Page 19 of Alpha Heat

“He was out of his mind,” Caleb said softly. “I’m not sure what caused him to seek out—” His lips twisted and he bit off the rest of that sentence. “His reasons are his own.”

“He claimed he wasn’t assaulted.”

Caleb’s laugh was bitter. “I suppose it depends on what one calls assault, wouldn’t you agree, doctor?”

“He appeared to have been attacked in the most grievous of ways.”

And Urho had let him drive away alone. He had no excuse for his behavior. He’d been so overwhelmed by the scent of another alpha on Xan’s body, the pheromones of sex and pain layered together. It had roused him deeply and disturbingly. And the iron trace of blood on the air had horrified him in a way that it had no right to horrify a doctor.

He flashed back to Xan’s eyes, normally so lustrous and blue, dark with fear, shadowed with desperation, and wild with pain. Urho shuddered, remembering Xan’s words.“I’m unmanned.”

And the way he’d stated it!

Permanent. Final. Not the temporary ego loss of a man who’s been forced into the submissive position in an unfortunate and disgusting episode of alpha expression. No, there was more to it. A guilty confession. A history.

But there couldn’t be.

Urho wouldn’t believe it. He refused. No alpha would accept being permanently unmanned as a way of life for himself. Especially not an alpha with so much to lose. And Xan, as the heir to a very large fortune, had everything to lose.

“He said he’s…” Urho hated to use the slur.

Being labeled “unmanned” was not only a perversion of nature but it was dangerous. Imprisonment wasn’t even the worst thing that could happen to a man who’d turned his back on the Holy Book of Wolf’s commandments in this damnable way.

Urho squirmed in his chair. “He said he’s…”

“Yes.”

“But he can’t be.”

Caleb’s voice was cool. “And if he is?”

Urho rubbed a hand over his face. “How? He’s an alpha. No alpha would allow such a weakness in themselves.” He stirred restlessly in his chair and lifted his chin, searching for the words that must be true. The words he’d told himself since he’d watched Xan’s taillights disappear the night before. “He fought back. He’s wrong about what happened last night.”

Caleb’s blond lashes blinked rapidly.

“He was assaulted,” Urho went on. “By a man overcome by uncontrollable alpha expression. Perhaps drugs or drink played a role, or some slight to the man’s omega. I don’t know. It was a power play of the most vicious sort, and he fought back. Of course he did.”

Xan was a small alpha; there was no way he could win against a bigger man, and nearly all alphas were bigger than him.

“There was no fight,” Caleb said softly.

“Of course there was a fight. He was injured.” Urho’s stomach churned uneasily.

“He was beaten,” Caleb corrected, his fingers trembling harder as he put his teacup down on the small table between them. “There is a difference.”

Urho stared at Caleb, his stomach roiling. He tried to get a grip on why, exactly, he cared so very much. He’d been a medic in the army and seen terrible things. And he’d recently left his post-military research work at the university behind to pursue a life of service in helping the poor in the Calitan and Delta districts.

He’d seen all sorts of people in his lifetime, depravity of all kinds, and yet somehow what Caleb was implying about Xan seemed more unacceptable than anything he’d witnessed out in the world. The idea that irritating, mouthy, handsome Xan Heelies would truly seek out this kind of treatment was unthinkable.

“He wants this?” Urho whispered, his tongue thick.

“Notthis,” Caleb said, shaking his head. “Who would want to be so abused? But…” he trailed off, his gaze going toward the door, and Urho knew who stood there when Caleb’s eyes took on a gentle expression. “Darling, you should be in bed.”

“I have a visitor, apparently,” Xan said stiffly. He stood with one hand on the doorknob and the other in his pocket. He wore fashionable but loose trousers, and a soft gray sweater with a high collar that brought out the white flecks in his blue irises. His left cheek was distorted with a bruise and his eyes were lifeless shadows, nothing like the dancing, laughing pools Urho had first admired when they’d met.

“A stubborn visitor, according to Ren,” Xan went on, mentioning the name of his housekeeper and the beta servant who’d greeted Urho at the door. “Someone who won’t leave until they see me, or so he was told to tell me. And now that someone is upsetting my omega.” He raised his chin, the small dent in the middle looking deeper in the light from the window.

“I’m not upset,” Caleb said, smiling at Xan warmly. “But I do enjoy your protectiveness, dear.”