IMPORTANT REMINDER:

If the whole concept of omegaverse and mpreg are new to you, please don't skip the Introduction.

 

⚠️ TRIGGER / CONTENT WARNING:

This story contains explicit sex scenes and references to illegal drug use that may be inappropriate for some readers.

 

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2032.

A person's seventh birthday can be a big deal. It's the earliest age for secondary-sex traits to manifest – the time when the mills of fate begin to grind slowly for a person. But for Florence Dahlia Dumont, it was, more than anything, a gathering to celebrate life with all her loved ones.

Flo has grown into a beautiful girl taking the best of both from her mother and father. Already she's grown strong and resolute but can be quiet and reticent at times. She has her Dad's soft way of laughing, but has her Papa Milou's often unpredictable mood swings.

Flo's eyes have the same light-brown hue as her mother's, which at times became a painful reminder for Saliou. The child's quick charm lights up those hazelnut eyes and if he looked long enough, he could see a vestige of Milou's soul in them.

Flo is a good-natured, if a little mysterious, young girl who candidly spreads the warmth of her love throughout her family and friends. Sometimes she can be an open book, other times she can be a complete enigma. But if one were to guess whether she's Alpha or Omega, well, it was too early to tell, even on her seventh birthday.

It was looking to be a memorable birthday celebration for everyone at the party. Summer was nearing its end and it was the perfect time for a garden party at Wren Dumont's newly renovated home in Idomouth.

Swarms of screaming and giggling children ran through the well-kept garden and around the house as bubbles danced in the air. Pink and lavender foil balloons drifted around aimlessly among multicolored confetti scattered frivolously on the ground, while pink-and-white banners were draped on top of the entryway and on the fences.

A stack of presents stood in one corner of the garden patio, under a rainbow styro backdrop, with neatly lined stuffed unicorns in various colors and sizes. At the center sat a small girl with a face that wore a grumpy, almost-tearful look - a perfect contrast to her soft and frilly, rainbow-colored tutu.

Saliou Matisse had not realized how difficult it was to organize a children's party, until today. But that was nothing compared to dealing with a child's temper tantrums, especially when it was directed at him.

He wanted everything to go off without a hitch for Flo's sake, but it's been almost half an hour since the party started and the birthday cake he'd promised her still hasn't been delivered.

Saliou sat just a few feet away from where Flo was, sharing a table with his mother and Wren. He kept giving his niece an apologetic look and mouthing a silent 'Sorry', but the little girl just kept glaring hard enough to bore a hole through him.

"I should probably go to her," Wren said, chuckling. "How many minutes 'til the cake arrives, Sal?"

Saliou took a sip from his wine glass while using his other hand to check on his phone. "No more than ten minutes," he replied to Wren. "I'm so sorry about this. The delivery truck broke down and had to be fixed first..."

"It's alright. I'll make sure to let Flo know it's not your fault." Wren stood up and slowly made his way towards his teary-eyed daughter.

Saliou sighed deeply as he laid his phone on top of the table and poured himself another glass of wine. "The cake was ready since last night, but this just has to happen," he murmured sullenly as he glanced sideways at his mother, who sat beside him with her legs crossed at the knee, sipping a glass of white wine.

As if Saliou wasn't feeling horrible enough, Mrs. Matisse said, teasingly, "She was looking forward to it all day, you know. A three-layered unicorn cake was all she could brag about to her friend Lola, who only had a two-tiered cake on her birthday last week."

"Jeez, Mom. Thanks." Saliou grunted as he ran a hand over his face.

"Kids will be kids. Survive the temper tantrums and everything else will be a piece of cake." Mrs. Matisse laughed playfully. "No pun intended, darling."

Saliou snorted. "Mom, enough. I'm already feeling shitty as it is."

For a moment, both he and Mrs. Matisse watched the scene before them in comfortable silence. Just across them, Wren was trying his best to quiet his daughter's agitation, but seemed to be failing miserably. Flo folded her arms tightly across her chest, her face turned away from her father, shaking off his attempt to calm her down.

Mrs. Matisse chortled. "Look at that. She's so much like Lou when she's sulking like that." She turned her head back to Saliou. "Don't you think so too, darling?"

"Yup... She takes after her mother. A lot." Saliou went quiet.

Mrs. Matisse suddenly realized that her simple remark may have touched a sensitive matter.

She took another sip of wine. "Speaking of kids," she started, clearing her throat, "when are you going to give your poor old mother some grandbabies?"

Saliou huffed and rolled his eyes. "Mom...! Not this again...!"

"What?" Mrs. Matisse retorted, shrugging her shoulders. "You're not getting any younger, Saliou Matisse. Besides, it'd be nice to see Flo grow up with cousins – with more permanent, lifelong company she can consider her brothers or sisters."

"We've talked about this a million times. Having kids isn't on top of my priority list," replied Saliou straightforwardly. "As a matter of fact, it's so low on my list, I'm planning to adopt a cat instead."

"That's good, dear," Mrs. Matisse said, nodding in approval. "Taking care of a pet is the first step to preparing for a child. You won't want to mess up raising a child after all, and taking care of an animal will give you good lessons on handling your own little human."

Saliou turned to his mother and scowled. "Mom, you don't get my point, do you?" He paused dramatically before saying in a louder voice, "I. Don't. Want. To. Have. Kids. I'm never going to be ready to bow down to some Alpha and pop out babies anytime soon. That's final. End of subject." He said it tartly, wanting to get the message across.

Mrs. Matisse placed a hand on top of Saliou's and pressed it gently. "It's fine if you don't want to have children, dear."

Saliou smiled in satisfaction.

"But if you ever change your mind," Mrs. Matisse pressed on, "allow me to suggest that you do it sooner rather than later."

"Mom, cut it out already. This is downright bullying." Saliou groaned as he took a huge gulp of his wine.

The next couple of minutes were filled with light conversation that had mother and son laughing and frowning at the same time. Afterwards, another silence descended, accompanied by the buzzing of the crowd before them. At this time, Wren had already carried Flo off to her friends, who have gathered to play in a giant bouncy inflatable castle the family had rented for the party. 

"Darling," Mrs. Matisse broke the silence, "I don't mean to pry but, how's your relationship with Wren going?"

For Saliou, that was the big question of the day. The one he'd been avoiding for so long.

"Well enough, I guess," he replied curtly and with a shrug. But his mother was not satisfied with this, and so he added, "It is how it is, Mom. A relationship between brothers-in-law."

"Sal, I know it's been quite rough for the both of you these past years, and you've stuck together for Flo's sake. But... have you two actually... you know, sat down and talked?"

"Well, we see each other on a regular basis," Saliou replied, shrugging his shoulders again. "I see him when I pick up Flo and drop her off from school. I see him before he goes out-of-town and Flo has to stay with me. Sometimes I even see him on weekends when I take Flo out for lunch or to watch movies."

Mrs. Matisse sighed. "That's exactly my point, dear. You just see him, but you two never did talk." She pressed Saliou's hand firmly once more. "You know what I mean, darling..."

Of course, he knew what his mother meant, but he just couldn't find a way to answer her.

It took a moment before he found his voice again. "Well... if your idea of "talk" means a heart-to-heart-conversation, then no, we haven't done that since after Milou's funeral," he replied candidly.

Mrs. Matisse let out a low gasp and covered her mouth with one hand. "That long already?"

Saliou nodded as he lowered his head, staring down blankly on his hand resting on his lap. "We rarely see each other, Mom. And it's never without Flo. And... I honestly want to keep it that way between us. Trust me, it's better this way."

Mrs. Matisse's eyebrows knitted in bewilderment. "Wait, hold on." She leaned closer to her son and lowered her voice. "So you mean to say Wren doesn't know yet about your...?"

Saliou shot his mother a sideways glance. "My what, Mom?"

"You know, about you and – "

Just then, Wren's voice called out to Saliou. "Okay, I managed to convince her to wait another five minutes. All is well – for now," he said as he sat beside Saliou, breathing heavily.

Mrs. Matisse straightened in her seat and offered Wren a glass of wine, which he politely refused. She smiled at him over the rim of her own glass as she took a sip. "Perfect timing. We were just talking about you."

Saliou's mouth hung open, his eyes stared wide and wild with shock.

Mom!

"Me?" Wren asked, smiling as he put his hands on his chest. "What about me?"

"It's nothing. We're just – "

"You two haven't talked in a while, have you?" Mrs. Matisse cut Saliou off. "You need some catching up to do, I believe."

"Mom...!" Saliou hissed under his breath.

"Ah... yes." Wren dropped his gaze and smiled timidly. "It's really been a while, hasn't it?"

Saliou didn't say anything. He just nodded as he pursed his lips into a brittle smile and wrinkled his nose.

"So..." Wren scratched the side of his neck awkwardly. "How are things going for you these days?" he asked after a pause.

"I'm good," replied Saliou. "I've seen better days, but I'm living."

He glanced over his mother, who remained seated, wine glass in hand. She didn't seem like she's going to leave the two of them alone anytime soon, which made him feel relieved.

Good. You can at least do that much for me now that you've put me in this awkward situation.

The last thing Saliou wanted was to be alone with Wren.

"Uhm, how's work? Are you still with the Art Gallery?"

Saliou nodded as he raised the wine glass to his lips. "But I work as their curator now."

"Oh... I see. How long has it been?"

"Four years," Saliou replied, taking a sip of his wine.

Wren's mouth hung open for a moment. "Oh... It's been that long, huh... I see, I see." The brightness in his eyes dulled for a moment as he looked away from Saliou, staring blankly into space. "So that explains Flo's story about your paintings." His lips quirked into a half-smile. "Looks like you're pursuing your true passion now. I'm happy for you."

"Actually, I'm focused on improving my craft at the moment. I'm a member of Glapshire's artist circle now. I hold solo exhibits once in a while, too."

Sitting beside Wren, he thought about how much the other doesn't know about him after years of estrangement - and how in some ways, that's a good thing.

But unlike him, who's satisfied about how things are currently between them, Wren had an obvious look of hurt and disappointment on his face. Saliou half-expected him to shed a tear or two at any moment.

"Time and circumstance really put some distance between us, huh?" Wren said half-jokingly in an attempt to keep the mood light.

"You have no idea how much," Saliou teased back, though he wished he could take it back right that instant as he saw Wren's face fall.

"No, I guess I don't know much about you anymore." Wren sounded so sad and hurt, and Saliou hated it.

"W-Well," Saliou said, "other than that, nothing much has changed with me, really."

Wren forced another smile. "I'd like to see your works one of these days." He looked at Saliou expectantly, but he seemed to have missed the hint. "Come on now, Sal... Won't you even invite me to one of your exhibits?"

"O-Oh!" Saliou exclaimed, laughing uneasily. "Of - Of course. I'll text you once my next exhibit comes up."

"Looking forward to it, then," said Wren. That left him with a brighter expression and a bit of relief in his heart.

But before he had a chance to say anything more, Saliou's phone rang.

For Saliou, that was his cue to get away from the awkward situation. He got up and answered the phone on the second ring.

"Hello? Outside? Okay, okay. Yes, give me a minute." He pulled the phone away from his ear and turned to look at Wren and his mother. "The cake's arrived. I'll go get it." He pressed the phone back to his ear as he hurried down the garden's side pathway to the front of the house.

Wren let out a sigh as he watched Saliou go, but turned when Mrs. Matisse cleared her throat to get his attention. She had been quiet this whole time, Wren almost forgot she was there.

Mrs. Matisse smiled as she slid a glass to Wren. "Would you like the wine now, dear?"

This time, Wren accepted the wine. "Thanks for giving me the chance to talk to him, Mother."

"Come now, dear, you're family now." She absorbed the scene before her as she fiddled with her wine glass, swirling the clear liquid around. "Bitterness and hostility are the last thing you and Saliou need at this time. And this is the perfect opportunity for reconciliation." She reached out and held Wren's hand. "You and Saliou have been suffering for too long. Perhaps now's the time to set aside past differences."

Wren nodded weakly in agreement. "But... I don't think Saliou's ready to forgive me just yet."

"You know how it is with my son," Mrs. Matisse said with a sigh. "He'll warm up when you spend more time with him. He's not that hard to please, you know that."

Wren knows painfully well that fate works in mysterious ways. This time, it seemed to have brought Saliou back around again. Fate is showing him what he needed to see. This time, he didn't want to miss out.

Wren took a sip from his wine before turning to look at the other. "Mother... I still care for Saliou. A lot."

"Oh, honey..." Mrs. Matisse gently rubbed Wren's hand with her thumb. There was a look of concern on her face, of pity. For him.

Mrs. Matisse covered her mouth with her free hand, then looked briefly away from Wren. She appeared to be contemplating; eager to get something off her chest.

"Listen, dear, I'm glad you're making an effort to mend your relationship with Saliou. I really am. But, there's something you need to know... Right now, he's –" She abruptly stopped talking as Wren took a large gulp of his wine.

Wren hoped that the physical attributes of alcohol would give him some much-needed courage for what he's about to do next.

It's true. He and Saliou needed a lot of catching up to do, and this is the perfect time to reconnect – and perhaps rekindle the old flame.

"I'll go and help Saliou," he said to Mrs. Matisse as he got up from his seat and headed in the direction Saliou had gone.

"Hold on, dear, you can't!" Mrs. Matisse called out to the other.

Wren looked back at her and gave a quick wave as he moved down the side pathway.

