Page 17

Ersa

Three months later.

E rsa never imagined he’d find himself in this position again—his family gathered in the guest room, their voices low and worried, discussing him like he wasn’t just down the hall, listening. It was too familiar, too painful. Once again, he had no alpha, no cub to care for. Once again, his life had shattered in the blink of an eye, leaving him with nothing but the hollow ache in his chest and the deafening silence where his happiness used to be.

Tears welled up, and he blinked them away furiously. He was still surprised he could cry at all—after everything, it felt like he should’ve run out of tears long ago. But the heartbreak was fresh, too raw.

From the other room, his family’s muffled voices drifted through the walls.

“What are we going to do?” His mother’s voice cracked with fear. “His belly’s growing bigger. He can’t go on like this.”

“There must be a way to stop the false pregnancy,” his dad said, his tone gentle but strained.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” his mother whispered. “The emotional toll… the devastation… it’ll destroy him. I’ve seen what it can do to omegas. This—this might kill him.”

“But we can’t let him keep living like this,” his father insisted, frustration and helplessness clear in his voice.

“I know,” his mother whispered. The quiet agony in her words twisted the knife already lodged deep in Ersa’s chest.

He knew they were right. It was time—time to stop holding on to something that was already gone. He couldn’t go back to caring for Benjn, couldn’t go back to Xander’s arms, no matter how desperately his heart ached for them. That life… that dream… it was over. And the longer he clung to it, the harder it would be to let go.

Sucking in a shaky breath, Ersa pushed himself out of bed, his limbs heavy and his body weak. The room spun slightly, and he had to steady himself against the wall as he made his way to the washroom. His sleeping shirt clung uncomfortably to his skin—cold, damp, and sticky—making him shudder. Reaching the mirror, Ersa lifted his soaked shirt with trembling fingers and stared at his reflection. His mounds had grown heavier, fuller, aching and swollen with milk his body had no reason to produce. The pumps he used only seemed to make it worse, convincing his body even further that it was nurturing a life that had never existed. His belly had changed too, rounding out and stretching his skin taut as if cradling a cub. And it was growing far too fast—faster than he could keep up with—as if there were more than one cub inside. But there was nothing. He knew better.

It was just the hormones—the drugs they’d used to trick his body into this state. Still, there were moments when he wasn’t sure anymore. Moments when he swore he felt tiny flutters, faint movements deep in his abdomen, and the sheer hope of it nearly drove him mad. That was the most dangerous part—the way his mind started to believe the lie his body told so convincingly.

It was time to stop. He had to stop before the fantasy became too real, before the ache of losing something he never had destroyed him completely. And besides, he couldn’t stay here, hidden away in his parents’ house. He had to return to the commune house since he lost his job. To do that, he needed to go back to normal—whatever “normal” would even mean now.

Turning away from the mirror, he stripped off the damp shirt clinging to his skin and cleaned up quickly, trying not to focus on the way even the simplest touch made his body feel alien. When he dressed, the clothes stretched tight across his changed form, uncomfortable and unfamiliar. He’d need new clothes—bigger ones—but there was no point in shopping for clothes meant for a body he didn’t plan to keep.

When he was finally ready, he went in search of his mother and found her in the cooking station. The hushed meeting had ended, but the air still felt heavy with the words they’d spoken.

“Will you come with me to the health center?” Ersa asked quietly.

His mother’s head snapped up, guilt flickering across her face. “Yes, of course,” she said quickly. “I was just coming to talk to you, actually. I think… I think we should do something about the false pregnancy before things get out of hand.”

“I agree,” Ersa whispered.

His mother’s shoulders sagged with visible relief. She stood and wrapped her arms around Ersa in a warm, gentle embrace. “I’m so sorry things didn’t work out with Xander,” she murmured. “I truly hoped you’d found your happiness.”

“I know,” Ersa said, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from crying. He pulled away quickly, wiping at his eyes before the tears could fall. “Go get ready. I’ll wait outside.”

“No—wait inside,” his mother said, her voice full of soft concern. “I don’t want you on your feet.”

“Okay,” Ersa whispered, too tired to argue. He made his way to the sitting area, curling up on the couch as he waited, trying not to think of everything he had to do. Or how much it already hurt.

His mother came down a few minutes later, and then they were off. The journey to the health center was quiet, heavy with unspoken emotions. The bittersweet ache in Ersa’s chest grew sharper as memories surfaced—of a different time, when hope still felt possible—and the contrast was so stark it left him breathless. It felt like a lifetime ago. So much had happened since then, and now, here he was, right back where he started. Alone. And about to let go of the last piece of a dream he’d dared to believe in.

When they arrived, they made their way to the Omega Health Care Wing. The familiar scent of antiseptic drifted through the air, and Ersa tried not to let it overwhelm him. Nora wasn’t on duty, which only made the experience harder. The nurse who attended him was kind but clinical, guiding him through a series of tests that left him drained and aching. By the time they were done, his limbs felt like lead, and the effort of keeping himself together was becoming unbearable.

“I’ll take you back to the reception area,” the nurse said gently, helping him up. “Dr. Alora is still with another patient, but he shouldn’t be long.”

