⚠️ 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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Saliou had been on Wren's mind quite often. Ever since he celebrated his birthday almost a month ago. Ever since he received that gift of the most questionable nature.

His conscience had been the first to suffer and now, he's afraid his will would come next.

Seven years later, at twenty-nine, Wren was still carrying a torch for a relationship he hoped would still be rekindled. God knows how much he'd been trying to patch things up with Saliou but as it turned out, even that seemed almost impossible now.

No... It can't be.

Wren still believed that his failure to fight for his relationship with Saliou was the worst mistake he's ever made in his life. He couldn't forgive himself for making a seriously wrong decision in the past – and that's what made it hard for him to move on. But while this thought constantly put him down, he was not ready to let go of his Omega.

It's hard to stop caring for someone when they've spent a long time in someone's heart. And for Wren, it was difficult to forget all the happiness, all the good times he'd spent together with Saliou.

In hindsight, he believed that he will never be happy without the other. They were destined to spend their lives together. That's how it was supposed to be.

He wanted to resolve the issue but try as he might, Saliou was running away from it all. This frustrated Wren to no end.

But there was another way to settle the matter...

If he can't get through to Saliou, then perhaps someone else can do the convincing for him – someone who can talk some sense into him. Although he hated to admit it, even to himself, he had to accept the fact there's only one person in mind who can do this for him. This was a more desperate solution to the problem.

One Tuesday morning, as luck would have it, Saliou's car was in the shop and Wren ended up having to be the one to pick up Florence from school.

"Daddy, can we please pass by the bakery before going home?" Florence asked with her doe eyes widened.

"Sure, honey," Wren replied. "Is it somewhere along the way? What do you have in mind? Cinnamon roll, egg tart..."

"Uhm..." Florence stuck her thumb in her mouth and turned her head to look at her father. "I miss the rainbow cupcakes. They have it at The Pastry Emporium." She looked out the window. "It's somewhere over... there!"

Wren looked in the direction she'd pointed and saw a sign that read The Pastry Emporium in beautifully stylized Old English script. Behind it was an enormous glass case filled with pies, pastries, and cakes in all shapes and colors.

Wren slowly pulled the car into the parking space across the bakery and turned the ignition off. He looked around for a moment, then stared ahead impassively. Something about the place sounded familiar.

"Daddy, can I go with you?" Flo asked, taking off her seatbelt. "I want to see Uncle Rhys, too."

It took a few seconds to register and when it did, Wren furrowed his eyebrows. "Wait. This is his bakery?"

Flo looked at her Dad narrowly and nodded.

No wonder it seemed familiar, Wren thought to himself. He bit his lip to keep back a groan.

He contemplated what his next move should be, but only for a moment. "Can you wait for me here?" he asked as he reached out to fasten Flo's seatbelt again.

"Why?" Flo asked around the thumb she'd started to nip.

"I'll buy you as many rainbow cupcakes as you want, but you need to stay here. Can you do that for me, honey? I won't be long. I promise."

Flo hesitated a moment, then nodded.

"Daddy, say hi to Uncle Rhys for me, please?"

But Wren had already stepped out of the vehicle and ambled his way across the street before Flo could see his response. 

 

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Tuesday was almost as normal a day as any other day at The Pastry Emporium. But ever since Rhys' assistant baker had been away for her month-long honeymoon, his workload had nearly doubled.

He was grateful for the work, though. It had kept his mind preoccupied and distracted from unwanted thoughts – at least in part.

The few times Rhys was able to fully open up and share his feelings with someone, he ended up being so mentally and emotionally drained that he had to isolate himself for days.

That was ages ago, after his final argument with his ex-husband Matthew.

Rhys believed he had already locked up these negative thoughts and emotional memories in the deepest recesses of his mind. For many years, he'd been afraid to open those doors again, expecting that if he did, he wouldn't be able to throw them back in despite his efforts to control them.

Even until now, Rhys wasn't sure he deserved to be happy or whether his relationship with Saliou would last through the long term. His previous relationship had left deep emotional scars and he didn't expect they'd fade away anytime soon. He wanted a long-lasting relationship, though. He yearned for it.

But when Saliou's former flame re-entered his life and was more than adamant to make up for lost time, Rhys felt as though the scars from his past were threatening to reopen again. He could almost feel the pain, the sadness, and the shame enveloping him as it had once enveloped him before. He wanted so badly to say something to Saliou, to fix it immediately. But he waited. He had to. Saliou had to make the first move.

And then... nothing came.

Rhys thought that people who have never faced such issues in the past, may have a difficult time understanding his feelings. But he expected differently from Saliou. It wasn't to say that, simply because he hadn't confronted him about Wren, doesn't mean the problem had resolved itself. He was upset and disappointed with his lover's attitude.

They'd never talked about the incident at the museum and even then, Rhys never said what he felt. What he felt, all the time, with each passing day, was a horrible sense of trepidation. In fact, it's the reason he'd been trying to put off meeting with Saliou.

Although they talked on the phone at least a couple of times a day, Rhys had barely seen Saliou over the past several weeks. He tried to keep away, making all sorts of excuses not to see the other, just to get his head around everything. 

 

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Rhys was especially exhausted that day. After a couple of deliveries, the rest of his afternoon dragged like Christmas Eve to an eager child.

At 5 PM, he was longing to close up shop so he could go home. There were orders that needed to be sorted out and he could put the finishing touches to the fondant cake that needed to be delivered the next day. They're enough to keep him busy for the rest of the evening. That was, if he could resist the urge to crawl in bed and get some much-deserved sleep.

He was just tucking his apron to one of the drawers when the shop bell above the door rang.

"I'm sorry, we're closed so you'll have to..." He looked up and the words died on his lips when he saw the man standing in the doorway. "Mr. Dumont. Welcome to The Pastry Emporium." He dropped his gaze and slowly slid the drawer closed.

Wren quietly stepped into the shop, closed the door, then stood in the middle of the room looking like some cool and devastating stranger with his well-fitted suit.

But there was something about his face and the rigid set of his shoulders that made Rhys run his tongue over his lips and say, "How can I help you?"

Wren slowly walked to the counter and eyed the pastries invitingly lined up in the glass case next to it. "I'd like a dozen cupcakes."

Rhys nodded as he ducked behind the counter to grab a pastry box. "I'm guessing it's for Flo," he said, breaking the tense silence between them. He placed the box on the counter, whipped the glass case open, and reached inside. "Which kind?"

"The rainbow ones," Wren answered dryly, avoiding eye contact as he tapped his fingers noisily against the counter.

"Right. This is Flo's favorite," said Rhys as he grabbed the cupcakes one-by-one with a pair of tongs and placed them in the pastry box. "I'll just add one more since it's the last piece for today. It's on me."

Wren didn't respond this time. His head was tilted to the opposite side as he stared at something on the wall on the far side of the room.

Rhys lifted his gaze to stare over his shoulder in an attempt to see what had caught the other's attention. It was one of Saliou's old paintings.

He set the pastry box back on the counter, closed the lid, and slid it towards Wren. "That'll be twenty-four dollars. Tell Flo to go easy on these."

Wren turned his attention back to Rhys. This time, however, an expression of stern anxiety was painted across his face.

"I need to talk to you."

Rhys glanced sideways at the staff room just behind the counter and remembered that two of his staff were still inside getting changed.

He shifted his gaze back to Wren. "Let's talk outside." His words came out surprisingly calmly, despite the frantic words spinning around his head. Words that were desperate to spill forth but had to get into some sort of order before he'd be able to say them to Wren.

Wren followed Rhys outside the shop. He took a seat in one of the outdoor couches, but the other remained standing, so he stood up again. He pulled out an unfamiliar-looking pack of cigarettes and took a stick out, leaning back against the wall.

"You smoke?" he asked the other.

Rhys shook his head. "This is a non-smoking area."

Wren proceeded to light the cigarette anyway, took a deep drag, and exhaled. The nicotine hit his bloodstream, danced its vicious ballet on his nerves, and the much-needed endorphins flooded his brain.

"I won't be long. I just need to get a few words out," Wren said, forcing his voice to remain detached.

"Okay." Rhys replied in a deadpan voice. He knew he wouldn't like what the man was about to say, yet he had to ask. "What is it, then?"

"Saliou. I want him back."