"Oh dear, oh dear..." Mrs. Matisse muttered to herself as she tentatively waved back, the expression on her face changing from intrigue to one of panic and concern. The moment Wren was out of her sight, she heaved a deep sigh, shook her head, and clamped a hand to her forehead. "Goodness, this isn't going to turn out well..."

Mrs. Matisse refilled her glass with more wine and gulped it down in one go, for good measure.

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Wren was determined to get Saliou back, that's for sure. But after all that's happened between them in the past, he knew it's easier said than done.

Things are not going to be easy, that much is true, but Wren Dumont never backed away from a challenge. Even more so when getting back Saliou's affection was on the line.

The thought of going up to Saliou, taking him back into his arms, which would have been the most natural thing, and which he had meant to do, filled Wren with anticipation.

But as he made his way slowly down the gravel walk towards the main gate, something had been troubling his mind. In fact, it's been bugging him since the day Saliou had started showing up at his door to see Florence.

The thing about having a mate is that an Alpha's sense of smell gets acclimated to their Omega's scent. It happened with Wren the moment Milou got pregnant with Flo. Everyone else's scent seemed faint, almost nonexistent – and that included Saliou's.

But Wren also knew that when one loses their mate, their scent's effect towards the other would gradually fade over time.

It's been seven years since Milou's death. Wren had long freed himself from whatever primal attachment he had with his former mate. Of course, there were times he would miss it, long to once again sense it, but now he could barely even remember Milou's scent.

Because truth be told, he was back to seeking someone else's.

Saliou's scent weakened Wren's will like a drug, quelling the heat brewing inside of him. Two years ago, as soon as the effects of Milou's scent completely wore off, he began seeking Saliou's out once more.

But unlike in the past, Wren now barely senses Saliou's pheromones, even when they're only inches apart. He didn't really smell like an Omega anymore. He didn't even know what it is he smells like. Kind of like... nothing.

It frustrated Wren to no end.

Obviously, Saliou doesn't have a mate yet. No marks on him. No ring on his finger. My sense of smell might've just gone haywire after all these years of being unmated.

Wren was off the porch leading down onto the front yard when he heard faint muffled chatter by the front gate. He couldn't make out what was being said, though he could clearly hear Saliou's voice. Judging from the other person's deep baritone accent, Saliou was talking to a man. And that man was laughing – a loud, hearty laugh.

As Wren got closer, he could hear the voices more clearly and distinctly.

"... but I'm sure she'll forgive me now. This turned out so well. She'll definitely love it," said the voice that was obviously Saliou's.

"Glad to hear that," said the baritone voice. "And please tell Flo I'm sorry. Tell her to come over for free cupcakes. She can have as many as she wants."

Saliou chortled. "Stop it. You're spoiling her too much. She barely even fit into her tutu today."

Wren stopped in his tracks, his eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment.

They're awfully chummy, he remarked to himself, not entirely aware he's already listening to a private conversation.

"Hey, uhm... Don't you want to come over for a bit?" Saliou asked the other.

"Oh gee, I'd love to but, I have to get back to the repair shop to check on the truck. And I need to make a couple more deliveries."

"Mmm, okay then," Saliou replied, sounding a little disappointed. "See you later, then. Careful on your way back."

This time, Wren frowned.

Just who is this person Saliou's talking to?

He hurried down the entrance, trying to get to a spot where he could catch a glimpse of the stranger's face. He continued walking until he finally saw Saliou through the gates, standing next to a red car.

Wren was just about to call Saliou's attention when the scene before him made him freeze in place. There by the driver's side door, Saliou leaned down and kissed an unknown man through the open car window.

And it wasn't just an ordinary kiss. It was a long, deep, and passionate kiss.

Wren's stomach rolled and his heart squeezed in his chest. He wasn't sure what to think. All of a sudden, he felt a little outlandish for sneaking around after Saliou.

For a moment, the couple didn't realize that Wren was standing there watching them. But seconds later, the man inside the car looked up and finally noticed his presence. He quickly glanced at Saliou, who turned to look over his shoulder.

Saliou saw Wren, and his eyes registered surprise, yet only briefly. For just a moment there was a flash of something that looked as though Saliou had been caught in something he wanted to keep secret.

"Uhm, I guess I have to get going now," said the man in the car as he straightened in his seat.

Saliou turned back to him, smiled, and nodded. "Alright. See you later."

For a brief moment, the man inside the car turned to look at Wren one last time.

He looked young, perhaps just a few years older than Saliou. He was wearing a pair of dark-rimmed glasses, nearly covering his rather sleepy yet piercing light-blue eyes. He was dressed in a red-and-white hood jacket. He had all his hair shaved on the sides, leaving only light-gray hair along the middle of his scalp that stood straight up. Taken all together, the man had an unfussy, kind of nerdy look, save for the outrageously colored hair and piercings on both ears.

The man gave Wren a curt nod and turned away to restart the car.

Wren wanted to walk away. He felt as if he had invaded their privacy. Yet at the same time, he was seething mad. He clenched his fists and gnashed his teeth, trying to control his emotions.

Saliou stood and watched the car disappear from sight, then returned inside the house. Holding the large cake box with both hands, he straightened and came toward Wren.

Wren knew he had to say something. He wanted to say something. Words began to form on the tip of his tongue, yet he couldn't bring himself to say them.

He felt confused and since nothing seemed to be coming out of his mouth, he slowly turned around in frustration and began to walk back up the way he came. He walked with his head down, like he always did in contemplative times.

And then, he realized that, what if this was his only chance to have a serious talk with Saliou and he was letting it drift by? He didn't want to waste the opportunity by brooding over something trivial.

Wren stopped and decided to go back over to Saliou, coming to stand right in front of him.

Saliou lowered his eyes to avoid the other's piercing stare. "The cake's here. I'll bring it over to Flo before she starts – "

"What was that just now?" Wren cut him off. His voice was stiff, accusatory.

With a tilt of his head, Saliou shot him a look that read, please. "What was what, Wren?" he demanded, raising an eyebrow.

"Jesus, do I need to spell it out for you?" Wren groaned. "That kiss! What was that all about? Who was that?"

"What, didn't Flo tell you?" Saliou curled his lips into a smirk as he walked past Wren and went up the porch. "His name's Rhys. He's my boyfriend."

Wren whirled around, reached out and grabbed Saliou's wrist.

"Wren!" Saliou yelled as he backed away, nearly dropping the cake box.

"You've got to be kidding me," Wren gave a short, derisive laugh. "What, so you're dating the baker now?"

His sharp words made the heat rush to Saliou's face. He glared at Wren before replying, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself first.

"Yes, Wren. As a matter of fact, he's a baker. But no, it's none of your business who I date," Saliou answered, feeling almost triumphant as he saw the effect this had on Wren.

"I know. You've made that quite clear to me. But seriously...? I know you can do better than that, Sal," Wren said and instantly regretted it. Saliou's eyes had lit up with something, and he was certain it was scorn.

"Jeez, Wren. Thanks. At least now I know what you really think of me."

Saliou turned and stalked away, his long strides carrying him swiftly back to the porch.

Wren followed closely behind. He thought Saliou didn't intend to stop until he reached the dirt path leading to the garden, but then he did.

Saliou stood silently for a moment, his back to Wren, perhaps attempting to compose himself.

"S-Saliou," Wren called out to him. "What I meant to say is that – "

Saliou turned and walked back to face him. "There's one other thing you need to know. And I guess it won't hurt to tell you now." He swallowed hard before saying, "Rhys is my fiancé. We're planning to get married at the end of the year."

Wren's heart sank like a stone. He was frozen in place by the magnitude of this announcement.

"You... You can't be serious," he said bitterly and with cold indignation.

"No?" Saliou looked at him seriously. "Then that's your problem, Wren, not mine. And there's nothing I can do about it."

Once again, Wren reached out and grabbed Saliou by the arm. "This is ridiculous. Why are you doing this to me, Sal?"

"Wren, cut it out!" Saliou tried to shake him off, but he was holding him more firmly now. "You're hurting me. Let me go!"

Wren shook his head and wiped under one of his eyes with an index finger. "You're just doing this to provoke me." He started to giggle, laughing through the tears that were slowly welling up in his eyes. Yet he looked hurt, which only made it worse. "You can stop it now. It won't work on me."

Again Saliou tried to free himself, but in vain. "Me, provoke you?" he sneered. "Tell me why I'd do that, Wren. Why would I waste my time provoking my late brother's husband? I've got no business with you, and you with me!"

"Obviously, you're not thinking straight right now!"

When Wren let go of him, abrupt and sharp in his own wayward emotions, Saliou nearly lost his balance again.

Saliou quickly placed his hand on the wall to keep his balance. "You're out of your damn mind, Wren Dumont!" he spat.

"Please reconsider!" Wren bellowed, sounding almost desperate. "Think about it for a second! Have you forgotten already?"

At this, Saliou scoffed. He let out a sharp breath. "What are you on about?"

"I'm your Alpha!" Wren protested. But the more he talked, the more regretful he became. "Doesn't that mean anything to you at all?" He bit his lip, fought to hold his emotions back.

"No! That doesn't mean anything to me at all!" Saliou snapped, not blinking, not stuttering. "Seriously, did you actually expect I'd still be hung up on you? Don't be so full of yourself!" He was so angry now, he was almost in the brink of tears.

"Think about it for a moment!" Wren interjected. "I - I can give you a better life." He reached out to Saliou desperately, but he stepped back again. "I don't want this to be a do-over from our past, Sal. Let's... Let's start from the beginning, shall we? Y – You can be with Flo for as long as you want. Isn't that what you've always wanted? If you're with me, then – "

Saliou glowered at him with pure hatred in his expression. "Don't you dare get Flo involved in this!" He gnashed his teeth and gave a sullen growl. "Please don't make me lose my respect for you completely. Stop this!"

Saliou started to walk away when Wren came running up to him. "Saliou, wait!" he shouted, chest heaving.

Saliou didn't turn back and remained silent.

"Your scent," Wren said in a broken voice. "W-Why... Why can't I sense your scent anymore, Sal?"

At this, Saliou turned around slowly, feigning surprise. "How could you not notice? Wasn't it your father who made this?"

Wren looked confused for a moment, then realization dawned on his face. "... You're on scent blockers."

"Naturally," answered Saliou.

These days, majority of unbonded Omegas are wearing scent-masking perfumes. With it, they'd be able to live a safer and more independent life.

For Saliou, if he hadn't been blocking his scent all these years, an Alpha would have claimed him before he even consented to it.

Standing before Wren now, that thought was suddenly a little intimidating.

Meanwhile, Wren lowered his head in careful rumination. "So, that explains it... But - " His eyes darted back to Saliou's. " - if you're on scent blockers, then your pheromones..." His voice trailed off for a second before continuing, "I see. I understand now. You don't want to be marked by that man you're currently seeing." It wasn't a question, but a proclamation.

Isn't that a good thing? Wren thought to himself, quite satisfyingly. It gave him a sliver of hope. A chance.

But Saliou was quick to crush it with his words.

"Of course not, silly." Saliou had a little grin on his face that meant to mock the other. "Rhys is Beta. And unlike Omegas and Alphas, he's not shackled to troublesome things like pheromones, estrus, and ruts."

Wren clenched his fists. "So then... why are you wearing scent blockers? It's... pointless."

"Pointless, you say..." Saliou chuckled. "Not when I'm around an Alpha, it isn't." He shook his head sadly as he ran his hand through his hair, then looked at Wren squarely. "Let me make myself perfectly clear. This is something I'm actively hiding from you. Because I knew that sooner or later, this will happen after Milou's death. But, Wren..." He looked at the other with an almost piteous look. "... I don't want to have anything to do with you anymore. And... I'm sorry. I just can't anymore."

He turned to go, and Wren silently watched him walk away.

Wren couldn't shake his mind off it. The way Saliou pushed him away. The shame of his rejection.

He'd been a bit forward. Forceful even. He said exactly what was on his mind, but it came back to bite him in the ass.

But this. This was a whole other kind of fiasco.

For Wren, the truth was far more painful than pretending to be oblivious about it for so long. But it was pretty obvious now. Saliou Matisse doesn't want to talk to him. He barely even looks at him. And now, he went as far as wearing a scent blocker to ward him off.

Yet he couldn't blame Saliou one bit. The years that passed treated him so horribly, and the pain he had caused him played a big part in the other's life.

It broke Wren's heart to think how much that destroyed Saliou over the years. And just how much he's lost his grip on him.

Is this a path of no return? Is there no other way to change the past? These questions plagued Wren's mind.

He let out a frustrated growl as he leaned against the wall and covered his face.

Ever since Milou passed away, he just didn't know how to treat Saliou. He felt so many things about him - guilt, fear, attraction... love. He didn't know how to behave around him. Didn't know what to think.

All he knew was that he's not the Wren Dumont that, seven years ago, was married briefly to a person he promised to try and love. But then he was deprived of the chance. And while he certainly mourned Milou's loss, he just couldn't reconcile some things, some feelings, when it comes to Saliou - his one true love.

His body remembers things he wanted to forget. But he's confused and afraid. He needed help to figure out how to live from here, and he knew perfectly well that sitting around and not doing anything about it won't resolve anything.

Yet despite the circumstance, despite the renewed pain, he promised to keep his word.

Wren Dumont never backs away from a challenge. Even more so when it's worth fighting for.

And so, he will do everything in his power to make Saliou his again - or for the first time, whichever way one looks at it. He will work day and night to win him. He will never give up on the other, on what they had or what they will have.

He won't let his Omega go without a fight.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It seemed ages ago that Saliou Matisse met Rhys Porter, on his first-ever art show in Glapshire.