Ersa’s body protested every step, and by the time they reached the waiting room, the tightness in his throat threatened to spill into tears. But then—like a miracle—he saw her.

“Nora!” His voice broke, relief washing over him as the nurse signed into duty.

“Ersa?” She hurried to his side, concern etched across her face as she helped him into the nearest couch. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

He nodded quickly, not trusting himself to speak. If she was going to find out why he was here, it wouldn’t be from him. Dr. Alora would explain.

As if summoned by his thoughts, his name was called.

“Do you want me to come with you?” his mother asked softly.

“Yes, please,” Ersa whispered, his composure cracking. “I don’t think I can do this alone.”

Nora helped him down the hallway to Dr. Alora’s office, his mother following close behind. When they entered, the room felt strangely still, heavy with an almost palpable tension. Dr. Alora stood behind his desk, eyes fixed on his e-reader, his expression frozen in disbelief.

“Doctor?” Ersa asked, his heart beginning to race. “Is something wrong?”

The alpha looked up slowly, and the moment his gaze landed on Ersa, his entire body seemed to deflate.

“Please,” he said after a long pause, gesturing toward the chairs. “Sit down.”

Ersa didn’t hesitate. As soon as his mother settled beside him, he reached for her hand, clutching it tightly.

Dr. Alora glanced at Nora, then back at the screen, his face drawn with confusion. “Maybe we should connect with Master Quin and Sirhe.”

“The director?” Nora’s brow furrowed. “Why would we need to—”

“Because it’s the best way to handle this,” Dr. Alora interrupted, dragging a hand down his face. “This… this has never happened before. You ran his tests right after his heat, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Nora said slowly, her voice tinged with apprehension.

“And there were no signs of pregnancy then?”

“None.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” the doctor pressed.

“I’m sure,” Nora insisted. “He came in sick. I gave him something for the nausea and…” She trailed off, her face going pale. “The medication. It… it must have interfered with the results. It gave a false negative.”

“That’s it,” Dr. Alora said, his eyes wide with realization. “I wondered why the tests showed nothing. But now—”

“What are you talking about?” Ersa’s mother demanded, her grip on his hand tightening. “What’s happening?”

The doctor looked straight at Ersa, his face softening. “You’re pregnant.”

The words didn’t register at first. They floated around him like a distant echo, too surreal to hold on to. His heart stopped—and then slammed back into motion, thundering against his ribs.

“What?” His mother’s voice rose in pitch, her shock mirroring his own.

“We’ll run more tests to be absolutely sure,” Dr. Alora said, his voice calm but gentle. “But based on the results we have, you’re pregnant.”

Ersa stared at him, his vision swimming. His hand drifted down, fingers trembling as they traced the curve of his belly. It wasn’t a false pregnancy. It wasn’t a lie his body had been tricked into believing. There was life—real, precious life—growing inside him.

The room spun around him. Emotions burst inside his chest, a whirlwind of shock, joy, fear, and a love so fierce it nearly brought him to his knees.

“We can discuss your options,” Dr. Alora continued gently. “The center will take full responsibility for the mistake and support any decision you make. I truly apologize for—”

“I’m keeping it.” The words came out in a rush, his voice shaking with conviction.

“Ersa—” his mother began.

“No!” He pushed himself to his feet, his breath ragged. “It’s mine. This is my cub.” Tears streamed down his face, but he didn’t care. Xander had his life—his cub, his bond mate. He had this. He had been ready to let go of everything, but the universe had given him one last piece of hope. He wasn’t going to let anyone take that away from him.

“Mother, let’s go.”

Ersa didn’t wait for a response. He turned and waddled toward the door, moving as fast as his unsteady body allowed. Every step felt frantic, driven by a desperate need to protect the tiny life inside him.

No one was going to take this cub from him. Not now.

Not ever.

***

Xander

Fury’s face filled the screen, his expression bright with excitement. “We should think about a launch party,” he said, his fingers flying across the console as he pulled up a series of charts and reviews. The numbers climbed in vivid bars, glowing with success. “Do you see how well the waste bot is doing? A fun event to celebrate and officially launch the bot would be amazing. The publicity alone—”

“You know I was never into things like that,” Xander cut in, his voice heavy with exhaustion. He rubbed at his temples, the ache behind his eyes growing sharper. “Besides, we’ve never done it before. Why start now?”

Fury went quiet, his sharp eyes fixed on Xander through the screen. Xander could feel the weight of that gaze, even across the distance—probing, concerned.

“What?” Xander asked, his tone defensive.

“Are you okay?” Fury’s voice softened.

Xander shrugged, turning to stare out the window. Outside, the sky was a heavy blanket of grey, clouds hanging low and thick — a reflection of the storm churning inside him. “I’m fine,” he said at last, though the words felt hollow.

Fury didn’t look convinced. “Mother’s been thinking of coming to visit. She’s worried—about you, Benjn, and Ersa. She hasn’t been sleeping. She wanted to come sooner, but she didn’t want to push you.”

“Tell her to come,” Xander said quietly. “It would be nice to have her here.”