Rhys stared at Wren gloomily a moment, and then laughed his shrill, mocking laugh. "Of course, of course. I didn't really expect you'd just waltz in here without spouting something so ludicrous."

For Wren, this was no time to mince his words. "I'm still in love with Saliou," he said frankly, "and I know he still has feelings for me. I can't see him with anyone else – especially with someone like you."

"You got to be kidding me..." Rhys crossed his arms over his chest and inclined his head disdainfully, wondering how this bastard had the gall to approach him and say such arrogant things.

Still glaring at Rhys, Wren took a long drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke from the side of his mouth. "No disrespect, but I love Saliou and I want him back. I need him back."

"No disrespect, but are you crazy?" Rhys' tone was tight and edgy now. "Didn't you get the memo? Saliou doesn't want you back anymore. I have no hand in his life and his own decisions. You're barking up the wrong tree here, man."

"Don't you know how miserable Sal's life would be with a Beta? Let's face it. You're not meant for each other. I'm sorry to break it to you but you may just be a passing fling or – or some casual interlude in his life. Sal's obviously confused right now, and you need to help him clear his mind. That's the least you can do for him."

Rhys could feel himself heat up from how furious he was, but what scared him the most was that he could hardly control his emotion. He was afraid he'd soon come to a point where his anger was beyond him.

"I really want to go easy on you, man, but you're delirious and disgustingly obsessed. You make me want to knock some sense into you." He was able to say under his teeth.

"I don't care what you think of me, okay? I'm just asking you to bring Sal back into my life. I love him so much. Can't he see this? I don't think I've ever needed anyone so much in my life! Except for my daughter, I've never felt such strong urge to be accepted by someone. It's – It's consuming my every waking moment. I've – I've wanted him since the day I met him. And Saliou, for me too!"

Rhys stared at Wren's red and watery eyes. Until now, his words could be written off as the ramblings of a crazed man. But he knew this person was beyond desperate now, and this was his final effort at coherence. It was pathetic yet pitiful at the same time. And Rhys was in for it.

"But it seems he doesn't want me anymore," Wren continued, "I still remember when he needed me. It was all about wanting me back then." And then, he shot an accusing look at Rhys. "It's different now, because you're here, getting in the way of things. Sal just reached out to hold onto someone he felt would support him. But doesn't he realize it's only temporary? I'm here now, and I'll be much more protective of what is mine."

With Wren's accusations burning in his ears, Rhys narrowed his gaze. "This is the problem with you pushy and egotistic Alphas," he growled, clenching his knuckles so tightly they almost turned white. He was finding it hard to maintain his composure now. "You expect others to do your bidding – to do exactly what you command. And then you start lashing about, throwing childish tantrums when things don't go your way. But have you ever stopped to consider that perhaps the world doesn't revolve around you? You can't always get what you want, Alpha."

Wren clenched his jaw tightly, Rhys' words sinking in ominously. "We may not always get what we want, but we usually get what we expect. And I expect to get my Omega back."

It was then when the hair on the back of Rhys' neck, raised. A scent teased his nose and although it was too faint, he knew it was the Alpha's scent. Perhaps if he were an Omega, it would have already made him drop to his knees and tremble helplessly.

Not today, you bastard, Rhys said to himself. One doesn't even have to be an Alpha to know they're being challenged. Wren's deliberate display of hostility only put him into full fighting mode.

They faced one another.

Wren dropped his cigarette on the ground, stepped on it, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket. "Do you really want things to end this way, Beta? You have no idea what havoc you're wreaking," he said to Rhys threateningly.

Rhys' thoughts darkened. Despite the Alpha's menacing aura, he stood unflinchingly, gazing back at the other with flashing eyes.

"Saliou's not an object I can just give away whenever I please. I'm not sure if you're aware of it but he's a human being. Someone with feelings, thoughts, and emotions. I don't know what your intentions are, Mr. Dumont, but you seem to be toying with him." Rhys took in a deep breath and exhaled sharply. "The more you keep hounding Saliou, the more he fears you. I doubt you see that, though. You're stuck on this crazy illusion – this pretense that your Omega will keep loving you and wait for you however long it took. But that pretense is all yours. Your mind is so clouded, so dusty with thoughts and dreams of the past. You're keeping yourself in one fucking place, at one moment in time, stuck in a dream that's long since left and abandoned you. But Saliou's moved on. He's moved on a long time ago." He paused to meet Wren's eyes and with a look of determination, said, "Do yourself the same favor. Wake the fuck up and move on."

By then, both men knew the situation had already gone beyond the point of no return. In their eyes, any hope of a peaceful resolution was now virtually nonexistent. So when Rhys attempted to open his mouth to speak again, Wren promptly shoved his fist into it with as much force as he could muster.

Rhys fell backwards, shocked by the power behind the blow. He felt the sting of a cut on his lips; felt warm blood trickling down the inside of his mouth. He licked away the metallic taste. His head pounded wildly though only for a few beats before it dulled and the two images of Wren standing right in front of him, slamming his fist into his palm, melded into one.

Murderous rage burned hot and wild in Rhys. He glowered at Wren, chuckling as he brushed his thumb across his lips and spat blood on the ground.

"I expected more from you than this blind hate you're shoving down my throat. But in the end, you're just a sore loser, Mr. Dumont."

Rhys heaved himself to his feet and didn't waste a second to appraise his opponent. He aimed straight for Wren's face, landing blow after satisfying blow on his cheeks, his jaw, his mouth. At that point, his sole intention was to rip the Alpha's brain out from the back of his skull, show it to him just to prove he had one, but today, for reasons known only to Rhys, had decided not to use it.

Wren reeled back, hand to one cheek, his face expressing utter shock and pain. But he had no intention of turning tail. He's an Alpha, for fuck's sake. He'd get in a lick or two until he could beat this measly Beta into a miserable night's sleep.

Rhys grinned savagely, mockingly. "That's right. Give me a good fight, you son of a bitch!"

As the two exchanged blows, droplets of blood spattered in all directions. Wren managed to grab a hold of Rhys and together they fell to the ground in a twisted ball of white and black.

From there, things got even more tumultuous.

Rhys could hear voices all around them, yelling different things. But he couldn't make out anything intelligible. He wasn't really listening, anyway. He was too busy trying to land punches to any area of Wren's head and chest. His only interest was to show this pathetic Alpha he had picked both the wrong day and certainly the wrong person to provoke.

In their scuffle, they had knocked over the sign board and some chairs. As they rolled on the ground, Wren managed to gain position on top of the other.

Rhys took this as another opportunity to show Wren just how useless his brain is. He grabbed the Alpha's head with both hands and slammed his forehead into the other's chin, sending Wren reeling back once more.

He may have succeeded to land another heavy blow had not so many other hands grabbed and tried to wrench him away from Wren. Blinded by his own rage, Wren was still reaching out, trying to get any part of Rhys back in his grasp as he too was pulled apart from the other.

It was then when both men noticed that they have now been surrounded by two of Rhys' staff and a couple more passersby.

The scuffle hadn't lasted long, so Rhys thought, and here he was just getting warmed up and about to launch a final attack on Wren when he heard a familiar voice coming from across the street.

"Daddy? Uncle Rhys?" came the frantic voice of Florence, which snapped both Wren and Rhys back to their senses.

The little girl was standing on the other side of the street, visibly shaken and in tears. "Please don't fight!" she yelled with a broken voice, shaking her head.

"F-Florence!" Wren called out as he gulped air into his lungs to help still the quiver of his aching body. "Stay where you are, honey! I told you not to get out of the car, didn't I?" One of the passersby grasped him under the arm and helped him to his feet as he stood.

Rhys grunted, sucking in air into his heaving chest. He was still seeing stars, but he managed to get himself up. "Y-You left her by herself in the car? What the hell is wrong with you?"

Wren glowered at him as he spat more and more blood out of his mouth, wiping the rest of it with his hand. "None of your fucking business," he muttered icily. "I don't want you around my daughter, you hear me?"

"Speak for yourself, you asshole!" Rhys retorted. "She's far more unsafe around you. You're not in the right state of mind to be taking care of a child!"

Wren gave him a menacing glare and lifted his chin, as if he were challenging the other. "And what? You'll report me to child protective services? To the cops?" He wrenched his arm from the grip of the stranger who had helped him up. And then, he raised a warning finger in Rhys' direction. "Don't you dare test me."

