Brogan Dale inhaled the rich, familiar aroma of coffee as he unwrapped his thick scarf inside the front door of Perks, his favorite local coffee shop. It was only the first month of winter, but the weather had been brutally cold already, and Brogan was not a fan. Fortunately, one of his beta guardians was a professional knitter, and he’d given this scarf and a pair of ear warmers to Brogan for his last birthday.

He plucked the ear warmers off and stuffed them into his coat pocket, then scanned the dozen tables in the place. Brogan didn’t see his friends yet, so he ordered his favorite tea and a sugar cookie. Mateo, the owner, chatted him up while he waited. The man was an alpha and kind to everyone who patronized his shop—except alphaholes. Mateo had no issue with tossing rude alphas out of the place, like he’d done almost ten months ago when one got in Brogan’s friend Jaysan’s face.

Speaking of Jaysan, he and his mate Morris were supposed to be meeting Brogan right now and they weren’t usually late. Brogan picked a free table to wait, and after five minutes, considered texting Jaysan to make sure he was all right.

The bell over the door dinged, and two familiar faces entered the shop. Okay, so Morris Danvers entered. Morris’s mate Jaysan sort of waddled inside. Eight months pregnant, he was kind of huge. Way bigger than Brogan remembered him being during his first pregnancy two years ago, and his OB had assured him he wasn’t having twins. Multiples were crazy-rare anyway, and Brogan had never met a pair in his lifetime.

Brogan stood so he could hug them both once they’d shed their coats and scarves. Jaysan sank into a chair with a groan. “Oh, fuck, my feet hurt,” Jaysan groused. “I’m never getting out of this chair.”

Morris gave his mate an indulgent smile. “Say that in fifteen minutes when you have to pee again.”

Jaysan blew a raspberry at Morris.

Brogan’s heart gave a jealous, unhappy lurch, as it often did when he was around his circle of mated omega friends. It had been almost two years since five of them had been rescued from a vicious fight ring. Two omegas, Jaysan and Liam, had found their bondmates and created happy lives for themselves and their children. Two others had passed away. Only Brogan was still alone.

And likely to stay that way now. Who wanted a used-up, twenty-one-year-old omega with a child by an unknown sire?

No one. And he was trying to accept it.

But sometimes he hated his friends for their happiness, and that made him a horrible friend. He should be happy for their joy.

“The usual?” Morris asked.

“New usual,” Jaysan replied. The guy preferred coffee, but ever since becoming pregnant when the pair mated back in the previous spring, he’d stuck to herbal tea. “And a slice of that coconut cake if Mateo has it.”

“Coming right up.” Morris kissed him before getting in line.

“So, up to anything new and exciting you can tell my housebound ass about?” Jaysan asked.

“You are not housebound,” Brogan retorted. “You just have an overprotective mate who’s over-thinking the birth of his first biological child, as well as a toddler to mind. Enjoy the pampering, my friend.”

“Oh, I do. I love Morris to bits and happily submit to his pampering.” Jaysan wiggled his eyebrows. “I just want to live vicariously through my friends, since the most exciting thing I did this week was get a blow job.”

That’s one more blow job than I’ve had lately.

Brogan squashed down the thought about his nonexistent love life and focused on his friend. “I haven’t been by the house in a while. How badly are you nesting?”

Jaysan snickered. “I’m not. Morris is. He keeps second-guessing the paint color in the new nursery, so I just let him fret and fuss, because eventually he comes to me for cuddling. I mean, Morris has always been an emotional guy, but you’d think the fate of the world depended on the nursery being perfect.”

“Sounds like a typical alpha to me.”

Except for the emotional part. Ever since Brogan first met Morris, he’d struck Brogan as almost beta-like in his temperament. Then again, at the time Morris had just lost his brother and brother-in-law in a fatal car accident, so he’d been grieving—and definitely not looking for a mate, but he and Jaysan had felt the bond. They’d resisted it at first, before giving in and opening their arms to love and joy.

“So come on, spill,” Jaysan said. “What have you been up to? It’s been, like, two weeks since we’ve talked.”

“All the same things, honestly. Taking care of Peyton is a full-time job, and I’ve got my support group to manage. Byron has been having a lot of panic attacks, so I’ve been spending time with him at Light House.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

Light House was a brand-new, omega-only support center, run by two beta therapists for the exclusive purpose of providing abused omegas and omegins with resources. After their rescue, Brogan and his fellow fight ring omegas had begun an informal support group that met in each other’s homes, and it had grown to include traumatized beta members, as well. Not quite a year ago, Brogan had split off and created a second support group, because they’d grown so large.

Over the course of this year, because of the noise Kell Iverson Cross and his brother Braun Etting Bloom were making about omega rights, provincial funding was provided for an official support center. Light House offered psychiatric treatment, emergency placement if the omega was in immediate danger from their mate, and meeting space for the various smaller support groups to use, such as both branches of “Raising Our Voices.”

And now the people of Sansbury Province had voted to expand domestic violence laws to include not only beta couples, but also alpha/omega mates. Before last month, an alpha could beat his mate and claim domestic discipline, and the constables couldn’t step in. Now?

Straight to jail.

It was a huge win for omega rights, and he’d never seen Kell or Braun as excited as they’d been the day that bill was signed into provincial law.

“Byron’s getting there, I think,” Brogan said. “He’s only been away from his mate for a few weeks, and he’s still dealing with the miscarriage.”