“Alright,” Fury said softly. “Stay strong. And tell me if you need anything, okay?”

“I will,” Xander promised, though he knew he wouldn’t. He ended the call, the screen going dark with a soft click. Stretching his arms over his head, he tried to shake off the heaviness clinging to his bones.

But then Benjn’s cries pierced the silence.

The sound was thin and distressed, rising in intensity. Xander waited, expecting someone—anyone—to soothe the cub. But the cries only grew louder, more frantic.

Frowning, he pushed to his feet and followed the sound down the hallway. When he reached the nursery, the sight that met him stopped him cold.

Nath stood over the crib, his body frozen in place. He stared down at Benjn with wide, unblinking eyes, his arms hanging limply at his sides. He didn’t move. He didn’t reach out. He just stood there, as though he didn’t know what to do.

The cub wailed, tiny fists flailing, and still, Nath did nothing.

“What are you doing?” Xander snapped, his frustration spilling over as he strode into the room and scooped Benjn into his arms. The cub quieted almost instantly, snuggling against Xander’s chest with hiccupping sobs. “He’s been crying for five minutes, and you’re just standing there! Why would you do that? He’s just a cub, Nath!”

“I—I’m sorry,” Nath whispered, his voice ragged and strained. He looked… lost. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s been three months—I should know how to soothe him by now. I should know how to feed him. But I can’t seem to get anything right. He doesn’t respond to me. I try—I swear I try—but nothing works. I feel broken.”

Xander’s first instinct was to lash out—to remind Nath of everything he’d ruined, of what they’d lost because of him. But when he looked at the omega’s face, the words died in his throat.

Nath’s eyes were hollow, his expression a mask of pain and fear. He was drowning, and Xander couldn’t bring himself to push him under.

“It’s going to take time,” Xander said instead, his voice gentler. “You have to give yourself a chance to adjust.”

Nath shook his head, tears spilling down his cheeks. “No. I don’t think I can. I’m sorry, Xander. I don’t—I don’t belong here.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. Xander stared at him, his mind scrambling to catch up. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t know,” Nath whispered, his eyes darting around the room. He looked like a caged animal—scared and ready to bolt.

“Wait,” Xander said quickly. “Just wait here.”

“Vina!” Xander called as he rushed out of the room. He met Vina in the hallway and handed Benjn over to her before hurrying back. Nath hadn’t moved. He stood exactly where Xander had left him, his arms wrapped around his waist as though trying to hold himself together.

Without a word, Xander pulled the trembling omega into his arms.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” Xander murmured. “I promise.”

Slowly, the shaking eased. When Nath seemed calm enough, Xander guided him to the settee and helped him sit down.

“What’s wrong with me?” Nath whispered after a long silence. “Why can’t I take care of my own cub? Every time he cries, I freeze. I get so scared—and I don’t know why. When he was born, I could barely tolerate being near him. I thought I’d get better. I thought I was healed. But it’s still there—this fear I can’t explain.”

“It’s normal,” Xander said softly. “Every new parent is scared. They just… push through it. For their cub’s sake.”

“I don’t know how.” Nath’s voice broke on the words, and the despair in his face twisted something sharp and painful in Xander’s chest. “I shouldn’t have come back. I see that now. That omega—he was good for Benjn. And for you. I could tell how much he loved you both. He was willing to fight for you. But I think… I think he felt sorry for me.”

“He lost his cub three years ago,” Xander said quietly. “He understands how you feel.”

Nath nodded slowly, his gaze distant. “I saw you two on the news,” he said after a moment. “You looked so good together. Perfect. And I—” His voice wavered. “I was so jealous. I kept wondering why you were never like that with me. I wanted you to look at me the way you looked at him. But it’s him, isn’t it? He brings out the alpha in you.”

“Yes,” Xander admitted, the word aching with longing.

For a long moment, Nath said nothing. Then, with a deep, shuddering breath, he whispered, “I’m going back to the center. Our bond is already broken. We can just go our separate ways. Benjn deserves a parent who isn’t scared of him—a parent who can love him the way he deserves.” He turned to Xander, his eyes swimming with unshed tears. “You’ll let me see him sometimes, right?”

Xander sat there in stunned silence, struggling to process what he was hearing.

“Xander?” Nath’s voice was soft.

“Of course,” Xander finally managed.

Nath rose to his feet, still frail but steadier than before. “Go to him,” he said quietly. “Take Benjn with you. I’m sure he missed him. And I—I’ll find my own way to the health center.”

“I’ll ask Hicks to take you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know,” Xander said. “But I want to.” He stood, wrapping the omega in a gentle embrace. “Thank you, Nath.”

“Go,” Nath whispered, pulling away. “And tell him… tell him thank you for taking care of our son.”

Xander didn’t waste another second. He packed a bag for Benjn, made sure everything was in place, and called for a shuttle.

As he stepped out of the house, his heart pounded in his chest, excitement and fear warring inside him.

Then his connector went off.

Dr. Alora’s code flashed on the screen, and Xander’s stomach twisted as he wondered what was going on.

He answered with a shaking hand. “Hello?”