Rhys lifted his head higher so that his bloodied face was fully visible, fearless and impenetrable. He spoke with icy precision. "Don't test me, Alpha."

He held Wren's livid gaze for a few more moments.

"This isn't over between us," Wren said.

"We're done here," Rhys answered back.

"We're not done until I say we're done," Wren argued.

"You'll go, or I'll call the cops."

With that, Wren turned away, the entire time still dizzy as he made his way across the street towards Flo. He was struggling to maintain his balance, seeing little white flashes as he went.

Rhys and his staff watched in silence as one of the passersby offered to help Wren, but one he quickly refused. Flo was still crying when Wren took her by the hand and walked her to the passenger side of the car. Once she climbed in, Wren went around to the driver's side, slid in behind the wheel, and drove out as fast as he could without creating any more fuss.

"I don't think the guy's in any condition to drive. And with a kid, too," one of Rhys' staff commented.

"I'll sort this out myself," Rhys replied as he slumped down weakly into a chair against the wall and put the sign board back up.

His staff looked at him concernedly.

"You don't look so good yourself, Mr. Porter," said one of them. "Should we take you to the hospital?"

During the commotion, Rhys had forgotten about the pain. Now, it's back with a vengeance.

The other staff groaned as he looked at the wounds on Rhys' face. He pointed to his left cheek and said, "You're probably going to have a small scar over here, but I don't think the wound's deep enough to have done any real damage. But maybe you need to get a couple of stitches – "

"No stitches."

"Sir, why don't I go get my car and I'll take you to the hospital –"

"No," Rhys said firmly. "No stitches. No hospitals."

"But Sir –"

"The cut's not bad. You said so yourself." Waving a hand to dismiss the whole matter, Rhys shook his head dejectedly. "You guys can go home now." He winced with pain as he straightened up. "You've seen it; the show's over."

 

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It was well after six o'clock when Rhys and his remaining staff finally closed up shop for the night.

When he got into his car, the pain became almost unbearable.

"So much for a relaxing night at home..." he mumbled to himself. He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the roaring pain in his ribs. He wondered if he could make it home in one piece. He wondered if he could drive himself home, if at all.

Saliou's apartment is just a five-minute drive from the shop. Surely I could manage that short distance.

Right. He had not yet confronted Saliou. In fact, he had gone to considerable effort not to confront him. And now look where it had brought him.

That's it. He needed to see Saliou tonight. Confront him once and for all. Then perhaps all this pent-up frustration will finally stop haunting him.

It seemed pathetic but it took him this long to realize he already loves Saliou greatly. He loves him so much he could no longer afford to lose him. But there are some things – too many things – that he desired and wished to avoid – ones he couldn't easily get out of his system.

Rhys understood that memories of his previous relationship – both the good and the bad – had occupied much too large a part of himself. And it was a part he couldn't easily share with Saliou. But because of that, Saliou could never know him as deeply as he deserved.

But Rhys longed to belong somewhere, to be part of something calm and fulfilling. He finally found that in Saliou, and only a fool would let him go. But for him to find his place, he had to walk out of the shadow of his past and the old tragedy that came with it.

Rhys needed to set things straight with Saliou – a task that needed to be done sooner rather than later. But first, he had to tell him about his past and his fears for the future.

 

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Saliou had long planned to thoroughly clean the apartment in the springtime. But before he knew it, the season had already passed, work and art gigs got him preoccupied, and the flat was now left with thick dust and mud season grime that had settled on the windows and walls. Spring may be over but it's never too late to do some serious cleaning to let in the fresh air of a new season.

That day, Saliou got busy taking up all the rugs and carpets in the apartment, then took them out to the clothesline to beat two seasons' worth of dust out of them. Around three in the late afternoon, he decided to do some laundry, which he'd been putting off for some time now.

At the end of the day, he realized that cleaning an apartment can be exhilarating and exhausting at the same time. He had newfound respect for anyone who spares time for it. Either way, he can choose to ignore all the clutter for another season but the intruding junk in his small art studio are now begging for his attention.

The accumulation of potentially fascinating things that could be discarded was something Saliou had never considered. When he lived at home with Milou and his parents, someone else had done the cleaning for him, so the idea of throwing away some of his stuff had never crossed his mind. That was probably why his desk was such a mess.

When he finished doing the laundry at five, he decided to attack his cabinets and desk. The desk would have to come first. With the top cleaned and dusted off, he then invaded the drawers.

It was then when he had found his old journal, which he started writing in his senior year in high school and finished the final entry when he began working for Skye International. He decided to spend some quiet time in his bedroom to skim through his old stories.

The journal was mostly about his inner thoughts which he had never shared with anyone – not even with Milou. It went from how much anxiety he was going through when he and Wren had kept their relationship a secret, to his sexual escapades with Wren. Now, as he read through his entries, Saliou couldn't help but be mortified for writing such explicit details. Yet as he read through them, he realized how much of a normal young man he proved to be.

As Saliou continued to flip through the pages, a dried, pressed flower fell out. It slid into his hand, and he held it up to the lamp by its stem. It was a camellia, at the cusp of unfurling, perfectly preserved, its petals still with their exquisite form yet washed of its soft pink color.

It was the flower Wren had given him at the gazebo, on his twenty-first birthday.

Saliou's mouth curved reminiscently. He always did like to collect mementos, but this was the only flower he had chosen to keep. Because it meant so much to him. Or at least it used to.

He pressed his nose to the petals and inhaled, wondering if he was able to keep its scent. As he did, a small piece of a petal flaked off the edge and went flitting down to his lap. He was disappointed. Not only did its color fade out, its scent faded over time as well.

Much like his love for the man who had given it to him.

Humans are creatures of habit, and this couldn't be more true for Saliou. He used to be afraid of change and found comfort with the familiar. Wren Dumont happened to be one of those familiar, ever-present aspects in his life. Saliou was attached to him – without or without Imprinting he would not know. He used to want things to stay the same, too. And when Wren first declared his undying love for him, Saliou had an assumption – or at least a heartfelt hope – that it would surely last forever, come what may.

Yet they were placed in a situation in which nothing could be done, and sacrifices must be made...

Surprisingly however, Saliou felt no regret about his past decisions. He used to protect himself from the realization that he could never be with Wren again, wallowing in despair instead of rocking the boat and facing the other way.

But now, he was past the bereavement, past the tears, past the anger and misery. After so many years, he finally plucked up the courage to embrace the fact that Wren was never truly meant for him.

Hopefully, Wren could move on too, and learn to accept this new reality between them. Because when Rhys came into Saliou's life, he realized two things: that he was willing to fall in love once more even if it meant risking getting hurt again. And that finally, he found someone worth the risk. It took all those tears, all those heartbreaks and disappointment to be able to recognize something real when he'd found it.

Memories from his past were safely tucked away in that journal, just like the story behind the pressed camellia. With a satisfied sigh, Saliou placed it back between two pages and closed the journal.

Wren was a closed chapter in his life. Saliou wanted to leave it like that. It's the way things are supposed to be.

 

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Saliou was just about to return the journal to his studio when he heard the sound of a car pulling into his driveway. He paused a moment, his forehead creased by a thoughtful frown. He wasn't expecting anyone that night.

He heard the engine shut off, a car door opened and then closed. From the living room, he could see a dark figure walk around to the front of his apartment, followed by the ring of the doorbell. Saliou started for the door.

"Sal, it's me," Rhys called from the other side.

Saliou whipped the door open and gasped at the sight of Rhys' beat-up face; his bloodied lips and nose, deeply bruised cheeks, and the blackened skin beneath his right eye. Rhys clutched his side, face contorted with pain.

A look of panic registered on Saliou's face, his eyes opened wide. "Rhys! What the hell happened to you?"

Rhys tried to crack a smile, but it made his lips hurt even more. Instead, he raised his knuckles, which were just as badly wounded as his face. "There was... an ill-mannered customer."

"What? Did you report it to the police?"

"Can we talk inside?"

Saliou quickly pulled him inside the flat and into the kitchen where he made Rhys sit down. He ran into the bathroom, but returned just as quickly with a bottle of painkillers and a first-aid kit. He handed Rhys a couple of pills, which he downed swiftly with water.

"Your hands?" Saliou probed as he placed a basin of water on the table and pulled up a chair next to Rhys.