At first, Saliou couldn't slap a pretty label on it – like fate or serendipity. There was nothing of the sort. In fact, it was just like one of those random ways life had unfolded before him.

He was on his lunch break when Rhys came up to him, dressed in a stylish crisp white chef's coat with checkered pants. His smile was a little coy, too coy for someone whose face exuded a strong personality.

"Uhm, hey," said Rhys timidly, as he stepped forward and reached out to shake Saliou's hand.

"Hey to you, too." Saliou set his lunch down and reached out to shake the other's hand.

The man's hand shook. They were cold, yet sweaty. Saliou quickly scanned him head to toe. "'You look kinda' lost. The food exhibit's in the next hall, to the right. I can show you the way. I'm on my break, anyway."

"Uhm, no." Rhys replied, shaking his head. "I – I came here to see you. I mean, to see your art." He began to stammer. "I – I mean, I came here to see you and your art."

A chuckle slipped from Saliou's lips. The guy was obviously nervous. How cute.

"Thanks for coming all this way to see me, uh..." Saliou's eyes darted toward the brass name tag pin attached to the other's coat. "... Mr. R. Porter?"

"Rhys. My name's Rhys. P-Porter. Rhys Porter. Ugh..." He slapped his forehead in exasperation. "I'm sorry. I'm feeling ridiculous and completely idiotic right now."

Saliou let out another soft laugh. "Hi, Rhys. My name's Saliou Matisse. What can I do for you today?"

Rhy crossed his arms, absently rubbing his elbows. "I'm... actually a huge fan of yours. I've been following you on Instagram since... since before you started gouache." His eyes sparkled with excitement from behind his dark-rimmed glasses; his voice filled with boyish enthusiasm. "I really like your lithographs the most. They... have this sort of melancholy to them. I – I mean they're beautiful. But at the same time, they evoke this kind of... sadness and grief."

Saliou stared at him without replying, looking amused and a little bewildered.

"I'm – I'm sorry," Rhys said ruefully, scratching the back of his neck. "I'm coming off a little creepy, aren't I?"

Saliou blinked and shook his head. "No! Not at all." He looked at Rhys and smiled. "It's just that... I rarely get to meet someone who appreciates my pencil works." He lowered his head slightly, as though to hide the expression on his face. "I wasn't in the best place when I got into lithography. But... it's my first love, after all."

"Uhm, but I also love your gouache paintings," Rhys said cheerily as he sat down in a chair next to Saliou. "I – I love the soft colors, especially when you paint the sky and water. The little details you add, like the reflection and the ripples and the silhouettes... I love them the most."

Saliou looked at him with more interest now.

"So, anyway..." Rhys swallowed hard, and Saliou watched his Adam's apple bob up and down. "I'm here because I've been wanting to buy your pieces for a while now. Imagine how thrilled I was when I found out your solo exhibit fell on the same date as the food fair."

"Thank you, Rhys," Saliou said, beaming at the other. "It's always an honor to meet someone who truly appreciates my work. It means a lot to me, really."

Rhys smiled back with enthusiasm. "T-Then... Would you care to join me for a cup of coffee?"

Saliou's face flushed pink.

"I – I mean not right away!" Rhys stuttered, waving his hands in an indeterminate gesture. "I - I own a small patisserie just a few blocks from here. I – I just started a couple months ago. And... I wanted to put some of your pieces on display there."

"Oh... Wow... Uhm..." Saliou muttered shyly, tucking his hair behind his ear.

"B-But if you don't want to go, it's totally fine," Rhys said, half smiling. "I would still like to buy some of your paintings today, though. I can't wait to put them on display."

"Yes, sure. But, uh..." Saliou scratched the side of his cheek. "... would you rather I deliver them to your shop? How about this weekend? Would that be fine with you?"

"N-No. I mean, yes! Sure but, uh, I can carry them over to the shop myself. Like, today?"

Saliou pouted. "Then how can I join you for coffee?" His face and even the tips of his ears turned red. "Besides, I have a bit of a sweet tooth myself. I like chocolate cake paired with my coffee."

Rhys stared at Saliou and smiled again. This time, his freckled face tingled, a provocative dimple appeared in his left cheek as he regarded the other with cool amusement. "I'm happy to hear that." He rubbed his nose to hide the wide grin on his face. "Saturday. Anytime in the morning at The Pastry Emporium. I can give you directions if you want."

"Or your number?" Saliou suggested.

Rhys felt his face turn red. "O-Of course!" He said, a little too excitedly. He pulled out his phone from his coat pocket.

"Great! It's a date then," Saliou teased, winking at him before turning away to get his phone.

That day, Saliou Matisse took a huge gamble on someone other than Wren Dumont. But he had put up some very efficient defenses around his heart for far too long, that he couldn't tell whether it was simple amusement or pure attraction he felt towards Rhys Porter.

Yet he didn't feel like a stranger to Saliou at all. The day they met for the first time, there was already something then, though he didn't know what exactly it was.

But he was determined to know. To seek confirmation to these feelings.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It was 11:30 on a Saturday morning in May and Rhys was standing outside The Pastry Emporium, waiting for Saliou to arrive.

Chocolate torte, tiramisu, strawberry shortcake... He made a mental note of the day's menu, feigning interest in other concerns while all the time thinking, Wow, I got stood up.

He went back inside the patisserie to get his phone and give Saliou a call but was immediately directed to voice mail.

What the heck, I really got stood up.

He went back outside to make another call and there he was. Saliou looked breathless and a little sweaty. He apologized for being late. Emergency at work.

"It's alright. Better late than never, right?" Rhys assured him as he went to brew some coffee.

They sat outside, enjoying the bright sun and fresh air brought about by spring.

He's nice, Rhys thought. A little quiet and reserved, but funny. Smart, too. And yes, undeniably handsome.

He served Saliou a couple slices of chocolate torte and sponge cake, which he said he loved for not being too sweet. They had a nice and light conversation and Rhys decided to show Saliou around the patisserie after about an hour and a half.

The patisserie was popular with Glapshire's artist circle. Rhys had already displayed paintings by some of them on the café walls, including some still-life paintings. Three of Saliou's paintings were the latest addition to Rhys' personal collection.

It turned out to be an unexpectedly lovely weekend, and after half an hour, Rhys walked Saliou into his car. They exchanged a somewhat awkward hug.

At the back of Saliou's mind, he thought, I must've bored him out of his wits. He was clearly in a hurry to get rid of me.

When he got in the car, he tried not to sulk over it. The thought that Rhys Porter might not want to see him again made him feel a little disappointed. He was surely out of his league.

It was a lonely drive home, and he threw in his There Was Never An Us playlist on Spotify for good measure.

He drove mindlessly, his thoughts drifting on why he made such a crazy gamble on a total stranger. It wasn't a typical Saliou Matisse move at all. What had gotten into him, anyway?

The whole thing made him feel all hollow and weird inside. All he really wanted was someone he can be honest with, someone he can confide in, someone to laugh with, someone to stroke his cheek and caress his hair. A real, authentic person he can think of when he lays his head down on the pillow; a man who would make him smile and feel warm inside.

Someone other than Wren Dumont, that is.

His thoughts drifted as easily and airily as the fuzzy things he felt that morning. He shook his head, feeling drained and weary.

He pulled into the apartment studio he now called "home", and sighed deeply.

Everything will be okay, he told himself repeatedly.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Two days later, Saliou received a text from Rhys. He was surprised. And then really ecstatic. Rhys wanted to get together again.

Sure, he was on a slump the past 24 hours. It really felt like Rhys was a little out of his league. But the guy wanted to see him again. Doesn't that mean he's interested in him? Saliou kept his hopes up.

Three days later, they met for their second date. This time, at a Mediterranean restaurant Saliou had suggested himself. Rhys offered to pick him up and drive them down to the venue since they had planned on meeting up earlier, but he had to bail. Deliveries had to be made, he said.

They were supposed to get together for an early-morning walk, and then to pick up Rhys' cat from the vet clinic. In anticipation of meeting Rhys' cat, Saliou went ahead and bought cat kibble. He loved animals after all, especially cats.

The moment they met, Rhys apologized profusely and held Saliou's hand tightly. He liked that. The guy was neat and straightforward, after all. And he became more friendly over the course of the evening. It was lovely.

After dinner, Saliou gave Rhys the cat kibble. "I thought I was going to meet your little furry friend today, so I got her these."

To which Rhys replied, "Wow, that's really nice of you. Thanks," and he leaned over and planted a kiss on Saliou's cheek.

It was fleeting, soft and gentle, and Saliou felt warm and fuzzy inside. Oh god, he said to himself, feeling quite helpless and weak in the knees.

The third date was lunch – Korean. They met after Saliou's three-day, out-of-town exhibit. They walked around the park for a bit, deciding on Korean instead of Chinese.

Saliou's only problem with the setup was that he had to sit across Rhys. He wanted to be touching the other to some extent, and that's when he realized he was in trouble.

Once again, they had a delightful moment together. Saliou felt somewhat in a daze, a little frazzled yet elated for having spent his time with someone so funny, witty, and charming. But the warning bell in his head kept going off, telling him not to get too excited. It's too early in the game, for god's sake, though he wondered when he'd stop being super-cautious.

At this point, isn't it obvious that Rhys likes me? We're still just on our third date. Yet I feel so... inferior. I think I'm not good enough for this guy.

Fuck it.

Once again, they made plans for the following weekend. It's date four and they agreed to meet at Rhys' apartment to make dinner together. Saliou found that to be more intimate, surely a huge progress to their relationship.

They made chicken Alfredo pasta and salad, and Rhys prepared croissants on the side. Saliou finally met Rhys' cat, Bubblegum, a chubby British shorthair who immediately took a liking to him. Thank goodness, Saliou said to himself. Nothing like having the cat hate you.

With great, inconsequential conversation and a bit of snuggling on the couch, the two enjoyed another lovely night together.

Saliou didn't leave until a few minutes before midnight. Getting up early for another out-of-town trip made him feel miserable but the moment he woke up, memories from the night before made him smile from ear-to-ear.

Wow, he thought, I must really like this guy a lot.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Once he got on date five, Saliou finally decided to tell his mother about Rhys. She was pleased with this news. He told her all about Rhys, and his mother felt he must really like the guy to be spending so much time getting to know him.

However, Mrs. Matisse was a bit puzzled at their lack of physical interaction. Saliou felt a little embarrassed that someone had to figure that out for him. Apart from a couple of friendly smooches and hugs, Saliou and Rhys hadn't done much in the physical aspect of things.

"Maybe he's just like you, dear," Mrs. Matisse told him reassuringly. "He's taking things slowly and he can't get there physically, until he's there emotionally."

Saliou chuckled nervously. It wasn't really a joke, though.

The years post-Wren had been tough for him. He'd had a couple of flings and a one-night stand, but they only made him feel even more miserable and worthless inside. But as he slowly got himself out of that dark chapter in his life, he made one thing clear to himself: that he couldn't have an intimate relationship with a man until he had firmly and completely established a mental and emotional connection with them.

He was no longer the guy looking for a casual fuck friend to warm him up on dark and lonely nights. In fact, he was no longer the guy who'd be able to have sex with anyone just for the fun of it. For Saliou Matisse, physical intimacy meant that they have gone past small talks and the awkward hello's and good-bye's.

He knew just how unfulfilling and utterly lonely a pure physical connection can be. Even if it's a good fuck, sex is just sex, and it held no appeal to him.

He was eager to know more about Rhys Porter. He hungered for intense and more meaningful conversations with him. He wanted to talk to him about life. His past. He wanted to be honest with him.

At least it was good to know where he stood on the matter. It's fine for Rhys to take things slowly, albeit slower than Saliou had initially expected. So while he's waiting and he needed sexual gratification – human as he is – he had his hand and a vibrator to keep him company. Sure, he can take care of business by himself.

Still, he knew it was better with two.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It's been four months since Saliou and Rhys had met. Saliou valued time and he didn't want to waste any second of it. He surmised Rhys felt the same way, too.

For Saliou, there were many firsts on their eighth date. The first time Saliou had invited a guy over to his apartment. The first time they had sex. The first time he experienced something so utterly mind-blowing after months of being in a complete slump.

Rhys had been a considerate, caring, and indulgent lover, trying to learn about Saliou's body and his mind and his desires. It's precisely what made the sex so fantastic for Saliou. It was passionate, sensual, and unhurried.

It was past midnight when Rhys got up to leave, but Saliou told him he could stay for the night if he wanted. Rhys was glad because he hoped he'd say that. He needed to get up early the following day but was too tired to drive home. The sex didn't exhaust him; he was just too sleepy.

Rhys was getting ready to head to the showers when he noticed one of Saliou's paintings on the wall, facing the bed.

He turned to Saliou with a bewildered smile. "Did I miss this on your Instagram?" he asked, pointing to the painting with his thumb. "I haven't seen this piece before."

Saliou slowly sat up in bed, letting the sheet drop to his waist as he sat cross-legged, an elbow resting on his knee. "No, I didn't post that online. It's... for my eyes only."

His eyes reflected melancholy when he smiled.

Rhys rubbed his chin in careful thought. "I totally understand. If it were me, I'd keep this for myself, too." He tilted his head from side to side as he regarded the painting with genuine amusement. "Honestly. This, for me, is your most beautiful watercolor painting yet. It's so... full of meaning."

It was a canvas painting of a man staring at his reflection in a pond. It reminded Rhys of that famous painting of Narcissus, the boy who fell in love with his own reflection.

