It wasn’t just being physically pulled around by Dylan’s father — although that did ruffle my fur up the wrong way. The old man was so over-familiar that he didn’t even seem to realize he’d been disrespectful, and he was friendly enough that I felt guilty for being offended by it. Clearly, Roderick was trying to be friends. I owed him the courtesy of trying to be friends back. Besides, we were going to have to get along if Dylan and I were going to be… well. Anything.

After a tense and uncomfortable dinner, ‘anything’ was just about broad enough.

We had spent most of the day outside with the pups, as he suggested. It might have calmed me down to be in my furs, but even that felt like I’d be exposing a vulnerability that this new pack hadn’t earned yet. We weren’t allies, beyond the fact that I’d gotten so close to one of their omegas.

Behind all that, and far more powerful, hid the ghost of lunitis. No matter how many deep breaths I took outside in Laura’s sweet-smelling garden, or what distance I kept from the pack of wild kids snapping at each other’s heels as they ran in fur together, I felt the weight of my immoral choice on my shoulders. I didn’t know whether I could infect them just by being there.

That uncertainty alone meant I didn’t deserve any of the kindness they’d shown me.

Dylan included.

The memory of speaking to him in such a curt manner wasn’t a pleasant one. It hurt me to picture the look on his face when he looked at me, searching for some hint that I was joking. Worried that he’d upset me. That wasn’t the kind of person I wanted to be. I never wanted my omega afraid of me, or afraid of upsetting me.

That was exactly the kind of bullshit I had hoped to avoid by steering clear of relationships all these years. Dylan didn’t deserve to be made to feel like that, especially not by some asshole like me. He was a great guy. He had the sweetest heart I’d seen in years, and he was doing an amazing job of raising his daughter all by himself. He motivated himself into work every day, despite the deep pain he felt at the loss of his old alpha. He was good.

Me, on the other hand? I accepted an invitation to his family home despite being uncertain about whether that was safe for his pack, and then snapped at him when I got there.

Even knowing all this, I couldn’t help feeling a kernel of irritation as I remembered the evening. When I woke up in the mornings, I just wanted to bury my head under the blankets and go back to sleep. The idea of seeing Dylan again, and having to deal with how that third date had gone, would require much more energy than I could muster.

So I ignored his texts.

I wasn’t proud of it. Every time I heard the notification sound coming from my pocket, I assumed it was another message from him. In truth, plenty of them were from friends and prospective clients. Dylan was too considerate to send a barrage — but I knew he’d be worrying about the lack of response.

It was cruel, but what the hell could I say?

If I came clean about my pack’s lunitis, he’d be rightly angry at me. For one thing, I’d lied by omission by leaving that detail out of my story, in a conversation that was otherwise very honest and open. For another, I’d potentially risked his family’s health. He might never want to see me again, but the alternative wasn’t good either. That’d only be more lying, and maybe he’d hear in my voice that there was a space between the explanation I’d given him and the full, unabridged truth. If he didn’t, then it’d only be more ammunition to hate me with in the future, if he ever learned the truth.

I didn’t let myself hope that he might never find out. For one thing, it was foolish. Wolves talked, and the secret could come out of anywhere.

More importantly, he just didn’t deserve that. Like I’d already plagued myself by thinking, Dylan had earned the right to a partner who treated him like a king.

Maybe I just wasn’t that alpha. A couple of weeks ago, that wouldn’t have been a surprise. In fact, I’d have assumed it. So why did it feel so raw to consider it now?

My mood had been so predictably stormy that Mark and Oscar refused to let me take walk-ins, instead relegating me to the reception desk. I could schedule appointments, and handle any clients that booked me specifically, but more often than not they had me sitting in contemplative silence at the desk.

“One black coffee,” said Mark, stopping by the desk with a takeout cup. “I was going to buy your lunch, but they only had rabbit salad, and… I figured you wouldn’t want it in the same bag as my bacon.”

“I appreciate it. Thanks.”

He gave me a weak smile, tapping the desk before heading off. He’d never been particularly good with emotions. Frankly, none of us were. Growing out of such trauma had cut us off from many healthy ways of expressing ourselves. It wasn’t like I had my own Laura to talk me through my problems.

I shouldn’t think about Laura. Last night, I’d been plagued with a nightmare about returning to Dylan’s family home to see them all struck down with lunitis — suffering the ugly indignity of the way it wasted bodies away. Stole their independence. Made children out of adults, and quickly filled graves out of children. I’d woken in a sweat, the image of Dylan’s kind and capable mother disintegrating into dysentery and distress right in front of my eyes.

My fault.

“I can pick you up something on my way out, boss,” called Oscar, clearing up his area after his last client. “I’ll be heading past one of your herbivore places.”