"Hands seem okay. Think I cracked a rib or two, though," Rhys replied as calmly and coolly as he could.

"Jesus Christ, these injuries look serious," Saliou remarked, trying to get his heart to stop pounding in his chest as he closely inspected Rhys' wounds. He held the other's face and carefully dabbed it with wet cloth.

Rhys put his hand on Saliou's. "I'm sorry."

Saliou looked up at him and inhaled. "You gonna' tell me what happened?"

Rhys looked down and pulled his hand away so Saliou could continue cleaning his wounds. He couldn't let the other's gaze penetrate him too deeply. "It was – " his voice quivered as he spoke. "It was some rowdy customer. First time I'd seen the guy around. He was... a little drunk. Probably a bit wrong in the head, too. I was about to close up shop, but he forced his way in. Things got a little out of hand."

Saliou took out the antibiotic cream from the first-aid kit, then went to brew some tea.

"Were you alone when it happened?"

"No. Raph and Hans were there, too."

"And the assailant? Was he arrested?"

Rhys hesitated a moment, then nodded.

"Tea? It's chamomile. It'll calm your nerves." Saliou laid the cup of tea on the island counter near Rhys, who mouthed a silent "thank you" as he took a sip. He applied a bit of antibiotic cream to a cotton bud, and carefully dabbed at the cut on Rhys' cheek. "I hope this helps. It's supposed to help with eczema and ulcers."

"I've none of those."

"No, but your face looks like you've just come out of a meat grinder," Saliou replied as he smeared more of the cream over a red patch on his chin. "When did this all happen?"

"It was –" Rhys checked his watch, " – about an hour ago?"

Saliou dropped his gaze, looking a little disheartened. "Why didn't you call me straight away? I would've gone to pick you up." He discarded the cotton bud and twisted the cap back on the cream. He handed the wet cloth to Rhys, waiting for a more detailed explanation.

Rhys sighed as he dabbed the cloth to the side of his neck. "Don't worry. It's all been settled."

Seeing as he could no longer get any more information out of Rhys, Saliou frowned before pulling the other close to him. "Did he beat you up?"

"No." Rhys dropped the wet cloth into the basin and hugged Saliou back. "On the contrary, I beat the guy senseless."

"What did you do?"

"What do you mean what did I do?"

"The rowdy customer. What provoked him?"

Rhys broke away from the embrace. "It doesn't matter now. He was just some crazy asshole."

Saliou narrowed his eyes. "Rhys."

"Sal."

"Rhys."

Rhys breathed a sigh as he ran a hand over his face. He leaned back in his chair, every bit of energy drained from his body as his muscles relaxed. "I don't really feel like talking about it, babe..."

Saliou scowled as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I was just trying to be sympathetic. You can't expect me to pretend not to be worried. Besides, you're not the type who'd beat someone up, no matter how aggravating the situation can get."

"I'm... not exactly in the best of moods today," Rhys admitted. He then leaned forward and slumped with his head on Saliou's shoulder. "I didn't like to succumb to a bad mood, but that guy, well..." His mouth found its way on the soft area just under Saliou's ear. "Can we not talk about it today? Please?" His lips ghosted the other's neck, planting tiny kisses. "I came here because I wanted to see your face. In fact, the sight of you makes me feel better already."

For Saliou, his words weren't exactly reassuring. "Wish I could say the same about you. But with your badly beaten up face, I'm feeling anything but good right now."

Rhys wrapped his arms around Saliou's waist. He cleared his throat before saying, "Actually, I came here because... I've been meaning to tell you something for a really long time. But I've been scared to."

For some reason, Saliou's heart sped up and pounded against his chest. "Alright... What is it?"

Rhys tilted his head back to look him in the eyes. "Do you think you can drop me off at home? We can talk about it in the car."

Saliou gave him a confused look. "Uh, okay, but I expected you'd be staying the night. And you said your ribs hurt. Are you sure you don't want me to accompany you to the ER instead so you can – "

"No. Please. No hospitals," Rhys replied firmly, shaking his head vehemently. "I need to go home tonight, Sal. I need to sort out some orders and finish a cake."

"Are you sure you can do it in your current state?" Saliou asked, doubt in his voice. "Alright, fine. I could take you back to your place and help you out with stuff, and then I could stay overnight with you. How about it?" He placed his hands under Rhys' arms firmly, and helped him stand up. 

"Hmm," Rhys muttered as he leaned on Saliou to keep his balance.

Saliou locked eyes with him, raising one brow in question. "Well? Do you want me to stay with you or not?"

No. Yes. Maybe. No. Rhys wasn't sure how to respond to his question. Instead, he reached for Saliou's car keys from one of the glass jars sitting on the island counter and placed them in the palm of the other's hand.

"Come on, let's go."

 

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The first several minutes of the drive were silent. Both Saliou and Rhys were quiet and privately fearful. Both didn't know what to expect from the other.

Saliou was still trying to figure out how to break the silence. When they stopped at an intersection waiting for the green light, Rhys shifted in his seat and looked at him. He was the first to break the silence, a hint of hesitation in his words.

"Sal, we've been together for almost four years now."

Saliou glanced at him a little curiously, letting out a careless chuckle. "Uh, yeah. What about it?"

Rhys gave him an uneasy smile. "You never once asked me about Matthew."

The somehwhat astonished look on Saliou's face told him that this was the last topic he expected Rhys to bring up.

"Well..." Saliou gulped and ran his finger under his shirt collar. "I thought there isn't much to say about the guy. And... it seemed like an old, touchy subject you don't want to talk about. Surely it wasn't anything happy."

Rhys reached to touch the nape of Saliou's neck. "The marriage was a mistake for the both of us. Even more so for Matt."

When the light turned green, Saliou drove again but this time, with one hand on top of Rhys'. "And you? What did you expect the marriage to be?"

"I suppose I expected Matt to just... love me." Rhys shrugged, his voice melancholy. "I've known him for years. We started dating when we were sophies in high school. I used to tell people we started dating when we turned nineteen when really, we've been together since we were sixteen. We dated through college. We dated when he was in graduate school and I started my training in culinary arts. There was no doubt in my mind that we were passionately in love with each other. We married just a couple of months before Matt graduated and got his doctorate. And then, we moved back to Freson – our hometown. It's the first time we'd been able to live together."

As Rhys talked, Saliou kept his eyes on the road, nodding in silence to let the other know he's listening intently. He kept rubbing Rhys' hand comfortingly, kept glancing over him from time to time. He still had no inkling what had made the other talk reminiscently about the past so suddenly. It was a part of him Saliou didn't – but have always wanted – to know. He figured now couldn't be a better time for it. Clearly, something had been troubling Rhys the past few weeks. This must be part of it.

Rhys withdrew his hand from Saliou's neck, then turned his head away to gaze out the rear window.

"Matthew is... He's Omega."

Saliou sucked in a deep breath and bit his lower lip. "Rhys, I..."

"We've been together since forever, you know," Rhys continued. "We couldn't imagine being married to anyone else." He brought his elbow onto the edge of the window and rested his head on his hand, looking outside impassively. "Matt used to tell me all the time he'd never leave me for someone else. Not even for an Alpha. He even said all these things about Fated Pairs being a load of crap."

Saliou gripped the steering wheel tightly to stop the shake in his hands. "He's right. I mean, who would even want to engage in a courtship that's tantamount to sexual attraction and self-gratification?"

He swore he heard Rhys scoff. "You won't believe it until it's happened. And it did – for Matthew."

A heavy silence fell between them.

When they finally reached Rhys' neighborhood, Saliou stopped the car just under a streetlight in front of the apartment building. He decided to prepare himself for what's to come.

He turned off the ignition before turning to Rhys. "Why are you telling me all of this now?" he demanded.

Rhys straightened in his seat and leaned his head against the headrest. "He wanted to have a baby, Sal. We tried for years. But you know how it is, right? With a Beta, it's not gonna' be as easy. But to Matt, it became a necessity. Whether it was his Omega instinct or just a need to make our marriage work for the long term, I never really knew. But it created a rift between us, Sal. As cliché as it may seem, it caused us to drift apart. And then... he met someone at work. An Alpha."

"He cheated on you?"