But the man in the painting looked a lot like Saliou. A single tear glistened on his cheek as he stared down at the pond, which reflected a face that also looked very much like Saliou – except that this reflection was smiling.

The water and the bed of pink lotus occupied nearly the entire painting; strong golden streaks across a vermillion surface, with reddish-blue tones to the bank of lights on the far end of the pond.

The reflection on the water looked more vivid and alive with its vibrant and pulsating hues. Meanwhile, 'reality', the far-left side of the painting where the man was, had more subdued and dull colors.

"You always use such bright and intense colors on your paintings. Colors that would usually evoke happiness and excitement." Rhys remarked in a sincere voice, never taking his eyes off the painting. "But... there's always something about your work that makes me feel sad. Why is that?"

Saliou let out an audible sigh as he got out of bed and walked over to Rhys. "You really have a keen eye for details. Don't you wanna' work part-time as a museum curator? You'll enjoy it." He slid his arms around Rhys' bare waist and came to rest his chin on his shoulder.

Saliou gazed long and fixedly at the painting. "This one's very special to me. The only people who's ever laid eyes on it were my parents, a couple of cousins and now, you. I painted it last year." He then pointed to the man on the painting. "This was supposed to be just a self-portrait. But the time I was painting this, I was just getting my feet out of severe depression."

Rhys felt like he'd touched on a very sensitive matter.

"Uhm... if it's something you don't want to talk about, it's completely okay with me. I understand." Rhys reached up to rub a hand over Saliou's face, swiping his cheeks as if to make sure they were dry.

Saliou rubbed his cheek against Rhys' hand then shook his head. "It's fine. I wanted to show it to you, anyway. Besides... I want you to know more about me." Once again, his eyes drifted back to the painting. "There's one thing I don't openly talk about to my friends and patrons. Honestly it's... really quite painful to talk about and explain to someone outside my family."

He pointed to the painting once more, this time on the man's reflection. "This one's Milou. He was my twin brother." He paused, exhaled a deep breath, then continued. "Few years ago, he died during childbirth."

Rhys felt his heart plummet at this unexpected revelation. "Oh, Sal... I'm very sorry to hear that," he lamented, pulling Saliou to him for a tight embrace. "I apologize for asking..."

"Don't be." Saliou chortled as he freed a hand to stroke the back of Rhys' head, to pat him on the back. "I loved my brother. Cared for him a lot. I miss him so much, it hurts. But I know... I know he's in a better place now. And that's exactly what I wanted to show everyone in this painting."

Rhys wiped a tear that threatened to escape from his eye. He looked at the painting in a new light, his lips curled up into a gentle smile. "It's really a piece of work. Truly beautiful. I feel so honored to have seen it. So... thank you, Sal." He took hold of Saliou's chin and brought his face around to kiss him.

It was a long and slow kiss, one that stole Rhys' breath. He sank into Saliou, giving him whatever he needed, trying to convey just how much he cared.

With a raspy breath, he broke off the kiss. "I'm so happy that you're able to talk to me about these things. And honestly, I'm eager to know more about you, Sal. But I know it should be a fair exchange. I want you to know more about me, too."

Saliou could feel his heart thumping against his chest. He swallowed hard, nodded. "Yes. Yes, I want to know more about you."

Rhys reached for Saliou's hands and pressed them tightly. "You probably know how it is with Betas like me. There's really nothing much to tell about my life so far. A Beta's life can, well... be pretty mundane. Boring and uneventful, if you must." He let out a nervous laugh before adding, "But I came to love the simplicity of it. And if there's one thing in the past that made my life a little turbulent, well..." He bit his bottom lip, feeling reluctant to say anything more.

Yet he knew it wouldn't be fair to Saliou, who already picked up on his deepest sorrow and bared his soul to him.

"It's not really a big secret," Rhys said, voice barely audible. "But it hasn't been that long since you've come into my life. Well, to be honest, I wasn't expecting I'd be telling you this sooner. It's not really a – "

Saliou cupped his cheek and gave him a serious look. "You're going around in circles, babe. As long as it's not some literal skeletons you've been hiding in your closet, then go ahead and tell me. I won't bite."

Rhys laughed as he buried his face in Saliou's shoulder. "No, of course not. Jeez..." He sighed and looked up at the other. "I was married once," he confessed, which for a moment made the sparks in Saliou's eyes disappear. "I married at an early age. I was 21 and stupid. At one point, I really thought I had it all figured out. After all, I married the person I thought was my greatest love."

Saliou felt a sharp pang in his chest. Somehow, this felt a little too familiar.

"But heck, we barely even made it past the three-year, make-it-or-break-it itch. Before we could even decide whether the marriage was what we truly wanted, we broke it off. I broke it off. It just... didn't work out between us."

Saliou had a look about him that seemed to be telling Rhys to continue talking, but he wasn't keen on doing so at the moment.

"To be honest, I'm not comfortable talking about it right now," Rhys said as he brushed his fingers through Saliou's hair. "I don't want to bring the subject up any further and kill the mood."

"Y-Yes," Saliou replied as he wrapped his arms around Rhys' neck in a reassuring hug. "It's okay. You can tell me when you're ready. I'm always all ears."

Rhys returned the hug and thanked Saliou, then scooped him up off his feet.

"Rhys, put me down!" Saliou squealed, turning quite red in the face while getting carried princess-style. "Let me put on some underwear, at least!"

"Why?" Rhys teased. "I'm going to strip it off once we get to the showers, anyway." He carried him all the way to the bathroom, where they made love a second time.

What Saliou and Rhys learned that night, is that things are rarely as neat and tidy as a starry-eyed anecdote new lovers share on the couch.

Very early on in a relationship, both parties would try to polish their lives to a high shine, in order to make a strong impression towards their partner. Though usually, there would always be a not-so-glorious back story to everyone.

It doesn't necessarily have to be a secret, but it seems that every couple has two stories - the edited version shared over romantic candlelight dinners, and the unabridged one that's best left alone. Saliou and Rhys were no different at the time. They had both.

It's too early to tell. For now, they would just enjoy each other's company and not pressure each other into anything too serious. It was a mutual respect that allowed their relationship to grow over the years...

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It was past 11 in the evening when Saliou returned home from Flo's birthday party. He had a few too many glasses of wine earlier that day, and hadn't realized he was already feeling tipsy until he got behind the wheel of his car.

It was risky. He was lucky he didn't manage to come across highway patrol along the way. Otherwise he could have gone straight to the police station that night.

A red Subaru was parked out on the walk leading to the front porch of his apartment. Saliou looked over to find the lights lit in the windows, indicating Rhys was home.

They've been together for almost four years now and for Saliou, that was worth a mental pat on the back. The moment he  started going out with Rhys, he expected something deep and serious to come out of the relationship. He was far too old to be playing around and naturally, he expected the same sentiments from his partner.

On the one hand, they figured it's still early to decide to live together, although they would sometimes stay over at each other's apartment. This time, it was Rhys' turn to stay the night at Saliou's.

Saliou parked his car right behind Rhys'. The red Subaru was filthy, streaked with slush and caked road dust. On the back window, someone had written "Wash me please!" and drew a face that was somewhere between smiling and frowning. Kids probably.

Saliou chuckled as he shut off the engine, picked up his rucksack and a brown paper bag, then picked his way across the front yard, onto the porch.

Earlier he thought about calling Rhys to let him know he was on his way, but it was now almost midnight. The last thing he wanted to do was to wake him up. If Rhys were still awake, Saliou knew he'd have called or sent him a text to check on him.

A single light was still on in the living room. Slowly he opened the front door, trying not to make a sound. As soon as he stepped in and closed the door behind him, he saw that Rhys was lying on the living room couch, asleep with the TV on the Lifestyle channel. His cat, Bubblegum, was lying on his chest, also sound asleep.

Saliou turned off the TV, tiptoed his way toward the couch, and knelt in front of Rhys, watching him in his sleep. He was only wearing a pair of boxer briefs; a towelette draped across his shoulders. His head was still wet from the shower; droplets of water still seeping through the ends of his hair and down his neck. Saliou wondered if he had fallen asleep waiting for him.

He thought about covering Rhys with a blanket and letting him sleep. Then again, he knew that if he did that, Rhys would be sore the following day especially with Bubblegum laying on him all night. He reached over and gently tapped Rhys on the shoulder.

Rhys opened his eyes groggily and lifted his head wearily. "Sal?" he groaned as he slowly sat upright. When he did, Bubblegum jumped off and curled into a ball, now lying on her belly on the rug beside the couch.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Saliou said apologetically. "You can't sleep here. Your body's gonna' hurt in the morning if you do. Let's go to bed."

Rhys looked at him and said, "I'm fine, it's not like I'm not used to sleeping in cramped spaces." He took Saliou's hand and held it. "How was the party? Everything okay?" And then, he noticed the red flush creeping up Saliou's face. "Were you drinking?"

Saliou lightly slapped his cheeks to sober up. "Just a couple of glasses, that's all." That was a lie. He had five.

Rhys leaned close to Saliou's face and wiggled his nose. This time, he wasn't smiling. "You drove back here knowing you're intoxicated? Sal...! You could've just called and asked me to pick you up."

Saliou groaned as he buried his face against Rhys' knees. "Let's save the nagging for tomorrow, babe..."

Rhys lifted Saliou's chin so he could look him in the face. He could tell something was troubling the other.

"Something's happened at the party, hasn't it?"

Saliou deliberately averted his eyes from his. All he said was, "It's nothing serious."

Rhys eased him to the couch and made him sit down. The way Saliou was avoiding eye contact, he knew he was hiding something.

"Is it something you can't talk to me about?" he prodded.

"Hmm... It's not that I want to keep it from you, but..." Saliou's voice trailed off for a moment. "I could've told you about it sooner, but now I'm worried it might trouble you."

Rhys smirked. "Well, if you don't tell me now, then it'll definitely trouble me."

This time, Saliou shifted his eyes to Rhys'. "Remember when I told you I used to be in a committed, long-term relationship with a childhood friend?"

Rhys pursed his lips and nodded. "Uh-huh."

"That childhood friend... The only other person I had a serious relationship with..." He bit his bottom lip. "... It was Flo's dad... It's Wren Dumont."

Rhys gave the other a blank stare, shrugged his shoulders. He didn't know how to respond.

"D-Don't get me wrong. It's completely over between us." Saliou leaned forward to give Rhys a hug. "I... I just want to lay this all out to you now, before you hear it from someone else."

Rhys sighed as he hugged him back. "Then that means he's the same guy who believes you're Fated Pairs." His heart constricted, but he held Saliou even more tightly. "Was he the guy I saw earlier?"

Saliou buried his face in the other's chest and nodded.

"Figures," Rhys said with a chuckle. "Now I understand why he gave off such a thick and hostile scent. His pheromones just came on too strong, even for a Beta like me."

Typical dominant Alpha with their typical territorial tendencies, he said to himself.

"I swear, whatever we had before, it's long gone," Saliou said, as if trying to reassure the other.

"Okay. I understand. But... what's really troubling you, Sal?"

Saliou's eyebrows knitted as he sighed deeply. "He's confused my tolerance with something else," he explained. "If not for Flo, I wouldn't want us to cross paths again. You know I only ever show up at his place just to see my niece and nothing else. I only ever wanted a peaceful coexistence. But... Wren took it differently. He told me he still has feelings for me and wants to get back together with me..."

Rhys let out a deep sigh. "Obviously, it wasn't a clean break for him."

Saliou broke the embrace and rubbed his hands over his face. "I was already honest and explained why, but he refused to listen to me. Which is why I had to make a huge lie."

"A lie?"

"I... I told him we're engaged and about to get married."

Rhys blinked. "And did it work?"

Saliou shrugged. "Well, it shut him up for good."

"Sal..." Rhys let out a sigh of relief as he gathered Saliou up against his chest.

"I'm sorry. I hate keeping secrets from you."

"Would you have told me if I asked you?"

Saliou nodded earnestly. "Of course, definitely." He looked up at Rhys, gave him a searching look. "You're not mad at me, are you?"

Rhys shook his head no. "Anyone else would've kept it a secret. But you're different, Sal. You're different. Thank you for always being honest with me." He could feel Saliou's body relax against him as he rocked him from side to side.

"Hey, Sal?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't... Don't you want to marry me for real?"

Saliou was staggered at this question. Not that he didn't want to answer it, but because it was a subject that may be a little too touchy for his partner.

Even until now, Saliou was still too hesitant about bringing up Rhys' past. All he knew was that he was in a relationship as serious and deep as the one he had with Wren, and the divorce left him emotionally ravaged.

It was obvious how much Rhys wanted to forget about his previous relationship. He deleted all of the pictures that he posted of him and his ex-husband, on all his social media accounts. He even went as far as blocking the person. It's as if the relationship never existed at all.

The only thing Saliou got out of Rhys was his ex-husband's name: Matthew. And a couple of years ago, he got remarried to some man in a foreign country.

Saliou never dared ask, because he's afraid he'd open up old wounds. Ultimately, he decided to just wait for that moment when Rhys would raise the subject himself and tell him the rest of the story. No pressure at all. Past will be past, as long as it doesn't come back to haunt you.

Once again, Saliou held Rhys closer. It was an embrace that committed himself to the other. One he hoped Rhys would feel and understand.

"Of course I want to marry you," he replied after a while. "All in good time, babe."

Which, for Rhys, meant, Yes, but not now. And he was perfectly fine with that.

Sure, the prospect of a married life with Saliou was there. In fact, they were pretty much already behaving like a married couple.

