Page 6 of A Real Alpha (Lunar City)

Oscar

I sped around the apartment, opening the windows and doors in an attempt to disperse the overwhelming scent of Connor's heat.

It was overpowering—and so damn enticing—that I could barely stand it.

By the time I made it to the kitchen window, my hands were shaking, my cock was tenting the front of my pants to the point of discomfort, and I had to grip the edge of the sink for dear life.

“You're not going after him,” I told myself gruffly. Even though he might welcome me right now.

I squeezed my eyes shut, groaning softly and then forced myself to turn around and look at Roscoe. He was fast asleep in one of the fuzzy sleep suits I'd bought for him, looking like a little angel.

Watching his innocent face, I knew I would do what I’d promised.

Ignoring my own base needs, I went to him and carefully lifted him into my arms. Somehow, he didn't wake up, only shifting and making a cute sound.

My body was already overheating from being so near Connor's pheromones, but I knew it wasn't affecting the baby. Fearing he might get cold, I draped a fuzzy blanket over his tiny form before leaving.

The fresh air helped at once and with that came the reality of what was happening. I was alone with a baby and had never cared for one on my own. His father was currently in my apartment, in pain most likely, needing help from an alpha, like me.

But he hadn't asked me for it, and someone had to put Roscoe first. That would just have to be me.

For a few minutes I strolled, unsure what I was planning on doing for the rest of the day other than avoid the apartment. Soon enough, Roscoe woke up and began to wail and fight me.

“I know, I know, you want your daddy,” I said in a soothing voice, putting him over my shoulder and patting his back until his crying began to quiet.

He wouldn't stop crying completely, though, and finally I realized that he probably needed something. What, I had no idea. Lifting the blanket, I was accosted by the smell emanating from his diaper and winced.

Going from Connor's scent to that , basically gave me an instant headache.

“Alright, diapers,” I muttered, immediately heading toward the pharmacy.

I hadn't seen Connor do it step-by-step, but it couldn't be that hard, could it?

I went through the shop quickly, collecting a pack of diapers and wipes. I paused too long choosing a pack of formula and bottles, clueless. It couldn't hurt to have them for back up if Connor was unable to nurse in his condition. Hopefully Connor didn't mind.

But he did mind. Ignoring all the stares at the now screaming baby on my shoulder, I hurried to the nearest public washroom and pulled down the change table.

Laying Roscoe on top of it, I realized that his diaper had leaked and brown now soaked his onesie.

“Ugh. Okay, disgusting… but I can handle this.”

Roscoe screamed even louder, kicking his legs with a vengeance when I tried to get his clothes off without making the mess even worse.

That turned out to be nearly impossible.

By the time his clothes and diaper were off, I felt like I had to wipe him down from top to bottom—which he really did not like.

Once he had a fresh diaper on, I was sweating, and he was crying so hard I was afraid he was going to choke. I had never seen anyone get so red and flustered before.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, wrapping him tightly in the blanket.

The tight wrap seemed to help at once and guilt filled me realizing that he was probably cold—and maybe hungry, too, because he was still sniffling and fussing.

Unsure what else to do, I went to The Lunar Café, where Sage was about to start closing up. She glanced up, saw what I was holding, and her eyes widened.

“Wash this and fill it with warm water,” I ordered, handing her the small bottle I'd bought.

She arched a brow and did it without saying a word. With a heavy sigh, I sank down into one of the empty booths, feeling exhausted.

“You only left about an hour ago,” Sage said, returning with the bottle. “I don't think you're cut out for babysitting if you're already ready to fall asleep.”

I chuckled and took the bottle, shaking my head. “He's been crying the entire time.”

“Babies cry,” she said matter-of-factly. “It's kind of their thing.”

Shaking my head, I offered Roscoe the bottle. The second the nipple touched his lips, he rattled his face back and forth, mouth open as though searching for the right spot and then eagerly caught it in his mouth and began to drink.

I stared for a moment while he happily gulped down the milk, overcome by the sweetest feeling as he finally settled down.

Sage made a noise above me and when I looked up, she was shaking her head, looking at me.

“You're getting attached,” she said.

I opened my mouth to deny it, but couldn't. There was something about both Connor and Roscoe that made a voice scream inside my head to hold them close, to protect them, to love them.

I bit my lip and looked down at Roscoe. His wide eyes were closed, those tiny eyebrows relaxed. He was so beautiful and the voice inside my head said MINE, loud and clear. Just as it had about Connor.

“I'm in trouble,” I mused.

Sage snorted and went back to sweeping, leaving me in awe of the little angel in my arms.

There was another angel upstairs in my bed, suffering alone.

I knew they hadn't asked for a hero, so why did I feel so strongly that it was my role? Why did I feel like it was—oh. Like it was meant to be...

I swallowed as the overwhelming realization became my truth.

I had never been so drawn to someone so quickly, and it was all consuming, hard to ignore or deny.

My thoughts were about Connor, my desires were all about making him happy.

My life felt as if it had been rewired the second he walked into my café and now everything just felt right. .. well, aside from one thing.

I glanced up at the ceiling, wondering what Connor was doing.

Was he trying his hardest to work through his heat all by himselfwhile his fated mate sat in the café below him with the baby?

The thought made me feel ashamed. I should be there to help him.

I should be taking care of both of them because suddenly everything felt clear.

Roscoe was meant to be my child and Connor, he was meant to be my lover, my life mate, my everything.

Even if it was too much to say so soon, if I was right, he would feel it once he stopped fighting this connection I knew he had to feel, too.

I knew that he would.