“Thanks, Oscar. Not that hungry.”

I pushed the coffee away, trying to rid myself of the horrific mental images. My mind was beginning to try and sort them into three categories — which were real, which were invented, and which were some hideous mutation that lay somewhere in-between. Those thoughts were running away with me, no matter how hard I tried to pull back and think of something else. I wasn’t convinced I could keep Mark’s kind offering down even if I wanted to.

When I heard the bell announce a customer, I was grateful for the distraction. That didn’t last long when I recognized the man stepping through the door, scent first.

I looked up and saw him — the no-sleep look in his eyes, and the uncomfortable tension in his lips. He was afraid of making me feel bad again. This is what I was doing to him.

“Hey,” I said, folding my hands together. “It’s you.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t want to bother you at work.”

“You’re not bothering me,” I said, waving him off. Soon, I thought better of it, and stood up from behind the desk. “Mark, will you watch the front?”

“Sure thing.”

I nodded over my shoulder. “Come through, Dylan. We can talk through here.”

For once, nobody made any playful remarks about my pretty little omega, or whistled their approval, or… anything, really. Whether they’d sensed the source of my low mood or just didn’t want to contribute to it, I was grateful for the break. I held the back room door open for Dylan, and waited for him to come on through. He was wringing his hands.

“I’m sorry I texted so much,” he said, as soon as the door was closed. “And I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you to answer. It’s just… it’s been a week, and-”

“It’s cool,” I said. “Please. Don’t.”

He nodded, lips clamping together, and I realized I’d said the wrong thing.

“No, I… Look, don’t listen to me. I’m an asshole. I should’ve texted you back, and I was a jerk at your parents’ house, and… I’ve just got a lot going on, okay? This isn’t about you.”

“I invited you,” he insisted. “I shouldn’t have. It was too soon.”

“It’s not about that.” I gestured to the chair, slumping down into the one opposite, and avoided making eye contact. “Seriously, it’s not you. Don’t apologize.”

“Ah...”

“Don’t apologize for apologizing, either.”

We each managed a faint smile, even if it was hard to meet eyes for longer than a couple of beats. We’d both noticed, I guessed, that the illusion of perfection between us had shattered. Those first couple of weeks seemed perfect, but perfect couldn’t last forever. Nothing real worked like that. In fact, if it appeared to, it was probably dangerous.

“Listen. I just need a little time, okay?”

Dylan nodded. I could see new tension in his jaw as he clenched it shut, arms and legs much too still. Whatever he was feeling, he didn’t want to show it. “Uh-huh.”

“I’m not saying this is it,” I clarified. “I know people do that. I’m not trying to… you know. I’d be honest with you. I just need to think.”

“I understand.”

I wasn’t sure he did. Dylan sounded like some kind of allergic reaction was just beginning to twinge at his throat, closing him off. Making it harder to speak.

“I told you before that I don’t date much,” I said, feeling duty-bound to keep explaining, even if he didn’t seem to want me to. “I really don’t. I don’t do this. Going to your parents’ house and seeing your family, and… hanging out with your daughter...” I trailed off, tugging a hand through my hair. “She’s great, by the way. They’re all great. I just need to think seriously about what I’m doing. Need to make sure it’s right.”

“I hear you,” he said. He was looking down at his lap — more specifically, I guessed, at the ring finger of either hand. “That makes sense.”

“I mean. You have a kid. I can’t just… walk into and out of your life. I have to be sure. I have to know my priorities.”

“I get it,” said Dylan. There was a sharpness to his voice I hadn’t heard before. When he looked up, I didn’t see anger in his eyes. Just hurt. Whichever it was, it made him pointed and hard. “Well. I really want to see you. I know what my priorities are. Did when I, um… agreed to see you. And said a couple of different things to you...” He trailed off, shaking his head down at the floor, and stood up from the chair. “Anyway. I understand. Just. Call me when you know, I guess.”

“I will.”

I wanted to tell him to stay, or that it’d be okay. I knew I should’ve apologized, too, but he didn’t want to hear any of that from me right now. He was mad at me, and I deserved that. I was effectively telling him that I was messing him around so that I didn’t end up messing him around. Like I’d decided earlier, being a coward and neglecting to tell him about the lunitis side of the story left behind a pretty shitty explanation.

Maybe he didn’t buy it. Maybe he’d give up on me. As I walked him out of the store, hearing only the briefest and shortest of goodbyes, I was forced to wonder whether he already had.

Feeling morose, I exhaled heavily and unlocked my phone, already searching for lunitis testing centers in the Seattle area. My hands had an embarrassing tremor even just thinking about it, but whether he hated me in the end or not, the least I could do was arm myself with the truth. Both of us deserved that much.