But despite being together for nearly four years, both were still figuring out the whole 'serious relationship' thing. After all, he and Saliou both have a history of being in such deeply entrenched relationships that, in the end, left them scarred for life. Marriage wasn't exactly their top priority.

Meanwhile, Saliou felt so much better now that he was able to tell Rhys everything he needed to know about his old flame. It's like a load has been lifted off his shoulders. It was as if he had been freed from something that had prevented him from feeling for so long.

The feeling of loving someone.

But even after all these years, Saliou couldn't deny that in his heart, there was still a lingering feeling of affection towards Wren. He just wasn't sure where to direct that affection to. Certainly, it wasn't like before. It's far from what he felt back when he and Wren were still together. Now, that affection was more familial than romantic.

But Rhys. This man in front of him right now. This was the kind of affection he yearned to feel again. He just couldn't refuse him when he looked down at him with those honest, beautiful blue eyes of his.

Surely, self-control was going to be hard-won tonight.

Saliou leaned closer to Rhys, their faces now just inches apart.

"Kiss me," he muttered, giving the other a heated look, filled with need and anticipation.

Rhys grinned as he cinched his arms around Saliou's waist, pulling on him until their lips met.

Saliou gave him a wet, open-mouth kiss, involving teeth and tongue. His lips demanded Rhys' attention, his dedication. He kept kissing the other, pushing closer and closer.

This took Rhys by surprise. He would almost always be the one to take the initiative when it comes to these things but right now, Saliou was being surprisingly aggressive. It was refreshing. Exciting.

The taste of him, the alcohol mixed with a sweet yet manly scent, was intoxicating. Rhys' body shot in an instant overdrive. He tilted his head back and let out a low growl as Saliou nipped at his lower lip and broke the kiss. His mouth trailed across Rhys' chin and over his throat.

"Sal... what are you doing?" He closed his eyes; every nerve in his body focused on what the other was doing to him.

"I want you." Saliou broke away as he gazed up at Rhys languorously. "I want you so badly."

"Wow," Rhys whispered, quirking his lips as he looked down at the front of Saliou's pants. He could see the outline of his erection pressing against it. "Alcohol sure has an interesting effect on you." He moved his hand around to cup his hard-on.

Saliou panted and sighed. "Touch me."

"I am."

"Harder."

A bright look came into Rhys' eyes as he licked his lips. Saliou was hard as a rock. He could feel it pulsating beneath his palm, still growing as he squeezed it more firmly.

"I know we're both tired, but this... this makes me want you, too." Rhys pushed closer as he slid his free hand upward, gliding under Saliou's shirt.

Saliou let out a low gasp, feeling the other's cool fingers on his skin.

There was only one way to end this night. One way that would make things even better. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Rhys let the both of them fall on the couch. He pushed Saliou onto his back, holding him down as he gave him fervent kisses. He gingerly eased Saliou's shirt over his head and tossed it off to the floor. He then ran his fingers on his tight belly, his smooth and gentle touch leaving an electrifying trail all the way up Saliou's chest.

Saliou cursed as Rhys placed his tongue over one of his nipples, gently sucked it down, pulling the bud taut between his teeth. He drew in quick gasps of breath. You always know what I need. You must be a mind-reader, he said to himself.

Rhys, on the other hand, busied his hands as he fumbled at Saliou's button, unzipped his pants, and pulled them down a little. Saliou helped him out as he lifted his hips up, staring fixedly at Rhys as he slid his pants all the way down to his ankles.

Saliou smiled. Those eyes are so beautiful. That focus, that burning passion. So sexy.

Rhys only had underwear on, making things a whole lot easier for Saliou. With his index finger, he hooked on the waistband and jerked it down until the boxers rode low on Rhys' hips. His whole body flushed a beautiful shade of red.

"W-What?" Rhys lifted his head to look at the other.

"Nothing." Saliou reached inside Rhys' boxers and started stroking him.

Rhys jerked back and gasped, then shook his head. He cornered Saliou against the edge of the couch. This time, his eyes were focused on his next goal: Saliou's boxers. The boxers that were much too constricting for the state he's currently in.

"Just lie down," Rhys instructed. "I want to suck you off." Slowly, he ran his hand over Saliou's boxers, running it over the top before sliding it over his throbbing erection. His slender fingers, the gentle pressure – Rhys drove Saliou mad with anticipation.

Saliou flashed a wicked grin. "Well, if you put it that way, then..." He lay back as he spread out his legs, peering into Rhys' face. "Suck me off as much as you want, Mr. Porter."

Rhys chortled. "You're too much." He pulled at Saliou's boxers, finally freeing his cock, finally letting him out of his restraints.

Saliou let out a gasp as the cool night air hit him, his entire body exposed to the chill.

Rhys knelt in between Saliou's legs and rested his hands on Saliou's knees. And then, he leaned over Saliou again, kissed his inner thigh, and slowly wrapped his fingers around his hard member.

Feeling Rhys' hand wrapped around him made Saliou even harder than he already was.

"I haven't done this for you for a long time." Rhys ghosts his mouth over Saliou's length, gently blowing it with his hot breath.

Rhys' lips barely even touched him, but Saliou could already feel it all the way to his balls. Just having Rhys do this to him, set everything aflame inside him.

Saliou gasped as Rhys flicked out his tongue to lap over the head of his cock, circling it playfully before taking it into his mouth.

"Rhys..." Saliou reached for him, held him tightly so he couldn't move. He was afraid that if he started moving now, he wouldn't know what to do.

Rhys looked up at him, lips still around his head. The view was so obscene, making him want to just flip him over and fuck him. Fuck him hard.

Rhys licked him eagerly, all while caressing his balls.

"Don't do that... I'll come way too soon," Saliou whimpered.

Instead of slowing down, Rhys sucked him even harder. He moved at a much faster pace as he swallowed Saliou's length while he alternately sucked on his balls. "Come for me now." But before he could get one last suck, Saliou came hard.

"Fuck...!" Saliou shuddered as he came apart.

Rhys kept his mouth still around Saliou's member and swallowed down his essence. When Saliou went still, Rhys pulled him out of his mouth.

"Please..." Saliou said after a while, his voice raspy, still having a hard time catching his breath. "Please don't tell me we're done."

"There's more to come."

Saliou watched as Rhys sat up, slid himself on the opposite end of the couch, and lay on his back. Gazing straight at Saliou, he licked his palm and fingers, savoring the other's essence.

What he did next made the heat rush back to Saliou's groin. Rhys spread his legs, dragged one hand down over his back entrance, curled two fingers, and slowly plunged them inside him.

"Take me," Rhys said in a broken voice, his fingers still invading his entrance. His cock was hard, jutting upwards strongly. He wrapped his other hand around himself; eyes never leaving Saliou's.

Saliou knelt between his legs and reached out; wrapped his hand around the hand Rhys was using to jack himself off. Rhys' mouth opened on a gasp. His whole skin was flushed now, and Saliou could feel him shuddering. He was so aroused, he's surprised he hasn't come yet.

Saliou slid his hand lower, over the inside of Rhys' thighs, over his balls, caressing them, pulling moans from the other. His eyes were dark with lust.

"Rhys... will you let me?" His voice was low, hoarse, utterly sexy. "It's been a while since I've held you... It might hurt."

"Just take me," Rhys replied candidly.

"I have some lube in the drawer. Do you need some?" He reached in between Rhys' legs and stroked his hard member. And then, he slid further down, right where he knew Rhys wanted him.

"There's no time. Use your spit... God, Sal, just take me." Rhys lifted his rear higher.

"So impatient." Saliou wet two of his fingers and gently pressed them into the rim of Rhys' entrance. He was already slippery and wet, quite full now that there were four fingers inside him. He was ready to be taken by Saliou.

He teased Rhys, put a little pressure on him, just enough to make his entire body quiver and tense up. Saliou manipulated him, massaged him gently, slid his fingers further and back. Rhys let out a low moan.

Saliou put his hand over the other's hip. "How long has it been?" He lowered himself over Rhys as he slipped out his fingers and positioned his cock to his opening.

"Months... but I can handle it." Rhys' eyes were on Saliou's – big, needy, filled with lust. He wanted him, but he's no longer sure what he was doing.

Saliou leaned forward and kissed Rhys on the lips. "Tell me if it hurts."

Rhys pulled out his fingers as Saliou lifted his legs over his arms, giving him better access. He slowly eased back until his hips were over Rhys', until his cock lined up with his entrance.

Rhys kept one hand on Saliou's hip, guiding him. He wasn't forceful; he needed Saliou to do this himself.

After what seemed like eternity, Saliou started to move, shallow little thrusts at first, as though he's waiting to make sure Rhys can handle it.

"It burns too much... But it's... so good..." Rhys panted as he closed his eyes and dug his fingers into the couch.

Saliou didn't think he'd last long, but he must try. Once Rhys was doing nothing but moaning, he stayed still for a moment then began to thrust harder, more deeply.

"Tight... You feel so tight." He pressed down further as he moved back and forth in a steady motion.

"Fuck harder," Rhys demanded.

"So bossy," said Saliou, but did as he was told.

Rhys grinned. "You like me bossy." He found Saliou's hand, linked their fingers together, then leaned forward to claim a kiss.

They kissed hungrily as Rhys took in more of Saliou, as he filled himself with the other.

The sound of slapping flesh nearly brought Saliou over the edge, but he needed to fight himself the whole way. He held back for as long as he could, raining kisses across Rhys' neck, his broad shoulders, his nipples.

Rhys started rocking himself into Saliou, kept taking him in, kept engulfing his length in his own amazing heat. Saliou grabbed his hip and held him still, trying to stop himself from coming too soon. It was so intense, so mind-numbing, he was getting closer and closer to the edge.

"Harder...!" Rhys grunted.

"Any more than this and I'll – "

Rhys found his mouth once again and sucked down. They played with their tongues; Rhys biting down and licking the inside of Saliou's mouth. He then moved his face on Saliou's wet shoulder and took in his scent, beads of sweat dripping down his face.

Rhys sighed in pleasure. "Incredible. You're so incredible."

"Look at me," Saliou demanded.

Rhys glanced up.  He whimpered and rocked, his body shaking as Saliou seized and flexed his ass cheeks, grabbing his cock in a tight grip.

"You're so hot." Saliou shoved two fingers over Rhys' mouth and bit his lower lip as Rhys' tongue came out and sucked them playfully.

Rhys pressed his hips up as Saliou moved down. They both rocked together, their whimpers and moans filling the air.

"I'm – I'm almost there..." Saliou leaned his head on top of the couch as he huffed. "Rhys...!"

Rhys' muscles squeezed around him tightly down there. He let go of the other's hand and started stroking Rhys' erection with his fingers.

Saliou's thrusts started to lose their rhythm, his hand still wrapped around Rhys, stroking him fast.

Rhys went still, moaning loudly as his orgasm hit him. He buried his moans in Saliou's neck. Several seconds later, without pulling out, Saliou started stroking him again, gently and playfully at the same time, until he too, fell over the edge and came.

"Beautiful... just beautiful..." Saliou voice was raspy as he rolled away and lay on his side so he and Rhys faced each other. He savored his own release spreading throughout the rest of his body.

A minute or so had passed. Time and exhaustion didn't seem to matter. He lifted his hip up slightly and, still holding Rhys' now-limp cock, pulled himself out as gently as he could.

Saliou grinned mischievously. "We're quite the pair, aren't we?"

Rhys looked at Saliou and laughed. He kissed Saliou's forehead and rubbed his nose against the other's.

Once they've both stopped panting and gasping for air, Saliou loosened his grip on Rhys' other hand. His hands came up to massage Rhys' shoulders, his back, his hands and wrists, cautiously checking for any after-damage.

"I'm fine," Rhys promised.

Saliou smiled weakly. "Just making sure."

Rhys closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Saliou's. "Do we still have time to shower? Or would you prefer a bath? I can prepare warm water in the tub."

"Mmm... I kind of like to cuddle," Saliou admitted. "I want to stay with you like this for a while."

"Me too," Rhys replied happily, rubbing his slightly stubbled jaw on Saliou's cheek. "But you stink like ten glasses of wine, a vodka, and a whole lot of spunk."

Saliou chortled. "That bad?" He put his arm around Rhys' waist and snuggled close, nuzzling his nose against the other's neck. "Speak for yourself. Now you smell like me, too."

Rhys propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at Saliou in the dim light. "Which is why we need to get cleaned up. Come on, get up, you sleepyhead."

Saliou let out a jaw-cracking yawn as his eyelids drooped. "Just give me a couple of minutes, and then..." After a few seconds of silence, he closed his eyes and his hand dropped to his side.

Rhys took a deep breath as he stared down at a snoring Saliou. He slipped back onto the cramped-up couch, inching closer to the other's sleeping form.

The sound of Saliou's slow, rhythmic breathing and the soothing tickle of his breath against his shoulder created that now-familiar warm and fuzzy feeling to spread throughout his body. Rhys pressed his lips against Saliou's neck; inhaled his scent deeply.

Being this close to his lover filled him with an overwhelming sense of peace and contentment. A feeling of completeness. For how long he didn't know, yet he hoped it would be for the rest of their lives.

Saliou may not be aware of this but Rhys was waiting patiently for him to completely move on from whatever was shackling him to the past. It turned out to be Wren Dumont, and now the man returned to Saliou's life with the force of a hurricane.

Saliou definitely loved the man with an innocent yet irresistible awe. But the love he once held for his Alpha was now bittersweet, like a healed scar that would itch sometimes, sending sharp threads of pain below the surface of his skin.

