and bruised, unraveling at the seams and almost broken, Sidian was thrust into Tanner’s hands to be cleaned up following his first heat spent with Pack Kincaid, and it hadn’t been a pretty sight.
He’d broken the first mirror he’d seen as soon as his eyes landed on the handprint-shaped bruises around his throat, but all Tanner did was sweep him off of his feet and carry him somewhere where the glass slivers didn’t threaten his bare skin.
As far as he could tell, Tanner was a good guy.
Pretty as hell, too, broader through the shoulders than most omegas but with all the right curves, sporting short black hair that looked soft and the kind of brown eyes that made Sidian think of sweet, adoring dogs rather than people.
The harsh white lights of the center washed out everyone who stood beneath him, but there was still a flush of good health to Tanner’s fair skin, and his black-rimmed glasses softened an already gentle face.
Looking at him like that felt like bitter poison, though, so Sidian tried not to do it often.
“Still not messed with any of that?” Tanner tilted his head toward the neat stacks of pillows and blankets on the far side of the room, all waiting to be woven into something resembling a nest.
Sidian snorted. “You think that instinct ever hits in a place like this?”
“No.” Tanner watched him sip the tea, his gaze softening to where Sidian wanted to cringe away from the kindness of it. Such a thing wasn’t for someone like him. “Shouldn’t be nesting in an open room like this, anyway. Nesting rooms are off the main pack bedroom for safety.”
“You have one of those? Fancy nesting rooms, I mean.” Was it overstepping to ask such a thing?
Tanner’s eyes grew distant, almost uncertain. “Yeah. Haven’t used it in the last couple of years, though. You almost done with the tea?”
The sudden shift of conversation told Sidian all he needed to know; he drained the rest of the mug and handed it over. “Yeah. Thanks, Tanner. Promise I’ll get some sleep tonight if you’re good on your word about getting Barnes off my back.”
“I am. I will be.” Tanner stood from his seat, and though it was long past time for him to go, he lingered like stepping away was the last thing he wanted to do. “Goodnight, Sid. Sweet dreams.”
Sidian wished he could pick up what Tanner’s scent was through the blockers, though it eluded him.
There was just enough of it there for him to know what he was looking at, who he was looking at, disarming in a way that no beta’s scent could ever be.
But the actual notes of it were missing, with only the barest hint of a pheromone breaking through.
Sidian curled back into the pillows, reaching for the thin blanket beneath him. “Night, Tanner.”
Despite the comfort of the tea, sleep eluded him.
Sidian stared at the wall opposite him for a long time, counting down the seconds while he stroked soothingly over his belly.
A few answering kicks made his breath catch, his lips twitching despite the utter misery that plagued him day in and day out.
Nothing about him was a proper, true omega…
Except that he bonded with his children instantly, anticipating every stage of their development with a glee that couldn’t be ripped from him.
Even though he knew Pack Kincaid would take his son from him, he couldn’t help but marvel over every little flutter of movement inside of him.
For a few more precious months, the two of them were one, and he’d be able to feel the baby grow stronger and more mobile with every twist and stretch and kick.
He just wished he had his mate to share it with.
If Roman was there with Sidian… He imagined a broad chest spooned against his back, hand resting on top of his, a subtle added protection for their son.
Soft kisses pressed against his hair or the back of his neck or wherever Roman’s mark lingered on his throat, big body warm enough to chase all the chill away from Sidian’s. It was such a pretty fantasy.
But Sidian had fucked it all up without even trying.
His eyelids started to flutter shut if only to escape the future he could never have, and then everything went pitch black.