"Sal," Rhys began again as looked down at his roughed knuckles, "they've been having an affair for six months. Maybe a little longer, I'm not sure. I found out accidentally – how is not important. It was hard to take, but I pretended not to know. I pretended everything was alright, Sal, just so I could save our marriage – all those years we've been together. But it's been so glaringly obvious at this point. Matt wasn't even trying to hide it anymore. He stopped wearing scent blockers. They'd go to motels to fuck and then at night, he'd come back home, and we'd sleep on the same bed as if nothing's happened." Rhys looked at Saliou squarely, eyes full of pain and anguish. "Did he think I'm dumb, Sal? All those nights, I could smell the scent of an Alpha in a rut all over him like fucking body spray."

Saliou put his arms around him, rocking him back and forth, trying to comfort him in the best way he could think of. "Why are you beating yourself up like this, Rhys? Stop it, let's talk about this some other time..."

But his words were lost on Rhys, who continued his painful narrative.

"Eventually, Matt was honest enough to admit it to my face. He said he wanted to end it, so what else could I do? Well, three more months went by. Not so pleasant months, I assure you. And then, I found out he's pregnant. And marked. You know, even then, I was still sort of dumb. I begged him to stay. I said I was willing to treat the child as my own. But he didn't want that, Sal. He wanted to be with his Alpha." And then, he let out an empty laugh. "You know what's funny? He went as far as bringing his new man over to me, both begging me to sign the divorce papers, so they can finally be together. So they can be one happy family. The audacity!"

At this point, Saliou found that he didn't know what to say, so he decided to say nothing. He continued to comfort Rhys, as he needed it. He recalled the hurt he had felt when he broke up with Wren, but he could hardly imagine Rhys' pain. While he had little warning, Rhys had known that his relationship with Matthew was on the rocks for a long time. It was a slow, burning pain.

At this point, Saliou looked into the other's eyes – so blue they were almost like the ocean. They shone and radiated raw emotions. And the longer he looked into those eyes, the more helpless and useless he felt.

"What do you want me to do, Rhys? What do you want me to say? I want to help you, but this... this isn't making any sense."

"Listen to me, Sal..." Rhys ran his hand gently down Saliou's cheek, studying his face intently. "You've never bonded with anyone, but pretty soon you won't be able to resist the urge."

"W-What are you talking about?"

"You know what happens to Omegas who remain unbonded for so long. Right? It's the same as someone who loses their Alpha. It shortens their life. It's like a death sentence, Sal."

"Really, Rhys? Do we really have to tick off some boxes before it can happen – before it can be called a 'bond'?" Saliou said sharply, sounding utterly hurt. "Have you ever heard of bonding with someone you love? You do it to please yourself and that person. It's simple and it's real. Why do you have to make it sound so clinical?"

"That's the way it's supposed to be. Nature dictates it," Rhys contended. "How could I – a mere Beta –compete against that? There's only so much I can do."

Saliou's stomach tightened painfully. Once again, memories from the past were threatening to resurface. Such familiar pain. Familiar regret.

"It's just that there's so much going on up here," Rhys added, tapping the side of his head. "So many questions, too much self-doubt. I mean, why are you even dating me when your Fated Mate is practically knocking at your door? Don't you know how extraordinary that is? Yet you're here, wasting your one-in-a-million chance on someone like me."

"W-Why are you being like this?" Saliou tried to keep his voice level but failed. His lips quivered and his voice trembled, full of the tears he was now trying to hold back. "You know I'm serious about you. About us. And you, of all people, should know I've severed whatever connection I had with Wren a long time ago. Don't you believe me?"

"I-I'm just trying to tell you what you're missing, Sal. I'm Beta," Rhys repeated, more firmly this time. "There's nothing I can do whenever you go through heat. And someday... someday you'll want to have a child of your own. And that's something I can't promise to give you."

"Bullshit." Saliou began to cry, softly at first, then harder. "You're wrong... You're so wrong..." He buried his face in his hands as he continued to sob.

"Wren, on the other hand, has everything you could ever need. He's your Alpha. He has wealth. He can give you a child. He can give you a good life, Sal."

Saliou gave him a spiteful look. "What makes you think I still love him? I don't give a damn what he can provide for me. If he couldn't give me the only thing I need, then he's not the one for me. Simple as that!" He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear his vision of tears, and then looked at Rhys. "Is... Is this your way of breaking up with me? Are you starting to regret what we have?" He gripped Rhys' arms tight and shook him slightly. "What did I do wrong? Are you thinking I'd do the same thing your ex did to you?"

"Hey, don't cry..." Rhys cupped his cheeks and wiped away a few tears with the pad of his thumb. "Who said anything about breaking up? We're not, okay? That's the last thing I want. Besides, that won't solve anything." He gathered Saliou in his arms and kissed the top of his head. He gave himself an extra moment to rein in his feelings before he spoke again. "You know, I've always wondered if I knew my place. I do know my place. I know it well enough to be here beside you now. But... I have absolutely no power over you, and you can just snuff me out at any time. Then again, I'm here because I understand that's how things stand from the get-go. And I'm willing to take the risk." Saliou was somehow pleased with what the other just said, but knew there was a catch to it. "It's just that... I need to wrap my head around some things and... and I figured we both need some time apart to reevaluate our relationship and what we really want out of it."

"Time apart to reevaluate our relationship," Saliou echoed. "You mean a cool-off? How much time will it take? How much more time do you need? Because I know exactly what I want out of our relationship, Rhys."

"There will always be loose ends to tie up, babe," Rhys said, cryptically. He planted a fleeting kiss on Saliou's lips before he moved to open the car door.

"W-Wait, you're going?" Saliou questioned as he wiped away a final tear stealing down his cheek. "Can't I stay the night with you?"

Rhys slowly stepped out of the car and gave the other an apologetic smile. "I'll be fine, babe. I promise."

"Can I at least call you? You know, in case you need my help, injured as you are..."

Rhys let out an audible sigh. "Sal..."

"Fine," Saliou muttered, failing to hide his disappointment. He realized there was nothing else he could do to make Rhys change his mind. He figured he'd give the other a day or two, or however much time he needed. "Call me when you're sure. I won't call you. The next move has to be yours. Okay?" He started the car again.

It looked like Rhys was going to say something, but then just smiled faintly and nodded, apparently at a loss for words.

"I'll wait for your call."

"I will. Thanks for dropping me off. Get home safe, okay?" Rhys closed the car door and turned to walk to his apartment, but he looked over his shoulder and smiled again. "Good night."

Saliou waited for Rhys to get into his apartment before he drove away, embarking on a lonely drive home that gave him too much time to think about what had just happened.

All of a sudden, his future with Rhys was riddled with uncertainty.

 

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Did Rhys actually think I'd turn out just like his dumb ex-husband?

Saliou had been pondering on this for what seemed like eternity. Sure, Rhys had every right to be wary of becoming involved with another Omega, and for a damn good reason. He'd been trying to prevent himself from going through the same pain again, but his previous relationship proved to have left him a little too edgy.

Now, Saliou can't get past the fact that he resents his man's old flame. What does Rhys take him for? He couldn't believe Rhys would actually think he'd run off and leave if things suddenly got a little inconvenient.

When Rhys asked to put a distance between them, such musings suddenly became too hard to contemplate. He half-expected Rhys to call him a week after at most, but two weeks had already passed without a word from him. How could Rhys manage not to talk to me for so long? Doesn't he even miss me a little bit?  These thoughts have plagued Saliou's mind for days.

He tried not to dwell on it. Tried to keep himself preoccupied with as much work as he could handle. But he'd gone from not thinking about Rhys in that way to not being able to stop thinking about him in just a matter of days.

Saliou stared blankly at his phone as he quietly sipped his tea, hoping that this would finally be the day he'd see Rhys' name light up his screen.

"Uncle Sal?" chirped Florence Dahlia, who sat across from him at a small table, helping herself to a plate of blueberry waffles and a fruit smoothie. "Can I have some of your chocolate chip cookie, please?"

The sound of her voice brought Saliou back from his thoughts. He beamed at the little girl and lightly poked her cheek. "Of course, love," he replied, placing his half-eaten cookie on Flo's plate. "Do you want me to go get some more?"

Flo stared down at her plate and shook her head. Somehow, there was something different about the little girl's aura that day. She wasn't her usual, energetic self and Saliou worried she might have come down with something.