Wren Dumont is Saliou's Fated Pair, after all. So where does Rhys' love stand against something more primal, something seemingly more powerful?

Surely the Alpha had had his eyes on Saliou for the last couple of years, but what does he think of Saliou now, really? Something special that needed to be cherished, or a prize that needed to be won?

Rhys didn't want to delve deeper into it. For now, he'd make amends, keep Saliou happy and satisfied, try and make him forget about anything else until he could get Wren Dumont out of his system. Completely and with finality.

Because at this point, Rhys could certainly see a better future with Saliou. He was more than willing to give a second chance at love, as long as it's with this man in his arms.

Although he was a little burned out and fatigued from the lack of sleep, Rhys watched over Saliou, stared down at him for another half an hour or so until finally, sleepiness hit him like a tidal wave.

He kissed Saliou on the cheek, tightened his arms around him and drifted off, hoping moments like this would lead to many more such nights in the future. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

 

Wren hadn't seen Saliou since his daughter's birthday party. That was almost a couple of weeks ago.

The days that passed gave him plenty of time to reflect on his words and actions. Now, more than ever, he hoped to continue his conversation with Saliou and pick up where they had left off. 

Wren called Saliou's phone several times and even left a couple of voice mails, but he never called him back. He felt he'd lost a lot of valuable time. He wanted to talk to Saliou personally, to make some sort of sign that he'd like to meet him, but without success.

On a Wednesday morning, Wren drove Florence to school on his way to work.

When the little girl got into the car, she gave her Daddy a puzzled look. He had been chaperoning her for the fifth straight day in a row.

"Dad, I miss Uncle Sal," Florence confessed, lips pouting. "Why hasn't he come to pick me up?"

Wren glanced at her briefly and gave her a regretful smile. "Uncle Saliou's still very busy at work, Flo. Why, don't you want Daddy driving you to school?"

Florence sank against the passenger seat and looked out the window. "I love it when Dad comes to drop me off and pick me up at school," she said in a mellow voice. "But I haven't seen Uncle Sal for days. I miss him terribly." She paused a moment before adding, "And Uncle Rhys, too."

Wren winced at that, feeling mildly surprised. In the reflection, he could see his daughter's gloomy expression as she stared out the window absently. Wren set his eyes back to the road as he turned off the main highway and into a narrow lane.

A brief silence settled between them until Wren led the car to a bypass road and diverted traffic.

"So... you know your Uncle Saliou's boyfriend?" he spoke after a while.

"Uh-huh," replied Florence, nodding her head enthusiastically. "He's a baker, Dad. He made my birthday cake. He makes the best rainbow cupcakes and milkshakes."

Wren made a tight-lipped smile and nodded curtly. "How long has he been friends with your uncle?"

"Uhm..." Florence began in thought as she placed a finger beneath her chin. "... since forever? Uncle Sal and Uncle Rhys are always together, Dad. They're like Buzz and Woody but like, boyfriends."

Wren gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to keep his emotions in check.

Sometimes, he'd feel a sense of irrational resentment towards his loving yet sensitive seven-year-old, especially when she carelessly throws words she doesn't know would hurt the other. Wren very rarely yells at her but when he does, Flo gets a little frightened and still wouldn't understand. Whenever she does that, Wren would end up hating himself instead.

She's still just a child. What does she know about grown-up problems, anyway?

In the end, all Wren could say was, "I see he likes to feed you sweets. Eating too much sugar is bad for you. You won't want to ruin your teeth now, would you?"

After about a couple of minutes, he reached out and squeezed his daughter's hand lightly. "So... do you guys go out often? With your uncle's boyfriend, I mean."

Florence turned to look at her Dad, quirking her lips to the side. "Uhm... not really. Uncle Rhys is always busy baking cakes and bread." She paused for a moment, seemingly to capture a thought, then said, "Oh, but sometimes he'd pick me up from school."

Wren was a little taken aback by this. His eyebrows furrowed tightly in a worried expression. "Pick you up... with Sal?" he queried.

Florence looked at her father, realizing she might have said too much. "Uhm... Uncle Sal would sometimes be too busy at work and..." She shrugged her shoulders. "... Uncle Rhys would pick me up and then drive me straight to Uncle Sal's office. And... and then..." She trailed off as she saw Wren's lips tighten into a grimace.

"And your uncle knows about this?" Wren tried his best to contain his irritation. "How many times have I told you to never ever go anywhere with a stranger, Flo?"

"B-But Daddy, Uncle Rhys isn't a stranger..." the little girl explained, her voice shaking.

Wren let out an exasperated sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "Listen here, Florence. If Dad doesn't know them, then they are strangers."

Wren slowly pulled to the side as they reached the school driveway. He turned his face to Florence as he shut off the ignition, his expression stern with emotion. "Even if it's Uncle Sal's friend, you must not go with them alone. You hear me, Flo?"

Florence squirmed in her seat, searching for the seat belt button. "Yes, Daddy..." she said, voice barely audible.

"I can't hear you, Flo."

"Yes! I said yes!"

Wren's mouth hung open at his daughter's sudden outburst. But before he could say another word, Florence hurried to unstrap her seat belt, pushed the door open, and jumped out of the car.

"Florence Dahlia, come back here right this instant!" Wren yelled angrily at her, but Florence didn't turn back as she walked away into the school and out of sight.

Wren cursed to himself as he banged his fists into the steering wheel and reached out to slam the passenger-side door shut. And then, he dropped back into the driver's seat and covered his face with his hands.

Wren had suffered through so many disappointments and heartaches for many years. It seemed as though his whole life to this point has been one mess-up after another. He just couldn't afford to add more.

The sound of a school bell ringing in the distance tore at Wren's senses and brought him back from his drifting thoughts. He checked his watch then pulled out his smartphone to check for messages from Saliou.

It's been days since the man had stopped responding to any of Wren's calls and messages. He sighed heavily as he realized Saliou might have changed his number or worse, blocked him.

Wren figured it was way too early to lose hope. He already made up his mind weeks ago, after all. That he's never going to give up on Saliou. That he's going to pursue him no matter what.

Be that as it may, a more pressing matter had suddenly come up. He tried to justify himself; told himself he now has a good reason to confront Saliou.

He turned in the ignition, pulled the car back out onto the road, and started driving back toward the expressway heading to Glapshire.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Saliou's demanding work schedule meant he and Rhys hadn't seen much of each other for the past several days.

The Art Gallery of Glapshire consists of only four halls and a professional staff of five – Saliou included. But despite the limited budget, the museum mounts grand, ambitious exhibits intended to appeal to a diverse community of artists and students.

But because the museum is small, duties and responsibilities were not strictly departmentalized. Saliou was practically his own boss. That month alone, he was assigned to select paintings from local private and public collections, write a new catalog for them, and supervise a couple of new interns.

Indeed, museum work is busy work, and one would be deceived if they never saw that aspect of museum life coming.

It was an especially busy Wednesday for Saliou. Some paintings in Hall B had to be wrapped and crated to the basement, which in turn had to be professionally done and with dispatch. With a couple dozen art pieces that needed to be moved, Saliou had to remain at the museum until closing to make sure everything was proceeding as planned.

Saliou handed a list of paintings to be moved to one of the interns, then proceeded to the basement to observe the crating.

On his way downstairs, he heard his phone ping in the breast pocket of his jacket. He took it out. A chat message from Rhys.

Busy right now? I miss you so bad. ? 

Saliou smiled as he leaned against the railing and typed out a reply.

Last day today and it'll be business as usual. I miss you heaps too. What's up?

Saliou was talking to one of the crewmen when he received a reply from Rhys:

Yay! Anyways remember Nicola, my assistant baker? She's getting married next month and her friends are throwing her a bridal shower here @ the shop today. Check out her cake:

Saliou's phone pinged a second time, and he opened it to find a picture of a single-layered cake in pink butter frosting, decorated with a 3D fondant of a manicured hand holding an erect penis, complete with a white ribbon on its balls. Written in white icing were the words 'To Have and to Hold', just below the naughty-looking fondant decoration.

"Oh my god..." Saliou almost burst out laughing as he tightly covered his mouth and typed a quick reply:

??????

Few seconds later, he sent another message:

Send Nicola my best wishes.

Rhys' reply came swiftly.

She said thanks. How about I swing by and bring you lunch? Nicola brought over some enchiladas – your favorite! 

Saliou checked the time and heaved a deep sigh before responding to Rhys. 

YUM. Love to but I only have a 20-minute break. Could only afford a quick bite. Don't wanna feel all bloated for the remainder of my shift either. I could meet you for dinner later tho? Or you can stay over at my place tonight?

After a couple of minutes, his phone pinged again. But before he could check his chatbox, someone called out to him from upstairs. It was one of the interns.

"Mr. Matisse, someone's here to see you," announced the intern as she stood at the top of the stairs.

Saliou gave her a perplexed look as he placed his phone back in his pocket and slowly went back upstairs. He wasn't expecting anyone that day. Not even the supervisor. And it's definitely not Rhys.

"Who is it?"

"'Said he's a relative of yours," the intern replied as she stepped back to make way for Saliou.

When Saliou emerged from the basement, he was surprised to see Wren Dumont. He looked quite dapper in a dark business suit and his hair slicked back neatly. He was standing at the far end of Hall C, looking at one of the oil paintings hanging on the wall.

Saliou didn't move a muscle. From where he stood, he couldn't see Wren's face or what emotion might be in his eyes. Saliou stared blankly at him for a moment; thought about how to approach him.

Why in the world is Wren here? he wondered.

"Should I tell him you're busy?" the intern asked Saliou, leaning close to whisper in his ear.

"N-No. It's fine," Saliou responded, waving his hand to dismiss the other. "Thank you, Kate. Please supervise the crew downstairs. I'll be there in ten."

Once the intern had gone, Saliou fixed his hair, straightened his suit coat and shirt, and walked briskly toward Wren who still hadn't noticed his presence. He raised a hand to his mouth as he feigned a sudden cough to get Wren's attention.

"Wren, I wasn't expecting you."

Wren turned swiftly to look at Saliou. His eyes narrowed as he regarded the other with a stormy expression on his usually calm face.

This took Saliou by surprise. Why would he be upset with him? He quickly racked his brain for a possible explanation.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he looked at Wren with concern.

Wren stuffed his hands in his pants pocket as he walked over to Saliou and stood right in front of him. "I didn't expect you'd risk my daughter's welfare by letting her hang around with some – some stranger."

Saliou stared blankly at Wren for a moment, taken aback by his sudden outburst. He tried to process the other's words as he waited for what he was going to say next.

"Seriously, Sal? I entrusted Flo to you. Just you, and nobody else! I don't understand why you'd put her life at risk by letting her ride in some stranger's car!"

Saliou's lips were a grim line; his own eyes narrowed at Wren's accusatory look. "By stranger, do you mean Rhys?" he shot back, working hard to keep his voice level.

"Yes, Sal, who else could it be?" snapped Wren.

"He's no stranger to Flo. They've known each other for –"

"That's not my point," Wren cut him off. "I don't know the guy, I don't know what he does or – or how he acts around my daughter. I don't know him! I – I don't want him around Flo, okay?"

Saliou's quiet calm was slowly melting away into barely concealed anger. "You make it sound like Rhys is some sort of predator." He was getting more and more infuriated by the second, but his anger was just a shadow in his eyes and a tension in his voice. "You know how much I care for my niece. I would never put her in any sort of danger."

Wren clenched his fists. "This is Flo's safety we're talking about. You can't expect me to take your word for it."

Saliou closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, frustration hammering his nerves. He opened his eyes again and cleared his throat before saying, "Listen, Wren. If you don't believe me, why not go and ask Flo herself? If you're still not convinced, then go ahead and check the fucking sex offender registry – see if Rhys' name comes up. You'll be sorely disappointed you ever wasted your time and energy on this."

Before Saliou could turn and walk away, Wren's hand snaked out to grab his wrist.

"Stop. I'm not done talking to you."

Saliou wrenched his hand away. "Well, I'm done with you."

"Stop walking away from me, Sal." Wren said in a softer, calmer tone. "We need to talk."

Saliou let out a short huff. "Can't you see I'm busy? Can't we just talk about this over the phone?"

"Do you think I'd come all the way here to see you if I have that option?" Wren retorted, laughing bitterly. "You don't exactly answer any of my calls and texts, do you?"

Saliou raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms over his chest. "What do you possibly want to talk about, Wren?"

Already, this wasn't going as Wren had initially hoped. He ran his hand through his hair in an effort to calm down. "Five minutes. Just five minutes of your time, Sal. Let's sit down and talk. Please."

They never sat down and talked about anything for many years, Saliou thought, as his frustration began to grow teeth. He hated to be hurting the other, of course. He'd never wanted to hurt Wren. But even as he pitied him, a cold wall of anger and disappointment had already risen and enveloped his heart.

"Please," Wren said once more, "let's talk."

Saliou drew out a breath as he shook his head frustratingly.

Fine, he said to himself, let's hear what you have to say.

"Let's go into my office," he said quietly as he stepped back to let Wren pass. "Let's make it quick. I've only got ten minutes left on my break."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Wren straightened. "I take it you're doing well?" His gaze roamed Saliou's face slowly.

Saliou closed the door behind him. "Never felt better," he said as he nodded to a chair facing his office desk. "Please sit down."

Wren nodded, watching the other closely, observing his every move. He sat down in the chair, fussing with his coat, his heart thumping far too loudly. He hadn't expected to be so anxious.

Saliou went straight to his desk and sat down. "Would you like some coffee? Tea?"

