Regardless of what happened with Kai and Spike, York would always be a pillar of Micah’s heart.
“I’m so glad you’re all right,” Micah said, his voice breaking. “Don’t scare me like that.”
“I’m fine,” York muttered. He looked the slightest bit shaken, still. “Sorry.”
Micah sobbed, stroking York’s back. “I’m sorry we haven’t really talked in a while,” he said when he could catch a breath. “I’m sorry you haven’t felt welcome at home.”
York gulped, the corners of his lips pulling down. “I’m sorry too, Dad.”
Somewhere nearby, Kai said, “This is really sweet, but you’re standing right in the middle of the aisle.”
Spike hushed him. But York heard, and he moved them closer to the wall. Micah held him for a long moment.
When Micah eventually convinced himself that York wasn’t about to vanish, he pulled away, wiping at his eyes. “Sorry. I really embarrass you,” he said to York.
Unlike all the other times when Micah had worried too much about his son, and York had pushed him away, York shrugged now, cracking a tiny smile. “This isn’t so bad.”
“Because you still need him to pay the bills,” Spike muttered.
York scowled. “Speak for yourself.”
Spike flipped him off; Kai glowered.
Micah sighed, blowing his nose. “Can we all start anew?” he asked, glancing around at the three of them. “No more insults. We’re all adults here.”
“York did start it,” Spike said, throwing York a dirty look. “Kai and I are perfectly fine.”
“You all kept a huge fucking secret from me.” York narrowed his eyes.
He was right. And Micah was the one Kai and Spike had been trying to protect. So Micah said, “If there’s anything you’re unhappy about, York, I’m the one to blame. You can take up any grievances with me, not them. I’ll fix things.”
York grumbled, but he seemed to realize that Micah was right. “Fine.”
“So we’ll start on a fresh page,” Micah said, glancing around at the crowd in the emergency room, lowering his voice so any onlookers wouldn’t judge. “York, these are my alphas. Kai and Spike, this is my son. If you could all shake hands...”
It still felt like there were eyes on Micah, though, people wondering what he had paid Kai and Spike, to have them both as his alphas.
Kai and Spike held their hands out. Grudgingly, York took them. They released each other like skin contact was poisonous, but at least they’d done as Micah asked.
Micah waited for York to step away from the brothers, before heading to the payment counter. There, the cashier stared at his scars, too.
Micah stroked his damp hair over the bald patches on his scalp, wishing he’d thought to dry his hair more thoroughly, so it would fluff up and cover the spots more. Then he caught his own reflection in a pane of smooth, dark glass. All the hideous scars. The missing hair. His gnarly fingers.
Behind him, Kai and Spike stood, tall and strong—even the receptionist threw interested glances at them.
The payment couldn’t go through fast enough. By the time he turned back to Kai, Spike, and York, Micah didn’t feel much like talking anymore. “Let’s head home,” he said.
York stayed close to Micah as he leaned heavily on his walking stick; Micah’s fatigue had seeped back into his body.
“I’ll carry Micah,” Spike said.
“I’ll do it,” York retorted.
Spike glanced at York’s bandaged arm. “Maybe in a few months. Kai can’t do it right now, either.”
Spike stopped in front of Micah, his copper eyes searching out Micah’s gaze. “Okay if I carry you?” he murmured, touching Micah’s cheek. Micah’s heart tripped.
“Don’t do that in public,” York grumbled. Spike ignored him.
“We should get Micah home,” Kai said dryly. “And get started on dinner. I’m starving.”
Micah still felt the presence of too many people around them, too many stares. It would be different in the privacy of his own home.
He turned his face away from Spike’s touch, nodding stiffly. “Home would be nice.”
Spike’s gaze didn’t once leave Micah.
In the car, Micah sat in the backseat with York. Spike drove, his gaze darting toward Micah through the rearview mirror. “What’s for dinner? I realized I forgot to ask what you bought at the store,” Spike said.
Micah thought back to his drenched grocery bag, and winced. “Leftovers. Unless you’d rather have dill whipped cream on top of smoked salmon and lemon custard. In which case, we’d need to stop at the store for more.”
He was met with silence. York turned slowly to look at him. “Lemon... custard? And dill?”
Micah smiled sheepishly. “I’ve been craving it.”
“I would try the dill whipped cream,” Kai said. “That sounds interesting.”
“Yeah, well, I’m going to try it all,” Spike said, puffing out his chest. “That’s what a good dad does, right?”
“I don’t think you’ll like it,” Kai answered.
“Ugh.” York looked revolted. “You as a dad. That just reminds that you knocked up—No, wait. I’m not thinking about it.”
Kai narrowed his eyes, looking back over his shoulder. “This isn’t about you. I’ll make some food. The special entree’s really for Micah.”
“You don’t even like dill,” York muttered at Micah.
“I can’t help it. I ate all the artichokes when I was pregnant with you.” Micah looked pointedly at his son. “And now you love artichokes.”
York scowled. “So you’re saying that this—this baby’s gonna like dill whipped cream and lemon custard?”
“Who knows?” Micah touched his belly, unable to help his smile. His baby was in there, somewhere. And it was growing slowly but certainly, a tiny flicker of life that Micah wanted to protect and nurture. It was Kai and Spike’s child.
“I’m not liking that sappy look on your face,” York muttered.
In contrast, Spike and Kai both perked up. “That’s our baby,” Spike said. Kai angled a warm look at Micah, sending a tingle down Micah’s spine.
York looked greener. “I don’t want to know.”
“You’ll have to acknowledge it, you know,” Micah said, squeezing York’s shoulder. “It’ll be your sibling.”
“That’s... awkward,” York said.
Both Kai and Spike looked vaguely uncomfortable. Micah hoped this would work