It was a rather lazy Saturday morning, and this was one of those times Saliou could spend some quality moment with his niece. They decided to get breakfast at Saliou's favorite café in hometown Amridge, instead of traveling to the Glapshire Amusement Park as originally planned, because Flo chose to stay at her grandparents' house until Sunday evening.

Saliou eyed Flo concernedly. She would take smile bites of her waffle, but would proceed to absently poke at it with her fork, as if her thoughts were elsewhere. She would take a deep breath from time to time, and Saliou watched as her chest rose and fell. They would catch each other's gaze, but then Flo would immediately avoid her uncle's eyes and shift her attention back on her plate.

"Are you okay, love?" Saliou asked, breaking the silence that began to stretch between them.

Flo nodded curtly, still seeming less than interested in what was on her plate. It's difficult to tell when a child feels guilty or anxious over something, but it looked as though Flo wanted to get something off her chest.

What could make a seven-year-old appear worried and anxious? Saliou asked himself. There could only be one thing.

Saliou reached for Flo's hand across the table, then pressed it lightly. "Everything okay at home, Flo? How's your Dad? Doing well?"

Flo gave another wordless nod as she took a sip of her smoothie.

Something's definitely happened and Saliou was determined to find out what was troubling the child. But before he could speak again, Flo put her plastic cup down and gave him an inquiring look.

"When can we go to see Uncle Rhys? I miss him. He said he's going to make unicorn cupcakes this time."

Saliou felt his heart leap to his throat for a moment. "But you've seen each other a few weeks ago, haven't you? Besides, you need to cut back on sweets. Otherwise, your Dad will give me a serious scolding."

"But Uncle... we would go to his bakery every first Saturday of the month, as you promised," Flo reminded him firmly, lips pouting in frustration. "Today is the first Saturday of October."

Saliou pressed the little girl's hand lightly once more, before letting it go. "I'm afraid we won't be seeing him for a while, love." There was a note of sadness in his voice, and Flo couldn't help but look up at him, eyes shining strangely as if she were in the verge of tears.

A vague feeling of panic settled in Saliou's chest. Are things really that bad at home?

He went around the table to kneel beside Flo's chair. "What's wrong, Flo?" He reached over to tuck the wavy soft-brown strands of Flo's hair behind her ear. "Remember what I said? I'm always here for you, so you can tell me anything."

Face falling, Flo squashed the half-eaten cookie on her plate, staring at it as if it were the most important thing in the world. "Is... Is Uncle Rhys in the hospital? Is that why I can't go to see him?"

"No, but..." Saliou's forehead creased into a frown of confusion. He felt it was a strange question coming from his niece and wondered if it was just a bizarre coincidence, considering Rhys got himself into a serious fight. "What makes you think so, love? Did you happen to see him somewhere?"

Flo looked up once more, eyes huge and wet. "He's hurt, Uncle," she muttered, voice quivering. "He's badly hurt. I – I saw it."

Saliou's stomach twisted. "How, Flo? When?" he asked, voice sounding grave and ominous.

Flo gripped her fork tightly as she hesitated to answer, yet she knew her uncle wouldn't let her off the hook so easily. She cleared her throat and with a low and shaky voice said, "I... I went to ask Daddy to buy me cupcakes. And... we went to Uncle Rhys' bakery to buy them and –" she paused a moment, trying to keep her voice from cracking, " – and Daddy was angry and... so was Uncle Rhys..."

Saliou's shoulders tensed and his jaw tightened as he worked to control the shock and mounting anger he felt. "What do you mean? Did they fight?" He rose slowly to his feet, fists clenched tight.

As Flo stared at him, her shoulders began to shake. "Are you mad at me, Uncle Sal? Please don't be..." Soft sobs racked her body, muffled enough for only Saliou to hear.

"No, of course I'm not mad at you," Saliou said softly as he laid a reassuring hand on the little girl's shoulder.

"They're friends, aren't they? But why did they fight? Are they ever going to make up?" Flo asked as she wrapped her small arms around Saliou's waist. "Is it because of me? Does Daddy hate Uncle Rhys, after all?"

Saliou gritted his teeth and willed his body to remain calm. He was livid and thought he was entitled to feel that way. He hated that a child as young as Florence, who probably hadn't seen anything more violent than a cat-and-dog fight, had to suddenly witness two grown men fight like testosterone-filled schoolboys. He hated that Flo had to blame and punish herself for something that's never her fault.

But most of all, he hated that he knew there could only be one reason Wren and Rhys would fight.

It took some time for Saliou to calm down Flo. By the time she dried her red and puffy eyes, her cake had already gone dry and cold, and her smoothie had melted. During this time, Saliou had also managed to take his anger down a notch. He had to, so long as Flo was still with him.

He will calm down when it's time to calm down. Now is a time to be angry, and he had every intention of staying so until he's ready not to be angry anymore. And the only time that would happen is when he gets to confront Wren Dumont and give him a piece of his mind. 

 

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This was supposed to be their time - the precious few hours when Saliou shouldn't be thinking about anything else except spending a fun time with his niece. But after what he discovered, he could barely focus on Flo and what they were supposed to do that day.

At around 2 PM, after taking Flo to a playhouse and buying her new clothes at the city mall, Saliou decided to cut their weekend bonding short. Flo must have sensed his uneasiness because unlike her usual habit of throwing tantrums before they part, she agreed to be dropped off at her grandparents' place without so much as a fuss. That pretty much worked in Saliou's favor because he decided once and for all to end the day with a solution to his nagging problem. 

After dropping off Flo, Saliou headed back southbound to Glapshire, thinking he should return home and give Rhys a call, contrary to what he had promised the other. He figured he had already given Rhys more than enough time to reflect on things. Besides, he had a lot of explaining to do.

But Saliou could barely concentrate on the road, as his mind kept flying through all the possibilities of what might have transpired between his current and former flame. Permutation through permutation flew through his mind. Maybe Rhys provoked Wren so that they had a confrontation that turned into a violent fistfight. Or maybe Wren had gone to the bakery, fully intending to pick a fight.

Saliou was willing to bet on the latter. Given Wren's current demeanor, it was very easy for him to pick an argument with Rhys and then use it as an excuse to raise his hand against him. How could he even suspect his lover of starting a fight, anyway? He would gain nothing from it. If anything, Wren had tested Rhys' patience too far and did not expect he'd actually fight back.

It was only when Saliou had viewed it from every possible standpoint that he finally made up his mind. His decision didn't help his nerves, but the newfound determination gave him the courage he'd need to face the problem at hand.

Rhys was right all along. 'There will always be loose ends to tie up', he said, and Saliou was wrong to assume that particular end had been tied up nicely some time ago.

Taking a deep breath and gripping the steering wheel tightly with both hands, Saliou decided to turn the car around and head back the way he came, entering an expressway that would bring him straight to Idomouth.

By the time he was on his way to the neighboring state, his mind was already in chaos, he'd forgotten to wear a scent blocker.

 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

 

Wren had never asked Florence to keep the fight between him and Rhys a secret from Saliou. On the contrary, he wanted his daughter to tell her uncle. He wanted Saliou to come to him. Talk to him. See him. At this point, he'd gladly take whatever opportunity comes his way just so he could see his Omega.

Had he been underhanded? He didn't think so. If he'd done something awful, he'd feel it – but he felt nothing except perhaps, desperation. Yes, that's right – he'd finally reached that pedestal. 

Yet it's been weeks since his altercation with that high-and-mighty Beta and still no word from Saliou. Wren didn't think he'd stoop any lower than he already did. He didn't expect Flo would be able to hold out that long. Well, that was one thing among two unexpected things. The second happened that day, just when he was ready to make his next desperate move.

From the living room, he could see a familiar-looking vehicle pull into his driveway. He felt relieved and a little elated at this. Finally, the person he'd been wanting to see had arrived at his doorstep.

Saliou's face was veiled with a shadow as he got out of the car, slammed the door, and walked to the entrance with heavy footsteps. Wren hurried ahead and threw open the front door for Saliou, greeting the other with a warm smile.

Saliou looked at him and returned his smile with a gaze that's as cold as ice. He was just heading up to the door but stopped midway at the sight of Wren, trying to keep a safe distance. He allowed some of the anger he was feeling to flow to his face. He figured he had to play it perfectly from here on in.

"Sal, I've been waiting for you. What took you so long?" Wren mused, his voice unexpectedly light.