Wren crossed his legs and clasped his hands together over his knees, looking serious and very business-like. "I'd like an explanation, Sal."

Saliou heaved another frustrated sigh as he placed a hand over his forehead. "What do you want me to say, Wren?"

They looked at each other, mentally sizing each other up. In the end, Saliou was the first to relent.

"Okay fine, it may have been an oversight on my part," he said. "I'm sorry, I should've told you. But it only happened twice and on both occasions, I had a sudden emergency at work. You were out of town. Mom was just as busy. Someone had to pick up Flo and Rhys was the only one who's available at the time." He shrugged before he added, "I... I really have no other explanation. I apologize, okay? I'll make sure it won't happen again."

Wren leaned back in his seat, scratching his chin, examining Saliou. "I just don't want Flo getting used to strangers. That's all."

"Me either and again, Rhys is no stranger to Flo. They've known each other since she was five," explained Saliou. "You know how Flo is around strangers, Wren. She's quite aloof and guarded around them. But it's different with Rhys. She enjoys his company."

"So this has been going on behind my back for two years?" Wren sighed sharply. "What took you so long to tell me?"

Saliou's mouth hung open for a moment while he searched for a sound reply. "Because I didn't think it'd be a big deal?"

To which Wren blurted, "It is! It is a big deal! Because I never thought in a million years you'd start dating someone else!"

Saliou tilted his head back, glared up his nose at the other.

The ulterior motive has finally bared itself, he thought to himself.

"This... This isn't really about Flo now, is it?" He pressed both palms flat on his desk and drew in a deep breath. He clenched his teeth, striving for some measure of calm. "Forget it, Wren. You need to go. You need to leave right now. I'm done with you."

Wren stood from his chair and leaned on Saliou's desk, staring morosely at the other. "I still hoped that one day, we'd be back together, Sal. Back where we belong. I just – I just thought you'd wait for me. So when I found out you're going out with someone, I was... I was shocked. I was hurt. I refused to believe it."

Saliou wanted to scream. How can a person manage to be so persistent to the point it's driving him mad?

"Why is it so hard to believe?" Saliou looked at Wren sharply, barely able to hide his resentment now.

"Look," Wren continued, "I know I messed up big time. Okay? But I didn't see how much until you weren't there by my side anymore. I know I'd miss you, but I never expected I'd ache for you." This time, his face was filled with dense emotions. "I've been wanting to get back together for so long, Sal. But you kept blowing me off, so I figured I'd wait longer until you'd eventually come around."

Once again, Wren's timing was horrible.

"Wren, I'm... I'm sorry," Saliou said with an almost deadpan voice. "But I don't want this anymore. I don't want us to get back together. How much clearer do I have to make it?"

"Come on, Sal. That guy doesn't know you." Wren's hands moved up a little in an attempt to reach out to Saliou. "He won't fill up your life like I do. It's always been us. Does he know all your pet peeves? Does he know what makes you laugh? Does he know how many moles you have? We used to hide behind your Mom's azalea bushes and laugh at Mrs. Bryce every time she picks her nose while watering the plants. Do you remember that, Sal? Do you share such fond memories with your new guy?"

"No. But 'that guy' loves me for who I really am, Wren. Not because I'm an Omega, not because I'm someone's Fated Mate, but because I'm me." Wren leaned his head back to look at the ceiling in frustration, but Saliou kept going. "It seems to me that you want nothing more than a comfort-zone lover. You just want to keep living in the past and refuse to find a way out." And then, he let out a sharp breath. "Or god forbid, you just want a whiff of my pheromones. Isn't that what this is, Wren?"

"That's not it!" Wren shot back indignantly. "That's not what I'm here for! Can't you see? All I want is a second chance!" He reached for Saliou's face but he backed away.

"You can't, Wren, not now. Not ever. I'm sorry that things ended up like this for you, but I'm happy now. Don't you want that for me?"'

For Saliou, there's a stark difference between listening and hearing. And right now, Wren was doing the latter. He was so wrapped up with his own pursuits that he refused to listen to reason.

"I... I think you're just angry at me. You're just letting this guy come in and tell you everything you've been wanting to hear."

Saliou wished he could tell Wren how terribly wrong he was. But right now, he was looking like the sulky, irrational ex-boyfriend hell-bent on a rebound relationship. And he was having none of it.

"I'm sorry, Wren, but you need to go. This is a bad time. It's always a bad time. You know what I mean, don't you?" He heaved a long and deep sigh before continuing, "You need to cool down. The way I see it, you refuse to listen to anything I say –"

"Do you seriously think a Beta can handle your heat?" Wren cut him off as he grabbed Saliou's hand. "How long do you think you're going to suffer for? Can you imagine living the rest of your life dealing with it? Heat suppressants can only do so much. You know you need me, Sal. I'm your Alpha."

That was Saliou's breaking point. His knuckles started heating up when Wren got in his face. Deep down inside, he wanted to throw a punch and beat that pretty face of his. But he knew he couldn't do that while at work. Instead, he looked at Wren squarely and sneered.

"Seriously? You, of all people, are lecturing me about controlling my heat?" He laughed mockingly as he slid his hand from Wren's grip. "I'll shoot that back at you!" His eyes were wide with hurt and anger. "Were you able to control yourself seven years ago? Were you able to keep your hands off my brother? Have I gone batshit-crazy when I was abandoned by the person I almost believed was my Fated Pair?"

Wren stood speechless as he lowered his face and gritted his teeth.

Saliou grunted at the other's silence. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue? Oh, now you want to get quiet on me. Speak up, Wren!"

After more than five seconds of intense silence, Saliou bolted from his seat, walked around Wren, then went for the door. "Get out."

Saliou should have seen it coming but he didn't. Wren grabbed him by the arm to stop him and swung him around.

"I never wanted to marry Milou," Wren hissed as he looked up at Saliou, eyes filled with despair. "You know that very well! If I could turn back time and change things, you know I would! And I'll make sure to change what happened that day! I wish Milou never existed! Then – then all of this fucked-up shit wouldn't have happened in the first place!"

The moment he said those words, he immediately regretted it. That was when he saw Saliou's expression darken; the corner of his mouth slanted.

But it was too late. The damage had been done.

Saliou felt a sharp pain in his chest. He could hide the tears, but he was crying inside his heart – and it was there that the pain was greatest.

But it's not so much for himself, but for his brother. He was hurting for Milou.

"I know you only decided to marry my brother out of your strong sense of responsibility," Saliou said, his voice devoid of emotions. "I hated that about you, but now..." He placed a hand to his face and shook his head dejectedly. ".... now I'm just filled with so many regrets. How could I have allowed someone so selfish to come between me and my brother?" His eyes were wet and glossy from fighting back tears that were determined to stream down his face. "How could you say that about Milou? He loved you so much... The least you could do is to respect his memory...!"

Wren's eyes showed deep regret and self-blame. "I'm sorry..." he said softly. "It's not what I meant to say..."

In an instant he was holding the other in his arms.

It was a full-force assault on Saliou's senses, yet he didn't resist. Instead, he began to tremble painfully. He was too tired to be angry; too physically and emotionally exhausted to be dealing with Wren's attitude and lack of self-control.

"I pursued my dreams. I brought myself back up from a terrible depression. But I feel like I'm in a much better place now. And I did these without you," Saliou said firmly. "I've lived my life without you. I found a way to survive, to grow strong, to move on – all without you."

Saliou placed his hands on Wren's chest to push him away. Naturally, he didn't move. Saliou tried to get his thoughts together; tried to think of something. His mind cleared a little and seemed to lead the way as Wren continued to press himself closer but when his hand came up to caress Saliou's hair, he knew he had to end it.

"Let me go," Saliou pleaded as he pushed Wren again, more forcefully this time.

It was at that moment when they heard a knock, and the door opened.

Rhys emerged carrying a brown paper bag in one hand.

He looked at Wren, and then at Saliou. "Did I... catch you at a bad time?" The scene in front of him confused him.

Panic shot through Saliou as he saw Rhys standing there, a look of utter shock and confusion on his face.

"I...." Rhys' throat constricted, and he silently backed out and closed the door.

Saliou and Wren broke apart in an instant.

"Rhys, wait!" Saliou called out as he dashed out of the office to go after Rhys.

 

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Rhys walked briskly down the hall. Even as Saliou stepped out of his office and called after him, he didn't turn around and just kept walking.

Saliou quickened his pace to fall in step with the other. "Rhys Porter, did you hear me? I said wait up!"

Rhys was almost at the main entrance when Saliou finally caught up to him. He grabbed him by the wrist firmly and spun him around to face him.

Rhys' eyebrows were drawn down low, and his eyes had a mixture of pain and disappointment. It made Saliou's heart sink and thump hard at the same time.

As he tried to catch his breath, he placed his hands on Rhys' shoulders. "Rhys... w-why are you here?"

When he saw Rhys' face twist into a scowl, he realized he asked the wrong question. He tried to backpedal but realized it was too late.

"Didn't you receive my text?" asked Rhys. "I told you I'd be coming over."

"What? But I didn't..." Saliou quickly took his phone out and checked to view Rhys' chat message. There indeed was one unread message from him.

Saliou looked at Rhys, deep regret reflected in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb your moment with –"

"That's not it. You got it all wrong," Saliou explained hastily. "Wren just showed up here all of a sudden and wanted to discuss something with me."

"Wow... It must've been a really serious talk, then," Rhys retorted, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Well, don't let me interrupt you. I'll be on my way and –"

Saliou circled the other's wrist with his hand, snapped his head up and leveled his gaze with Rhys'. "We just talked. There's nothing more."

Rhys couldn't help but let out a scoff. "We'll see," he said dryly, and then shoved the brown paper bag against Saliou's chest. "Here's your lunch. Eat it now before it goes cold."

Before Rhys could turn away again, however, Saliou grabbed his shirt and pulled him back. "Please. I don't want us to fight over something stupid. I'm sorry, okay? Please don't get mad at me, Rhys..."

"I'm trying not to," Rhys said quietly. "I really am. Look, I'm sorry too, but... we can't really talk about this right now. You're busy and so am I."

Saliou nodded. "I know. I'll... I'll see you tonight, okay? I'll be waiting for you."

Behind them came the sound of footsteps, telling them they have company. Rhys looked over Saliou's shoulder with a hardened expression. It was Wren.

Rhys' eyes fell back on Saliou. He leaned close to his ear and whispered, "Please tell him to leave."

Saliou glanced sideways at Wren and with a nod, said to Rhys, "Okay. I will."

When he tried to kiss Rhys on the lips, however, Rhys quickly turned away so that Saliou's lips landed on his cheek. This time, he moved away without hesitating.

Saliou watched until Rhys was out of sight, never looking back. He huffed out a breath. He'd thought Rhys might look back at him, give him some indication that he knew he was still standing there. A vain hope.

"Look at that. He didn't even give you a chance to explain."

Saliou turned to find Wren sidling up next to him, his eyes glistening with curiosity.

"No thanks to you," Saliou replied bitterly. "You know your way out. Please leave. Now. I mean it."

"Sal, we're not – "

Saliou held up his hands to stop the other from saying anything more. "I only let you in for some answers, Wren. That's all. We're over. Now please leave before I call security."

And with that parting shot, Saliou brushed past Wren and left, leaving him standing speechless in the hallway.

 

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Wren Dumont was tired of his social life revolving around his co-workers. Ever since he started working as the section chief for the biggest advertising agency in Idomouth, his days had melded together in a long line of business proposals and marketing communications.

The weekly golf trips with his brothers were reduced to a mere monthly recreation. He barely even had time for Florence during the weekends - let alone on weekdays. To make matters worse, there was no dating life to speak of.

A week ago, he had celebrated his twenty-ninth birthday and realized he almost had no one to invite over. A small chocolate cake appeared in his office and after his colleagues hummed a few bars of Happy Birthday, it was back to business.

Pathetic.

That year, Wren decided on yet another small celebration, with only his family in attendance. Shortly after dinner, he was joined by his elder brothers as they sat at the bar in his basement family room-turned-man cave; sharing a few drinks as if it were just a night out with friends.

Wren and Mason were listening to Noah's talk about the frustrations of his recent divorce, of the nightmarish divorce process, and how it made him almost half a million bucks poorer.

Mason, ever the permanent bachelor and resident playboy, had invited his brothers to an upcoming speed-dating mixer. Noah didn't believe in settling down with anyone so soon, but asked if there could be any chance at all he might go for a one-night stand. 

Meanwhile, Wren couldn't help but be depressed. Years of watching his siblings fool around and date endlessly with no real commitment in sight made him feel dejected. The whole idea of repetitive catch-and-release never held any appeal to him. It's just so... empty and meaningless. An utter waste of time.

Wren hungered for real connection with someone – a person he could share the rest of his life with. He never had any interest in bar-hopping or bed-hopping. Commitment equaled marriage – and marriage comes with all the things he lacked and craved for: companionship, comfort, sex, and love.

Of course, there's only one person in the entire world who could give all of those to him.

"What say you, baby bro?" The sound of Mason's voice broke his reverie.

Wren blinked and cast his eyes on his brother. "Come again?"

Mason put an arm around Wren and leaned close to his ear. "The underground brothel downtown? I'm asking if you wanna' tag along. It's about time you relax and unwind." He punched him lightly on the arm. "Come on, give yourself a break."

Wren was still for a moment, his body unmoving, staring at his brother with a blank expression. "What underground brothel?"

"Are you kidding me right now?" Mason gave him an incredulous look. "What rock have you been hiding under, Wren Dumont?"

