Valen’s breath caught in his throat. “Sam—”
“Love you,” Sam whispered, kissing him on the lips. Valen’s heart thundered. Sam pulled away, offering Valen his wrist.
Valen had hesitated with bonding once, a long time ago. He wasn’t making that mistake again.
He kissed Sam’s wrist. Slid his teeth against Sam’s skin, where the dahlia scent was strongest. Then he bit down hard, and Sam gasped, musk coiling from his skin.
“Valen,” he groaned.
“Mine,” Valen whispered, licking the freshly-broken skin, where a droplet of blood was starting to well up.
“Yours,” Sam murmured, nuzzling his ear.
Hard to believe he had an omega now. That he was sharing his omega with Harris.
“Damn it, V. Put that mask back on,” Harris said across the room. Valen and Sam both jumped.
Didn’t hear you step in. Valen glanced at Harris, expecting to see him pissed again. But there was a tiny smile on Harris’ lips. Valen’s heart leaped.
“I have to return to the station for a bit,” Harris said, looking between them. “You need a ride to the drive-in, Sam?”
“I’m taking the day off,” Sam said. “I checked with Wyatt.”
“All right. Pick you up later?”
“That’s fine.” Sam nodded, his cheeks pink.
Reluctantly, Valen fixed the oxygen mask back on his face. Didn’t want to risk Harris getting pissed at him again.
Harris crossed the ward, his gaze locking with Valen’s. Valen stopped breathing. Wasn’t sure what to say to Harris, when so much had happened. You love me?
Harris leaned in again, same as before, cupping Valen’s head with his palm. He pressed a kiss to Valen’s forehead, his breath warm.
Valen swallowed. A forehead kiss was still some intimacy. He hadn’t messed up everything between Harris and himself.
Harris’ touch lingered in Valen’s hair. Then he looked at Sam, and hesitated.
Sam smiled, tipping his face up. Easy for him to do, when Harris wasn’t pissed at him.
Harris looked at Valen. Valen raised an eyebrow. You need to ask me for permission? But Harris wasn’t looking away. He wanted an answer.
“Kiss him, damn it,” Valen said, coughing again.
Instead of waiting, Sam slipped his hand behind Harris’ nape, and pulled him close. Kissed Harris on the lips.
Sam and Harris were adorable. Hot, too.
Harris pulled away. Looked between Sam and Valen. Then he slipped out of the ward, leaving Valen with his omega.
“You’re sure—” Valen coughed “—sure he loves—”
Sam nodded firmly. “Yes. He told me himself.”
Valen held his breath. Harris hadn’t said it to him. Why hadn’t he? Was he afraid Valen wouldn’t want to hear it, or something?
I’ll give him a week, Valen thought, leaning against Sam. Maybe he’ll tell me then.
21
Valen
A week passed. Sam visited Valen every day in the hospital. Sometimes, Harris visited with him. When Harris left them alone to talk, Sam told Valen about the nights he’d spent with Harris.
It wasn’t as though Sam was particularly forthcoming with the information—Valen had to pry it out of him. Then he heard the ways Harris had been pinning Sam down, filling him up. Harris had been knotting in Sam, too.
Made Valen kind of envious. Harris had never knotted in him.
Every time Sam talked about those nights with Harris, he flushed, embarrassed. Sometimes, Valen would kiss Sam, stroke him until he came. Sam would look at the door in horror, expecting the nurse to walk in. But at least they’d closed the blinds on the hallway window, so it wasn’t terrible. Just risky. Not quite as scandalous as an alpha-alpha relationship, though.
By the time Valen was discharged, Harris still hadn’t said much to him. Yes, he’d visited with Sam. But the private moments Valen shared with him were brief, as though Harris didn’t want to be alone with Valen.
It got Valen’s guts all twisted up, even if he never admitted it.
When he’d spent half a week back home and Harris still hadn’t fucked him, Valen’s patience wore thin.
“You’re still pissed at me, aren’t you?” Valen rasped one afternoon, when Harris had just woken up after a 24-hour shift.
Harris dragged his hand over his face, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “What?”
“You haven’t talked with me at all,” Valen said, rolling over in bed. He’d been put on medical leave for the next week, and had been rotated down to part-time so he could recover. “You haven’t even touched me, for fuck’s sake.”
Harris met his eyes, his expression turning wary. At least Harris had been sleeping in their bed. Sam had returned to his room upstairs. But Valen could still smell the traces of dahlia, the musk from when Harris had brought Sam into their bed.
And even though Sam had said he and Harris both loved Valen, it felt as though they were walking on eggshells around him, like he’d go and do something stupid if they pissed him off.
Valen sat up, breathing through his nose. It didn’t hurt as much now—all he needed was to recover.
Harris locked gazes with him. “You were an idiot back there.”
“That’s it? You’ve been avoiding me because of that?”
Harris sat up. Looked at the blank screen of the TV, his lips thinning. “You disobeyed my orders. I should be kicking you off the team—you’ve done that enough.”
He wasn’t joking, either. Valen’s stomach dropped. If Harris fired him... what would he do? Where would he go? “You didn’t have to extract me. Could’ve just seen to the civilians.”
“You think I could?” And now the sleep had fallen completely away from Harris’ face. His eyes flashed. “I haven’t spoken to you about this because you were recovering, damn it!”
“Yeah, I fucked up. I know that.” Valen flipped the covers off, glaring.
“You don’t know how I felt, when I saw Ken running the hoses instead of you.”
Valen held his breath, but Harris didn’t elaborate. “How’d you feel?” Valen asked.
“Pissed.” Maybe there had been more to what Harris felt, but he didn’t say it. Valen couldn’t read his eyes, either. They’d been dating ten months. And Valen had no clue where the hell he stood with Harris.
“I’m not a kid,
