10. Theo #2
I think for a moment and then nod. “Yes.”
Dr. Mercer leans forward slightly. “I need you to say what you understand it means.”
I look at her, then at Zana, then at Idris.
My face heats again, but the words come more steadily than I expect.
“It means Idris bites me, but it’s temporary.
It will fade unless I choose to make it more later.
It means my body recognizes him as one of my Alphas for care and placement.
It means Garrett can’t say he’s the only Alpha with standing over me. ”
Zana’s expression softens for half a second. “Yes.”
“It means I’m choosing,” I add. “Not because Garrett scared me. Because Garrett scared me and I still get to choose who touches me.”
Idris makes a sound like the words have hurt him. “Theo.”
I turn toward him before he can say anything else. “I want you to.”
He nods once, but he doesn't reach for me. “This bite gives us standing tonight. It makes my body part of your protection in a way Garrett can’t talk over. But it doesn’t decide the rest of your life.
We can let it stay shallow. We can reinforce it later if you want.
We can leave it as protection and revisit everything when Callie is home and you’re not afraid.
” His voice breaks just a little on Callie’s name.
“You don't owe me forever because Garrett made paperwork out of your fear.”
My eyes sting. “And if I want it again later?”
“Then you ask me.” Idris’ gaze holds mine, steady and dark and full of things he won't push into the room. “And I give it to you properly. With no lawyer watching, no threat at the door, and everyone you want close enough to hold.”
A soft, embarrassed sound catches in my throat. I cover my mouth with Callie’s sweater, mortified, but Sloane’s thumb strokes once over my ankle, and Idris doesn't smile. He only looks at me like the sound is something he has been trusted with.
Dr. Mercer clears her throat gently, not to interrupt the feeling, but to give me somewhere else to look.
“I’m going to check your pulse and temperature before we proceed.
Then you’ll sign first. Idris signs after.
Zana and I witness. At any point before the bite, you can stop.
After the bite, if your body reacts badly, I’ll treat you. ”
“And if Garrett tries to come in?” I ask.
Sloane’s answer is immediate, low and certain. “He gets through me first.”
Idris looks at him, then at Zana, and his mouth tightens as if he knows violence isn't the answer she wants in a room with documents. Zana caps her pen with a deliberate click. “Garrett doesn't enter this room. I informed him in writing five minutes ago that any attempt to participate in Theo’s medical-legal care conference without Theo’s consent will be documented as interference.”
My heart gives one hard, frightened beat. “You told him?”
“I told him the door is closed,” Zana says. “That isn't the same thing as inviting him to knock.”
I listen for footsteps. There are none. Still, my body keeps waiting.
Dr. Mercer takes my vitals with efficient hands.
She asks each time before she touches me, and I answer each time with words.
The cuff squeezes my arm. The thermometer beeps.
Her fingers press lightly to the inside of my wrist, and I watch Idris watching the contact, not jealous, not impatient, just attentive.
Sloane keeps his hand open on the blanket near my knee, and when my fingers drift toward him, he lets me take two of his.
Zana places the document on a clipboard across my lap.
The language is cold. I knew it would be.
It says I consent to a temporary witnessed Alpha bite from Idris Ward.
It says I understand the bite creates temporary biological standing for Idris Ward as one of my Alphas for care and placement purposes.
It says I'm not under command, coercion, or heat impairment severe enough to prevent consent. It says I may request later review of the bite’s status and any placement actions taken under it.
My name sits at the bottom with a blank line beside it.
Theo Mehra.
For a second, seeing my full name there almost takes me apart.
Bellwether used my full name on every form.
Garrett used it when he wanted me to remember structure.
The fake messages used it with my picture, my name turned into a door closing on Callie.
I press the pen to the paper and make my hand move anyway.
The signature comes out shaky, but it is mine.
Zana signs beneath me as legal witness. Dr. Mercer signs as medical witness. Idris signs last before the bite, his handwriting steady except for the first letter, where the pen presses too hard and leaves a dark spot in the paper. I notice. He notices me noticing. Neither of us says anything.
“Where do you want the bite?” Dr. Mercer asks.
My face heats again. I look at Idris because I don't know the answer. His eyes move from my face to the place where my hoodie covers the curve between my neck and shoulder, then back up without lingering.
“Somewhere easy to document, easy to monitor, and easy for you to cover if you want privacy,” he says. “Shoulder is cleanest. Neck is more intense. Wrist is possible, but less stable.”
“Shoulder,” I say quickly, then breathe because quick doesn't mean wrong. “Shoulder.”
Sloane shifts beside me. “Do you want me behind you or beside you?”
The question almost hurts because it gives me another choice, and choices still feel new enough to bruise.
“Beside,” I say. “I want to see Idris.”
Sloane nods, and the pain that crosses his face is brief but real.
He helps me sit forward, careful of my blanket and Callie’s sweater, then stays at my side with his hand in mine.
Idris moves from the sofa to the floor in front of me, kneeling so I'm above him.
The position makes something in my chest loosen.
“May I move your hoodie?” he asks.
“Yes.”
His fingers brush the collar, and my body shivers so hard I hear my own breath catch.
He pauses, looking up at me from beneath dark lashes, and waits until I nod again.
Then he eases the hoodie off one shoulder, only enough to expose skin.
The room is warm, but air touches me like water, and I grip Sloane’s hand tighter.
Idris comes closer, careful enough that my body recognizes the question before the bite ever happens. He places his good hand lightly at my ribs, not holding me in place, only giving me a point to lean against.
“Last check,” Dr. Mercer says. “Theo, do you still consent?”
I look at Idris. His mouth is close to my shoulder, but he hasn’t lowered his head. He won't move until I give him the words.
“Yes,” I say. “I consent.”