For a moment, Saliou gave the other a look of shock and pity. Wren's clear, glimmering eyes were overshadowed by the cuts and bruises on his face. They seemed to be healing nicely, leaving only a slight trace of the brutality that was inflicted on him weeks ago.

"Wren, I didn't come here to chit-chat," Saliou said strictly as he slowly took a few steps forward. Once again, his face was filled with anger and distrust.

It occurred to Wren that he'd been seeing that expression on Saliou's handsome face more often lately. It's funny because he's beginning to love it, too. "Of course," he replied, ignoring the other's icy demeanor. "Let's discuss this over a cup of coffee, shall we?" He stepped aside and gestured to the door to let Saliou in.

Saliou didn't move but kept his eyes on Wren, his gaze inscrutable "No," he replied as he rubbed his arm uneasily. "I won't be long. I'd like you to hear me out on a few things."

Wren stared intently, arms folded as he leaned against the wall by the door. "Please come in. I insist."

Saliou dropped his gaze, visibly anxious and uneasy. "Listen, Wren, it's better if we just – "

"Alright, then. If you don't want to come in, then we're done here," Wren cut him off as he turned back into the house.

"Wait!" Saliou called out as he held on to the door to stop Wren from closing it.

He wanted to burst into tears, wanted to lash out, wanted to hit this man before him. Yet the sight of his injured face made Saliou draw back. Being around Wren made him feel vulnerable and brought up feelings of hopelessness. He thought he'd already pulled out all the stops, yet it still wasn't enough.

Saliou had learned a hard lesson and realized nothing would come out of spewing angry words that would only add fuel to the fire. So no matter how angry he'd felt, he grappled his emotions and decided to deal with the matter as calmly as he could.

"Alright, then. But I won't be long."

Wren let go of the doorknob, turning back to Saliou with a slight smile. "Please come in, then."

Saliou decided to give Wren one last chance to explain himself in the most logical and sensible manner. This might not be the best place and certainly not the best situation to talk to him alone, but he was left with no other choice.

After a moment's hesitation, Saliou took a last look around before entering the house.

 

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Wren gestured for Saliou to sit on the living room couch, and he gingerly lowered himself to the cushion, keeping his guard up while bracing himself for what would happen next. 

"What can I get for you, Sal? Do you want me to brew us some coffee? I have Arabica in the pantry. I know you love them."

Saliou crossed his arms protectively against his chest, then shook his head. "No, I just had a cup with my lunch."

"And Flo?" Wren sat opposite him, eyes devouring him.

"How thoughtful of you to ask," Saliou remarked sarcastically. "I dropped her off at my parents' for the time being."

"I see, I see," Wren said dryly as he breathed a sigh. "Are you sure you don't want me to get you anything? Coffee, water... "

Saliou exhaled sharply through his nose, interrupting the other. "Let me get straight to the point here, Wren. First off, I can't believe you allowed your own daughter to suffer needlessly by letting her witness violence. You and Rhys are both stupid and ignorant. And you should know better. You're her father, Wren!" He waited for Wren to respond. He didn't, so he continued, "You said something that provoked Rhys. I know the guy, he'd never start a fight unless he's provoked, and even then, he'd turn the other cheek."

Wren replied with a scoff. "Come on, you speak too highly of him. He's not as perfect as you think he is."

"I never said he's perfect. But I'm sure as hell he's not a violent man," Saliou argued.

Wren crossed his legs and clasped his hands over his knee, giving the other an intense gaze. "Is that why you're here? To tell me I'm the violent one? Or are you here because he broke up with you? Jesus, can't you see it yet? Just a little adversity and he gave up on you just like that."

"We did not break up," Saliou corrected him hastily, sternly. "Rhys would never break up with me for something so superficial. Our relationship is much stronger than you think, and it doesn't rely on role-playing."

Wren's lips curled slightly in distaste. "Is that how you see our bond? A form of roleplay?"

"There's no 'bond' to speak of, Wren. You know that." Saliou sighed heavily as he dropped his gaze, raking his fingers through his hair. "This is just beyond you. You had to do your best at every possible opportunity, to make me feel that the only way I'd ever experience happiness would be with you. But you're wrong."

"What's so wrong about that?" Wren contended, brows furrowed, eyes filled with bewilderment. 

Saliou shook his head in disappointment. Clearly, Wren didn't understand what he'd meant, or just refused to understand his logic.

"It's plain as day once you think about it," Wren continued. "You and I are meant to be together, Saliou. We're Fated Mates, aren't we? Even if you continue to deny it, just think about all those years we've spent together, all those moments we've shared... Are you seriously going to put all of it to waste?"

"This is the same old game we're playing here, Wren," Saliou muttered, disappointment tangible in his voice. "Same old argument, same old guilt-tripping. I'm sick and tired of it. And I'm sad, Wren. I'm sad because you know the truth, but you choose not to accept and reject it."

"If your so-called 'truth' doesn't make me feel better in any way, then it's useless," Wren said through gritted teeth.

"Your problem is that you expect too much!" Saliou exclaimed. Angry tears threatened to escape, but he held them in for as long as he could, afraid that once he began to cry, he'd never stop. "All these years you kept waiting for something that will never return. But it's over, Wren. We're not going to talk, make amends, make love, make up. We're done!" He steeled himself before saying the next words. "I don't love you anymore. I'm not in love with you and I'm not going to fall back in love with you. So please... stop trying. I'm with Rhys now, and I wouldn't have missed out on him for the world."

Saliou's words were harsh and crisp; strangled with hurt, frustration, and brutal honesty. All of a sudden, the calm and cool façade Wren always had around the other, shattered. The words that came out of Saliou's mouth were like blows from a whip and he could not afford to ignore the pain slashing at his heart.

This, here, is the point of no return. Wren had lost control over the situation, yet here he was, still refusing to accept it.

There was a silence between them for a moment, a heavy one that didn't sit well with either one of them. It made Saliou uncomfortable and the longer it stretched, the more difficult it would be to break it.

"Ah! I know now." Wren broke the silence, clapping his hands together which made Saliou jolt in surprise. "Wine, then. I have a fine aged bottle downstairs. I've been saving it for a special occasion. Let me go get us some glasses, too."

Saliou clicked his tongue against his teeth, more exasperated now. "Didn't you hear a word I said?" he groaned as Wren stood up from the couch and made his way down the stairs leading to his newly converted bachelor pad.

Wren paused to look at the other before descending the stairs. "I heard you. I heard you loud and clear," he said, voice dry and devoid of emotions. His face was cold as he stared hard at Saliou with an intense and emotionless gaze. Saliou felt it burn into him and he wasn't sure why it made him feel unpleasant.

And then, Wren's expression quickly changed into a smile. "There's no harm in sharing a glass of wine with an old friend, is there? Come on. One for the road."

Saliou was confused by the sudden change of topic, and more so by Wren's change in demeanor. Even so, he nodded meekly.

Was he finally able to get through to Wren? Are they finally going to get some closure? Did he finally manage to tie up loose ends? If this is the last time he's going to have this talk with Wren, then surely there's no harm in sharing a glass or two. Afterwards, he could leave without further fuss or ceremony.

"I... I can't see why not," Saliou relented as Wren disappeared downstairs. 

 

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Wren returned a moment later with a decanter of red wine and two glasses.

"Brunello di Montalcino, 1999," Wren said, pouring Saliou a glass. "One of Italy's best. It's rich and gets better with age."

Saliou smiled weakly as he twirled the wine glass by the stem, watching the dark red liquid coat the sides before slinking back down.

Wren grinned as he set the decanter and his empty glass on the coffee table. "I'll go get us some ice cubes."

"No need. I'd much prefer mine without ice," Saliou said, still staring down at his glass.

But Wren had already gone to the end of the room and walked into the kitchen. "I've already decanted it this morning, so it'll taste extra fruity."

Saliou was certain Wren was saying something from the kitchen, but his words were lost to him as his attention shifted to the tiny, white, powdery substance floating around the bottom of his drink. He gave his glass a couple more swirls to dissolve it, thinking it was yeast or some other residue that had settled on the wine after being aged for decades. He let his nose hover over the glass to draw in the smell, and then took a mouthful of the rich, red liquid.

Saliou let out a low gasp as he stared down at the glass. "Oh my god, it really is good," he remarked to himself. The dense, fruity taste rose up gracefully to envelop his brain.