When Wren still looked blank, Mason heaved a deep sigh and began to explain.

"God, do I really have to explain everything to you?" He cleared his throat. "Listen. There's a couple of underground brothels in downtown Idomouth. This town has pretty much the most diverse sex workers in the country. Of course, most of them are Beta, but they also have Omegas. Some of these poor folks were abandoned by their Alphas, so getting into business means they can quell their heat while earning a pretty penny on the side. But here's the thing..." He wiggled his eyebrows as he tilted his head closer to Wren. "... they also have unmated Omegas – never been marked, never been pregnant. As pure and rare as fuckin' Pitcairn honey. If you have the money for it, you can get a taste of that sweet ambrosia and fuck the night away!"

Wren would usually put up with his brothers' tomfoolery, but this was no laughing matter.

He glared up at Mason with the purest disgust and said, "In short, an illegal prostitution ring." He shrugged off his brother's arm.  "Please don't tell me you've already gone to one of these hellholes, Mason."

Mason sneered as he poured scotch into his glass and pushed the cork back into the bottle. "You're not gonna' disown me if I say yes, are you?" he jested as he pressed the glass firmly to his lips.

"Jesus Christ, Mason, how irresponsible can you be?" Wren spat. "You're a fucking Dumont. What if someone recognizes you? Aren't you the least bit worried you'd smear the family name because of your recklessness?"

"Not too many people in this godforsaken town know who I am," Mason replied in a vague tone as his gaze slithered away from his younger brother. "Besides, I'm telling you this because you're my brother."

Wren arched an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean? You expect me to just listen and keep my mouth shut?"

"Thank you. You took the words right out of my mouth," Mason said, laughing sardonically.

Wren rolled his eyes. "Stop playing the brother card on me. I hate it when you do that. You can't possibly expect me to just sit back and not say anything, knowing you're getting yourself involved in some shady business!"

Mason would usually enjoy seeing his younger brother get riled up but tonight, he was actually responding – which was no fun.

"That's exactly what I expect, baby brother," Mason said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "Besides, you're a hundred years too early to threaten me. Don't you even dare."

Wren took a firm grip on his beer bottle as he gave Mason a disapproving look. He had never before felt such contempt for his brother.

"Now, now, let's not fight," Noah said, stepping between Wren and Mason, who were glaring at each other, trying to get the other to back down. "We can't have this ruining Wren's special day, can we?" He looked at Mason and gave him a warning look.

Wren was the first to break the gaze. He took a big gulp of his beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "You're both fucked up."

"What, me too?" Noah blurted. "I've no say in this. Besides, I'm about ready to swear off Omegas for good so count me out."

Mason grunted as he elbowed Noah in the ribs. "Bitch, you'll eat your own words," he said, laughing. "Wait 'til you see my secret weapon. Then it's gonna' be a whole new game for you."

Noah snickered. "That hurt, you bitch." He rubbed his ribs as he continued, "But pray tell, what's this 'new game' you're talking about?"

Mason grinned at Noah but before he could open his mouth, Wren stood from his stool and quickly interrupted, "To hell with it. I'm out."

"Hey, hey, hey," the elder brothers said in unison, hastily grabbing Wren by the arm as they pulled him back to his stool.

"Forget the brothel, okay? It might not be to your taste, after all," Mason said as he placed his arm around his brother's neck once more. "But at least let me give you your birthday present. Now this... this is something you'll surely enjoy." He reached his hand inside his shirt pocket, pulled out a small plastic bag, and slipped it in Wren's hand.

Wren looked at the small packet. Inside were three black capsules, each slightly larger than a vitamin pill.

He glared up at Mason with questioning eyes. "What the fuck is this, Mason?"

"What's it for?" Noah asked as he eyed the capsules suspiciously.

"These little babies," Mason started, grinning as he tapped a finger on the packet, "will give you an even more intense high than any other upper."

"Did you just give me drugs?" Wren tossed the packet back to Mason. "Are you insane?!"

"Hold your horses, Wren, it's not meth, for god's sake." Mason pushed the plastic bag back to Wren.

"What the fuck is it, then?" Wren demanded hotly.

"It's... a new kind of drug. A recreational drug," Mason explained as calmly as he could. "It's a side project I've been working on for years."

"Ohhh, is this what I think it is?" Noah asked, sounding very intrigued as he took the packet from Wren's hand.

"Yes, and I think I've perfected it this time." Mason smirked a little, looking proud of himself. 

"If it's a recreational drug, then it's most likely illegal," Wren countered.

"Unapproved, yes. Illegal, no," Mason asserted. "Just a couple more months and you'll be seeing them in pharmacies, that I guarantee you."

"Then give it to me once they're approved and legal," Wren retorted, his voice acid.  "But you still haven't answered my question. What are these, exactly?"

Mason swallowed hard and wet his lips before speaking. "I... I call them 'heat inducers'. Because they're exactly that - they induce heat."

Wren shook his head and knitted his eyebrows in confusion. "Mason. Human language, please."

"Jeez, where were you when they taught this in biology class?" Mason huffed impatiently, annoyed. "All Omegas go through heats, yes? We know when they're most fertile and when they can protect themselves because of it. They have heat suppressants to help with that, too. Yet so much of the education we get in school focuses on how these drugs alleviate an Omega's heat. But there's always two sides to a coin, Wren." His eyes darted to the packet of pills, now back in Wren's hand. "That's the opposite side to the coin, baby bro. It triggers an Omega's heat, even if it's outside their regular cycle. But unlike the unrefined ones you see in the black market -"

"There's a black market for these?" Wren asked, shocked and dismayed.

"Yes, you innocent little angel, there's a black market for almost everything. Wake the fuck up - it's not all rainbows and roses out there!" Mason snapped. "So where was I? Yes, the black market. These inducers I've developed don't alter an Omega's suppressor genes, unlike the shitty ones they sell underground, which completely messes up an Omega's estrus cycle." He cleared his throat before adding, "I'm practically doing god's work here, dear brothers. I've developed a more refined inducer with far less adverse effects! It just temporarily disables suppressors, binds with them, and triggers a pheromone release. I just, you know, took it up a notch a little. My inducers can also enhance an Omega's sex drive, causing them to release more than the usual amount of pheromones. You get the picture now?" He had a devilish smile plastered across his face as he took the plastic bag and swished it against Wren's face, "And you, baby bro, will get to try it out firsthand."

Wren sat motionless, staring blankly at the packet of pills, seemingly entranced by his brother's words.

"These babies tend to work quickly but I'm currently developing a sustained-release form that'll make the effect more manageable. Rest assured, though, that the effects can be abated by regular heat suppressants. You just have to get the Omega to take a double dose and everything will be A-okay." He slid the packet back in Wren's hand and patted him on the shoulder. "This is heaven in a capsule, Wren – a taste of an Alpha's ambrosia. Just imagine getting an Omega in heat anytime you want. I'm quite sure you've fucked a couple of them in heat before. Right? Do you ever recall anything more exhilarating? Anything more ecstatically mind-blowing, you'd almost forget your name in the heat of the moment?"

Wren shook his head clear and quickly snapped back to his senses. He gave his brother a stern sideways glare. "So you've already used this on someone at the brothel?"

Mason glared back at him. "Don't look at me like I'm a criminal. Yes, okay, I fucked someone from a brothel. So what? That's what they're paid for, aren't they?" He gulped down the rest of his scotch and looked at Wren. "I didn't get anyone pregnant, if that's what you wanna' know. And I sure as hell am not stupid to be marking some rando just because I'm in a rut. That's the thing with underground brothels: they take extra measures to make sure none of their workers get marked or pregnant. It's bad for business, after all."

"So despicable." Wren clenched his teeth and slammed his hand onto the bar top. "Can't you just use that big brain of yours for something more useful?" he snarled. "Because of this, you're putting yourself and the very company you're working for at a dangerous risk!"

Noah leaned his elbows against the bar, fingers pressed together against his lips. "Wren has a point. Phoenix Medical is a subsidiary company of Pharmalyticals Corp, isn't it? And father did everything he could to get you to where you are now. You can't possibly risk getting him publicly involved in something like this."

Mason expected Noah to be on his side on the matter. He was somewhat shocked, but much more disappointed by the other's reaction.

"I'm not that stupid," he said, getting a little agitated with his brothers. "I've already considered all the risks before I got myself into this. Right now, I'm well aware I'm stepping over a legal line." He paused briefly as if a new thought came to him, and then shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, well, maybe a couple of legal lines. I know there are sanctions to these things, okay? But that entirely depends on where you're doing business. It may be regulated in one country but could be perfectly legal in another. My point is, it's not entirely illegal."

"You said so yourself. To you, this is business – just another means to make money!" Wren thundered. "But aren't you the least bit concerned you're putting other people's lives in danger?" He cleared his throat and slammed his bottle on the table. "You know what, forget it. No one can guarantee there's zero risk associated with this – this drug of yours. It'll never get approved and will never get to market. What do you think father and his team worked so hard to create suppressors for, Mason? Are they a joke to you?"

But Mason still seemed unaffected, and he listened intently to his brother's tirade without so much as the bat of an eyelid.

He managed to let out a low grunt and raked his fingers through his hair. "You know what, there are lots of people out there who'd kill just to get their hands on these pills. You should be happy that some smart scientist developed this drug and is willing to accept the risks for you lot. Not willing to take the same risks? Don't buy the fucking drug!"

"Then you better stop forcing it on me!" Wren yelled back.

"Boys?" A female voice called out from upstairs, cutting their argument short. 

The brothers looked up at the staircase to find Mrs. Dumont peering down at them.

"Is everything alright? It's getting quite late. Your father and I need to head back home in five."

"And Flo?" Wren asked impulsively, facing his mother. "Has she gone to bed yet?"

"Goodness, yes. It's already ten o'clock, after all," Mrs. Dumont replied as she stepped back to the doorway. "Mason, Noah, time to wrap it up. Let's go."

"I'll see you guys off, then." Wren quickly straightened in his seat.

But Mason grabbed his arm once more and pulled him back into the stool.

"Not a word, Wren," he warned his brother, eyes dark and stern with determination.

Before Wren could utter a word, Mason shoved the packet back into his coat pocket.

"Haven't you listened to a word I've said? I don't want to have anything to –"

"Underground brothels make for a good playground for something like this, but forget it," Mason pushed on, ignoring Wren's retaliation. "But you know what's a better idea?" He paused dramatically, his face serious and earnest. "Saliou."

Renewed anxiety showed in Wren's eyes as Mason mentioned Saliou's name.

"I heard you're trying to get back together with him. Well, good for you. Now couldn't be a better time to get back on track," Mason said, determined to push Wren's buttons.

"Mason, stop it..." Noah muttered as he placed both hands on Mason's arm, pushing him forward. 

Mason pretended not to hear him and continued talking to Wren. "You may not say it upfront, but I know you've been thinking about it. And you can't fake a thought, Wren. If there's anyone here who needs those pills the most, I'm sure as hell it's you. You're connected to Saliou. He's your Fated Pair. You're craving what you don't have."

Wren clenched his fists under the table to stop them from visibly shaking. 

"Maybe, but even if I crave connection, I'm not about to resort to something so underhanded, like what you're asking me to do."

"You say that with such confidence, but I know your Omega's making things difficult for you right now. I can almost smell your desperation."

Wren didn't respond. Mason expected as much. His voice was taunting, had meant it to be just that. He just knows how to ruffle his brother's feathers.

He slowly stood up from his stool, shrugged off Noah's hand, then went for the stairs. "Practice is better than theory. See it for yourself before you complain," Mason said before adding, "I'm sure you'll thank me later, birthday boy." He wrung his hands in his best ingratiating manner then gave a two-finger salute before disappearing upstairs.

Wren opened his mouth to protest further but thought better of it. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked back around the bar to fix himself a shot of bourbon.

Noah stood at the foot of the stairs, gave his younger brother a sympathetic look, and said softly, "Don't take him seriously, Wren. Just... Just try to forget what Mason said. You know better than to let him get to you. And those pills... you can throw them out if you want to."

Wren wrinkled his nose with distaste, spread his arms out on the edge of the bar, and hunched his shoulders. "Just go, Noah. I... I need some time to myself."

Noah inhaled sharply. "I'm sorry about all this, but... Happy birthday, Wren," he muttered as he slowly made his way upstairs.

Wren heard the door close behind Noah and he slumped back on the chair with a sigh, allowing his body to relax for a moment, glad to be left alone.

Yet his conflicting emotions had him utterly confused and at his wits' end.

He took out the packet of pills from his pocket, gazed at it for a long time, absorbed himself in his own muddled thoughts. It's remarkable that something so small can be so potent. It's like hiding one's deepest and darkest desires in the palm of one's hand.

But isn't that what they truly are?

Wren felt heavy and burdened. He shrunk back, closed his eyes; feeling ashamed of what he deemed a weakness – an Alpha's weakness. These little pills in his hand were laden with an immense responsibility. Yet he didn't know what to do with them.

Before the night ended, Wren decided to keep them; hid them in one of his drawers. But when he did, it became wholly impossible to recover his peace of mind. He was afraid for his brothers, afraid for his family, afraid of what he might do the longer he kept them.

In the following days, Wren managed to shake off his fears to some degree. Yet as time passed, it began to gnaw at his conscience. He had to weigh his options carefully. And then, he needed to choose wisely.

But as he'd often heard, 'desperate times demand desperate choices'. Had he finally become desperate enough to take any chance he could find?

It was too scary to say, let alone contemplate.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 4.