Who fell in love with two people at the same time? Seemed like only Valen did, and he was a special unicorn.
Harris brushed the dirt off his uniform, stepping up to the fire chief’s office. At least he smelled more like dahlia than sandalwood now.
Probably would help if Valen married Sam—Harris wouldn’t have to be aware of Valen’s scent on him all the time.
Besides, Harris didn’t want to go through the heartbreak of losing another omega.
“Come in,” Fred Tolstoy called behind the door.
Harris never envied the chief his job—as station master, Fred’s hours were longer, his responsibilities far heavier. Harris took over when Fred was off-duty, but the bookkeeping, hiring, PR, and all that? That was Fred’s job.
He pushed the door open, stepping into the small office. Ring folders lined the shelves, and plaques hung on the walls. The place smelled like smoke and birch—the fire chief’s scent.
Behind the desk, Fred Tolstoy’s eyes were weary, his mouth a thin line. He had Valen’s looks—the blond hair, the russet eyes—but their similarities stopped there.
Valen’s hair hadn’t grayed yet, and his eyes had that indomitable life to them.
Harris would’ve wondered what was wrong with himself, attracted to another alpha, except talking to Valen’s dad proved that Harris did not like all alphas. Just Valen.
“You wanted a meeting, Fred,” Harris said, taking a seat across from his boss.
“Yeah, about the annual party,” Fred said, nostrils flaring. “Valen fought with you again?”
Harris sighed. The scent suppressants didn’t work quite that well. “He did.”
Fred narrowed his eyes. “That bastard. Send him in when you head out. I’ll give him a warning.”
“No, that isn’t necessary,” Harris said. “It wasn’t his fault. I set him off. Could’ve been a little more lenient when I told him off for the inventory.”
Harris definitely couldn’t mention that Valen had rocked his hips up against Harris’, his head tipped back in pleasure.
“That boy needs a firm hand,” Fred muttered. “Slap him around. He’ll come to his senses.”
“He’s an adult, Fred,” Harris said. “Maybe we shouldn’t discipline him with violence.”
“Just means you hit him harder,” Fred said. “You going soft, Fields? Is Valen pleading for leniency?”
Harris fought the urge to growl. He’s your son. Not some thug to beat around. Do you hear yourself? But he swallowed those words. The damage had been done on Valen. Maybe if Valen hadn’t been violent with Harris, if Valen had never resorted to violence at all, Harris wouldn’t have gotten together with him.
Instead, Valen had tried punching Harris, had kicked and lunged at him, and they’d broken some things in the station. Then they’d kissed and fucked, and Harris had ended up with a lover.
“All I’m saying is, maybe he’ll understand things even without being hit,” Harris said. Is that so difficult to understand?
Fred snorted. “If you can’t do it, Harris, leave it to me.”
“I’ll handle it,” Harris said. “It’s not something you need to bother with.”
“Good.” Fred leaned back in his seat, rubbing his knuckles. “So, the department party. Pain in the ass, getting everyone in at the same time. You have any suggestions for it? The guys have been wanting to bring their mates along.”
Harris shrugged. The party wasn’t for a few months yet. “If that’s what they want. I don’t see a problem.”
“You have a mate?” Fred’s nostrils flared. “I never smell one on you. Truthfully, I’d hate to be the only one without.”
It took Harris a while to find an answer. Valen was his lover, not a mate. And between Valen and himself, they were fine with keeping low. If Valen ever showed up at the station as Harris’ lover... Fred might blow his top.
Alpha-alpha bonds were almost unheard-of. Marriage wasn’t even legal between alphas in most states. Then there’d been the criminal alpha-alpha pairs on TV a couple decades ago, bank robbers and murderers, bits of juicy news that had aired on national TV.
Despite his dislike for Fred Tolstoy, Harris was still friends with his boss. They’d hung out years back, when Harris hadn’t known about Valen’s existence. Hard to meet up with Fred off-work these days—Harris had no desire to.
If Fred ever found out about his relationship with Valen... Harris would lose Fred’s respect, perhaps even his job.
Not something he wanted to risk, when he’d just promised Sam he’d pay for that baby.
“No mate,” Harris said, his thoughts lingering on midnight-blue eyes.
“Good thing we’re all alphas here,” Fred said, nodding toward the door. “Otherwise the workplace relations would be hell to deal with.”
“Yeah.”
The station alarm blared. Harris’ heart kicked. It always gave him a rush, heading out on a rescue.
Fred glanced at his screen. “Omega, 25. Pregnant, injured in a knife fight.”
Harris sucked in a breath, his stomach turning. “Fatal?”
“Might be.” Fred’s eyebrows had drawn low, his shoulders straightening.
As Harris hurried out of the chief’s office, he couldn’t help picturing the blood—so much blood.
It’s a uterine rupture, the doctor had said. The odds are low. Harris had been there, holding Nicholas’ hand as he pushed. Then Nicholas had screamed, and the doctor and midwife’s expressions had gone tight.
Nicholas’ abdomen had torn. The baby had asphyxiated. Harris hadn’t been able to do anything as blood soaked into the mattress, Nic’s life bleeding out of him. The heart monitor had beeped and beeped, and Nicholas’ hand had gone weak in Harris’ grip.
He shoved the memories aside, his chest aching. He’d get on this case, save an omega’s life.
Didn’t want to think about Sam, and the possibility that he could go just as quickly as Nicholas had.
Don’t fall in love, Harris told himself. He couldn’t risk it.
Then he focused on getting his team out. No time for regrets.
13
Sam
The week after the downed power line, Harris picked Sam up in Valen’s truck.
It wasn’t just Harris, either. The moment Sam stepped out of Wy’s Drive-In, Valen hopped out of the passenger door. Then he pulled Sam into his arms, pressed a deep, toe-curling kiss to Sam’s lips. Sam groaned.
“We’ve been missing you all week,” Valen