"Isn't it?" Wren returned from the kitchen with a crystal bucket of ice. He set it on the table before sinking back down on the couch and pouring himself a glass of the fine liquid. He then held it forward, and Saliou clinked it.

"I've no idea what we're toasting," Saliou said as he took another long drink, almost emptying his glass.

"To new beginnings, I suppose," Wren replied as he set his glass down on the table without taking a sip. "You know... I was thinking maybe all hope isn't lost yet."

Saliou's gut tightened as he watched Wren carefully over the rim of his glass. A bead of sweat broke out over his lip, his body tensing up as Wren's expression darkened. "What do you mean?" he questioned slowly as he put his glass down on the table.

Slouching low in the couch, Wren crossed his legs and stretched his arms across the top of the couch. "No matter how much you deny it, Sal, you're mine and I'm yours. Nature decides it."

"You... You're still full of shit," Saliou hissed, unable to hide his resentment. "Why did I even think you'd change, Wren? You're hopeless."

"Alright. Suppose you don't love me anymore," Wren said as he closed his eyes briefly and rubbed his nose in frustration. "That's something we can still change, right? We could have a child together, Sal."

Saliou bolted from the couch, fists clenched tightly as he glowered at Wren. "You're fucking delusional. I shouldn't have come here. I'm so done with you!"

"You know what they say. Love springs when you have a child together. Perhaps with that, you'll eventually learn to love me again. Besides, I know you're willing to make sacrifices, Sal. You endured a great deal of pain in the past, just so you could make Milou happy. How can this be any different –"

"Wren Dumont, you better shut your mouth now!"

"I know you'll be more than willing to make a small sacrifice once we have a child, Sal. You'll do everything to make them happy. That's a sacrifice you'd be willing to take, right?" Wren stood up as Saliou turned and stomped toward the front door. "Saliou, come on! That Beta can never live up to your expectations!"

Wren grabbed Saliou's arm, but he quickly wrenched it away. "Never live up to my expectations?" He laughed mockingly. "I need a partner in life, Wren, not a fucking slave who's drunk on blind obsession. You disgust me!"

Wren placed his hand on the door so Saliou wouldn't open it. "You'll never meet anyone more faithful, Saliou. Think about what you're losing here."

Saliou's eyes were moist with tears as he narrowed his livid gaze and glared at the other. "I'm not about to lose anything, Wren, but I'm sure as hell you've lost your damn mind. Now get out of my way and let me go!"

Pure revulsion crossed Saliou's expression, but it wasn't nearly enough to make the other waver. In fact, Wren pressed both hands flat against the door on either side of Saliou's head, his fingers splayed. Wren was coming in so close so that their faces were now only inches apart, his lips close to Saliou's as if he meant to collect payment for a game he's not yet lost.

"Wren, stop it..." Saliou said shakily, almost pleadingly. He slowly moved his head to the side, his whole body tense and trembling slightly.

Wren reached out and drew Saliou's chin up so he could look into his eyes. The same eyes that were once so full of love and heated passion, but were now prominently dull and empty, like a void that's lost its sheen.

"Didn't you hear what I said?" Wren's voice was just as cold and piercing as his gaze. "I said you'll never find anyone as faithful. What's so hard to understand about that?"

As fast as lightning flashes in a storm cloud, Saliou's rage flared, burning away his fear. He drew his head back and spat in Wren's face. "Faithful, you say? You're just confusing love with your Alpha instincts! It's carnal, it's innate, and you've lost control of it!"  He pushed Wren away with a strength he didn't know he possessed; tears spilling over uncontrollably as his eyes darkened. "You're not being faithful to me, Wren, you're being faithful to your nature!"

And then... a sharp jolt struck Saliou, sending almost painful sensations down his body. His knees wobbled as a trill shot through him, causing his heart to pound faster. He leaned back and pushed himself up against the door in a struggle to keep his balance.

Wren looked at Saliou in surprise, and then smiled as realization dawned on him. "Do you feel it now?" he asked, his voice rough, his gaze intense. "The connection between us?"

Saliou sucked in a breath as he clutched his shirt against his chest, his posture rigid. A second painful jolt hit him, and the room around him turned hazy. A loud, ringing sound rushed in his ears as he dropped to his knees. For all Saliou's courage, this sensation was terrifying, yet it was all too familiar. He always wanted to be in control of things, but now he's losing control of his own body.

What's happening? What's this? It can't be... It's too soon...

Saliou's hands started shaking uncontrollably. He crossed his arms defensively, pinching his hands in his armpits, but the tremor continued to spread to his entire body. Nothing was fine. Nothing. His body was on fire – burning from the inside out. It was almost as if...

"... You're in heat," muttered Wren as he bent over Saliou, smiling with satisfaction. "You are, aren't you, my love?"

Anger and confusion flared in Saliou's stare. "Wren..." he muttered, shaking his head to clear his vision. "W-What's going on? What did you do?" He fumbled in his pocket, trying to reach for his phone, his hands shaking so much that he dropped it. He watched it bounce once, twice, on the floor, landing a few inches from where he was.

"Leave it where it is," Wren commanded, his voice thicker and stronger than Saliou ever recalled it. Wren closed his eyes as his nostrils flared, taking in the thickening scent of pheromones blossoming around him. A smile slipped onto his face. "God, I missed this. I missed this so much, Sal." He then leaned his head down to Saliou's neck and inhaled the sweet, honeyed scent of his rising heat.

Saliou was too petrified to react to the Alpha's advances. Wren's aura seemed to crash against him, dominating him, making him feel... desired. He could sense Wren's lust and it burned like a flame. And each time he tried to pull away, Wren would just grab him back.

Wren wanted him. Desperately.

"Y-You... You put something in my drink. Wren, how could you...!"

Wren took Saliou's hand and, kissing his palm, sent a slow ripple sliding from his fingers to his throat.

"I don't know why you're fighting your own desires, Sal. It pains me to watch you like this. Just surrender yourself to it..."

Saliou opened his mouth, but no words came out. He bit his lip instead, trying to keep a needy groan from escaping. His heart was beating even faster now, and the way Wren was looking at him was stirring his carnal urges to life, the tightening and aching need slowly trailing down in his groin.

He was terrified. Terrified with his own instincts. Terrified Wren would see just how much a part of him wanted to yield. How much he wanted to beg.

Never.

But he had a heat inside him that could only be soothed by an Alpha's touch. Wren Dumont had the kind of powerful fire that he so easily set off inside him. It's despicable.

Saliou felt stupid to have fallen into his trap. The thought of wearing a scent blocker had not even crossed his mind. And now, Wren began to emit a strong scent that intermingled with his own. His fragrance was heady, invading Saliou's nostrils like forbidden fruit, engineered for an irresistible sweetness.

Wren shifted his grip from Saliou's hand to reach up and cup his jaw, his touch strong and revoltingly enthralling. He was pleased to see the desire slowly burning in Saliou's eyes. "Faithful to my instinct? In that case, it won't be so different for an Omega in heat either," he said to the other, leaning forward, eyes flashing. "We're on the same boat here, honey, so why don't we just follow our instincts?" He tilted his head as he offered his lips to the other.

Wren's kiss rocked Saliou to the core, his firm lips claiming his. He felt the man's muscular body pressing tight against him, felt the press of his burning erection.

"How... How did we end up like this, Wren?" Saliou whispered, allowing his tears to fall without shame. "Fate has been so cruel... Cruel to the both of us."

"I don't know, Sal. And I don't care. Can't we just give in? It's pointless to keep resisting."

Saliou's thoughts slowly dissolved into darkness as Wren deepened the kiss. And when his tongue pushed past Saliou's lips, he opened his mouth just as greedily. Tears began to fall once more as he closed his eyes, his body gradually relaxing.

Slowly, ever so carefully, Wren placed his arms around Saliou, lifted him to his feet, and carried him upstairs to his bedroom. Saliou had been sobbing quietly the whole time, his anguish drowned out as Wren kissed him all over, holding him tight, kept whispering how sorry he was.

Saliou felt numb as he looked at Wren Dumont – the person he once looked up to and loved with all his heart, now threatening to violate him.

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⚠️ WARNING ⚠️

The next scene contains sensitive / potentially triggering material such as sexual assault and dubious consent. I will publish it separately, so please skip [Part 4.5] if you find this type of content disturbing or unsettling.