“It’s too early. It’s just my hormones,” Dale said. “Go away.”
Greg hesitated. Dale hated lying to him, but he didn’t want his alpha knowing right now. Didn’t want Greg to face just how useless an omega Dale was. Charles had annulled the marriage. With Greg... there wasn’t even a bond for him to break. He could just leave.
Dale bit his lip, hot tears welling up in his eyes.
A sturdy warmth settled down beside him, nestling against his back, his thighs, his calves. Greg circled Dale’s waist with his arms, burying his face in Dale’s neck.
“I’ll wait in the kitchen,” Greg murmured. “If you think of something, tell me what I can do.”
He held Dale for a long moment, until Dale stopped shaking. Then he dragged his wrist down Dale’s arm, pressed a kiss to Dale’s nape, and pulled away, padding out of the bedroom.
Dale clung to his pillow, the information from last night trickling back into his mind. Some omegas would lose their babies closer to term. Some would birth stillborns. Some would miscarry earlier on, even when the ultrasound went fine.
And there was little he could do about it, because he was old. Because his body was no longer what it was at twenty.
Dale sucked in a deep breath, pushing those thoughts away. He had work to do. A lab to lead. He couldn’t let his own worries drag him down.
He peeled himself off the bed, heading to the bathroom.
More hours later, the same sick dread hadn’t dissipated. Greg had visited his office during lunch, and Dale had pasted on a smile, pretending everything was fine.
Except Greg hadn’t believed him then, either. He’d sat close to Dale, rubbing his neck, shrewd eyes studying him. Just like Bernard Hastings watched Dale before he decided Dale wasn’t up to par.
Dale had all but pushed Greg out of his office, locking him out after lunch.
The next classes were hell to get through. Dale couldn’t forget the betrayal in Greg’s eyes, the confusion and worry. And he’d caused it all, keeping his secret from Greg. Knowing he should tell Greg about the risks, so Greg could leave.
Greg had texted him, asking when he wanted to leave for home that evening. Dale had stared at the text message, turning his phone face-down. He didn’t know. And he had no energy left to deal with this.
By the time 7 PM rolled around, Dale still hadn’t replied to Greg’s message. Greg had come to Dale’s office twice, knocking at the door, but Dale had locked it, pretending he wasn’t around.
His belly was still flat. He shouldn’t be this worried about a pregnancy he couldn’t even see.
Weary, Dale pulled on his lab coat, dragging himself to the lab. He had to go home at some point. He had to tell Greg about the baby. He didn’t want to.
In the lab, he found June with a bench full of vials—some on the magnetic stirrer, some set neatly in a grid, some clustered to a side. When the door clicked shut, the rest of the lab occupants looked over. Penny waved from another bench, and Greg’s eyes flickered up from his pipette, his lips growing thin.
Dale’s stomach squeezed. Are you angry?
June peeled off her gloves, hurrying over. He met her at her desk.
“Something’s bothering you,” June muttered, scanning him. “Your eye bags are worse than usual. Like, they’re bad on a whole different magnitude.”
Dale winced. “I didn’t sleep well.”
There were a few other grad students in the lab, and Dale knew both Greg and Penny were listening in. Penny had been eyeing him ever since he started wearing Greg’s aspen scent, but she hadn’t said a thing about it. He was thankful for that.
“It’s not just the sleep, though,” June said.
Dale swallowed, trying not to think about the statistics he’d found. “I’m fine. How is the project going?”
“We’re on schedule. I’ve got experiments for the last three enzymes, and Greg volunteered to verify the procedure for me. Penny’s testing some silver-gold nanoparticle combinations.”
“Right,” Dale said. He followed June to the bench, avoiding the other two sets of eyes on him. Greg hadn’t moved an inch. Penny glanced at him, then at Dale.
“You don’t look so good, Professor,” Penny said, her forehead furrowed. “June’s bringing you home, isn’t she?”
Dale froze, needing to look at Greg, to see how he reacted. “I’d need to know the project status first,” he said. “How have you been doing?”
Penny briefed him on her procedures, and Dale half-listened to her. He sneaked glances at Greg instead, catching his narrowed eyes, his clenched jaw.
Funny how he could read Greg so easily now, when he hadn’t been able to two months ago. Funny, too, how Greg’s disappointment made his own heart ache.
“Very good,” Dale said when Penny stopped talking. “Please keep it up.”
“I do have some questions about the experimental variations, though,” she said with a tiny frown. “Is it okay if I ask you about them later?”
“Sure,” Dale said. “Or you could ask June—she knows just as well what the project needs.”
Penny opened her mouth, glancing at June. Dale hadn’t noticed before, but Penny seemed wary of his first-in-command. Had June said something to her?
Shelving the thought away, Dale stopped briefly next to Greg, breathing in his comforting aspen scent. He wanted to step closer, wanted to lean into his alpha’s chest. Greg’s eyes locked with his. Dale fought down the anxious little whispers of You’d leave if you found out about the baby, and smiled. “Everything okay?”
“Maybe,” Greg said. “You look like you need to go lie down.”
“I...” Dale sagged. He thought about the couch in his office, the soft pillows and wide cushions, and every cell in his body yearned for it. Greg’s chest looked comfortable, too, all flat planes, and Dale remembered the musk of it, the safety of his arms.
“Can you get to the office yourself?” Greg
