They wouldn’t have space for him in their lives.
Then Harris had stalked up to him. Said, I think he’s pregnant. No proof yet, though. And that news had jolted through Valen, made him take a second look at his omega.
In the car, Sam’s eyes were red, his shoulders hunched. And a quiet, possessive instinct rolled through Valen, made him step up. He opened the door.
Sam smelled like dahlia, like onions, garlic, and sandalwood. But there was oak on him, too, and honey, and Valen had the vague idea that he’d smelled Sam all sweet like that before.
Stop thinking and hug him, damn it. He needs a hug.
So he reached into the car, helped Sam out of it. Took the tote bag of food from Sam’s hands.
“I’ll take this,” Harris said, lifting the tote bag out of Valen’s grip. He strode up the driveway, leaving Valen with Sam.
Last week was one thing—Sam had been in heat, and they’d all had sex on their minds. This week? Without that urgent need shoving them along, Sam and Valen stood staring at each other, the past hanging between them like a fog.
“What did Harris say to you?” Valen asked. “He hurt you?”
Sam shook his head. “No,” he said, his voice thick. “We talked about some... pretty heavy things. That’s all.”
Back in high school, the only things that had made Sam cry were bullies, his dad’s death, and his failing grades. Valen had helped with the bullies. Tried to help Sam with schoolwork, except he’d sucked at it, too. Couldn’t help with Mr. Brentwood’s death.
Things had been great, back then. Except Sam had walked away from Valen one day, tears in his eyes. Seeing tears on his lashes again... it made Valen stop breathing.
“If Harris ever makes you cry again, tell me, okay?” he said.
Sam nodded, cracking a smile. Gods, he looked beautiful.
Without thinking, Valen wrapped his arms around Sam. Pulled Sam against his chest, fighting the urge to mark him.
Sam tensed, his breath hitching. Valen almost pulled his arms away. But then Sam leaned into Valen, rested his cheek on Valen’s shoulder. He was thin, fragile, and he felt right in Valen’s arms.
Holding Sam, something in Valen’s heart settled. Almost as though he’d found his mate again.
He isn’t yours. Stop thinking he is.
He pressed his nose to the scent gland at Sam’s throat, breathing in. Just like Harris had said, the faint honey scent was stronger there, mingling with Sam’s dahlia scent.
Through his time at the station, Valen had met all sorts of people—including pregnant folk. And they all smelled like honey.
Sam had been in heat last week. He’d said he was on BC, but BC could fail, too, depending on usage and shit like that. And Valen had come inside him, no condom.
If Sam was pregnant... If Valen’s dad found out that he’d knocked someone up... Valen would lose that inheritance safety net he’d tried so long to hang onto.
Kind of a stupid thing to think about, when the odds were, he’d just put a baby inside Sam.
“Hey,” Valen murmured, running his fingers through Sam’s hair. Sam had leaned into him so easily, as though he remembered what they’d shared in the past. “Sam?”
“Yeah?” Sam rasped, swiping at his eyes.
“You were on BC last week, you said.”
Sam nodded.
“Harris says you’re pregnant.” Valen bit his lip. “And I kinda think so, too.”
Sam froze, blinking rapidly. “What?”
“Did you...” Valen hesitated. “Did you sleep with anyone else last week?”
Sam stepped away, meeting Valen’s eyes. His cheeks darkened. “That’s... that’s none of your business, is it?”
“I need to know that I haven’t just knocked you up.”
And now Valen sounded like a jerk. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that.
Sam froze, looking down at his belly. Then he whimpered, pressing his hand to his abdomen. “I can’t be pregnant. I—I mean, I’m on BC.”
But he looked miserable, his eyes darting sideways, as though he were connecting all the little events in his life. Valen held his breath. Heard soft footfalls behind him, Harris coming to stand by them. Harris touched the small of Valen’s back.
Sam gulped, looking up at Harris, then back at Valen. “I wasn’t with anyone other than you guys,” he said haltingly. “It doesn’t... doesn’t mean I’m pregnant.”
His cheeks were flushed scarlet, and that uncertainty in his eyes... Valen wanted to pull him close, wanted to just hold him again.
“We could get you a pregnancy test if you want,” Harris said. “There’s time to go to the store.”
“I’m supposed to be teaching a lesson!” Sam groaned, covering his face. “I don’t... don’t believe I’m pregnant. But I’ve felt weird all week, and I...”
“And you...?” Harris said softly.
“I’ve felt this way before. A long time ago.” Sam hugged himself, his gaze so damn desolate.
Valen reached out, caught his arm. Thought about kissing Sam, but that wouldn’t solve anything.
He thought again on Sam’s words. Realized that if Sam had felt this way before, then it was likely Sam had been pregnant before, too. Harris had speculated about it last week. Valen’s instincts snarled. Someone had given Sam a baby?
“You were pregnant before?” Valen asked, the words so soft he almost didn’t hear himself.
Sam looked away. Nodded. “Miscarried.”
It was right on the tip of Valen’s tongue. Whose was it? Except that was a jackass thing to do. Sam was very likely pregnant right now. And it was very likely Valen’s baby inside him.
Part of him wanted to roar. The other part of him wanted to swear, turn away, and pretend this hadn’t happened.
“I’ve put the food in the fridge,” Harris said. “Let’s take the truck to the store.”
“The class,” Sam groaned.
“Are you on a tight schedule?” Harris asked, studying Sam. Sam shook his head. “Then a half-hour delay isn’t terrible, in my opinion.”
Sam looked at his feet. Touched