Jaysan covered his own wide belly with both hands. “I can’t imagine that sort of pain. To be beaten by your mate so badly you lose your first baby. Kale went through that with his former mate, over and over.” Kale was an omega member of Jaysan’s support group.

“He’s dealing with a lot,” Brogan said of Byron, “but he’s got Light House to help him, not just a bunch of amateur, armchair therapists.”

“Do you think if we’d had Light House after our rescue, we’d have made different choices for our lives?”

Brogan cast Jaysan a pointed stare. “Like not giving up Aeron?”

All the fight ring omegas, except one, had been heavily pregnant when rescued, all from unknown sires, and Jaysan had given up his infant at birth. He’d regretted it months later, though, and the goddess had seen fit to reunite omegin and child this past spring. Jaysan had his first son back, the perfect mate, and a second baby on the way.

The perfect little life.

“That, and Reid’s death,” Jaysan said. “Maybe he’d have gotten real help and still be alive.”

“We can’t go back, though, so why wonder? I know you still feel guilty about Reid’s death, and you need to stop. It’s been a year and a half, Jaysan. Regret it if you must, but let go of the guilt.”

“I’m trying, believe me.”

Morris returned with their food, so topics switched to happier things. Jaysan told a humorous story about Aeron’s play date with their mutual friend Jax’s two boys, Karson and Jaxson. With Karson and Aeron both nudging into the terrible twos, they threw tantrums about everything.

“It’s funny watching them sometimes,” Jaysan said. “Because more and more, if Karson is having a fit, Aeron tries to comfort him. It’s like he knows deep down that as an alpha, it’s his role to comfort a distressed omega.”

“Wouldn’t it be funny if they ended up being bondmates when they grow up?” Brogan asked. “Any of our kids.” Their extended group of friends had a fairly even mix of genders among the next generation.

“Guess no one will know until they start turning sixteen and their scents change.” Jaysan groaned. “Goddess, I can’t think about Aeron being a teenager yet. Let’s change the subject.”

“Agreed,” Morris said. “On to something less depressing.”

“This cake is amazing.” Jaysan pointed his fork at the slice of vanilla cake and coconut frosting he was demolishing between words. “Best ever, in fact.”

“I’ll be sure to tell Mateo that.”

“Tell Mateo what?” the man in question asked. He’d come up behind Brogan’s chair. To Jaysan, he said, “You’re coming along quite rapidly, young Mr. Jaysan. Not long now, I suppose?”

“About five weeks,” Jaysan replied. “I can’t wait to meet this little man. They’re easier carrying in your arms than your belly.”

Mateo chuckled. “I’ll take your word for that. Aeron is well?”

“He’s amazing. Growing every day, thank you.”

Morris earned Good Alpha points by not bristling or even seeming annoyed at Mateo speaking to his mate about such a personal thing as his due date. Mateo’s scent suggested he was mated—if not now, then previously, because he’d never mentioned a mate or family in their brief interactions here at Perks.

I wonder if he’s interested in an omegin and his kid?

No, Brogan wasn’t about to throw himself at Mateo, who was at least ten, if not fifteen years his elder. Then again, Brogan’s friend Liam was very happily mated to a man twice his age—except Liam and Isa were bondmates, and Brogan had zero sense of that with Mateo.

“And you, Mr. Brogan?” Mateo asked. “How’s that rascal of yours?”

“A holy terror, but I adore him to bits,” Brogan replied. “I’ll bring him by when it’s not quite so cold out. He tends to get ear aches when it’s below zero.”

“You do that. I’d love to see him. Any luck in your search for a mate?”

“No.” Brogan tapped his stirring spoon against the side of the teacup. “I appreciate you asking, though. Peyton is still young enough that he’ll be able to adapt to a new home, new routine, new parent. My guardians are great, but I can’t stay with them forever.”

“Hold out for happiness, young man. Don’t settle unless absolutely necessary.”

The personal conversation gave Brogan the courage to ask, “Are you still mated?”

Mateo’s friendly smile slipped. “Not for many, many years. Alas, my bondmate died not long after we first mated, and I’ve never looked at another omega. He was it for me, so now I spend my days happily serving our community.” His mood went back up at the end, so Brogan didn’t feel as bad about bringing up a sore subject.

“And we’re very happy to have you,” Morris said.

“Much appreciated. You folks take care.”

Someone else was behind the service counter, so Mateo moved on to chat at another table. Brogan loved that he did that; Mateo truly did seem to care about his customers and neighbors.

“You’re not giving up on searching for a mate, are you?” Jaysan asked.

“No, just maybe changing my angle a bit,” Brogan replied. “I’ve put ads in the Omega Classifieds about an omegin looking for an alpha, but as soon as they meet me and realize who I am, they’re gone. I don’t understand why. I mean, I’m not that ugly, am I?”

“You’re adorable and you know it.”

“May I offer an alpha’s perspective?” Morris asked.

“Please do,” Brogan replied.

“It’s possible they’re put off by Peyton.” Before Brogan could bristle, Morris put up a staying hand, his expression gentle. “Not Peyton himself, but the fact that you don’t know who the sire is. In all technicalities, you’re mated to Peyton’s sire, and few alphas are willing to…how to phrase it? Erase another man’s mark, so to speak? They may not recognize your name from the ad, but your voice is quite distinctive.”

Brogan grumped. The men who’d kidnapped them and forced them to fight had paid a plastic surgeon to mutilate their vocal chords, lowering their voices to barely above a loud whisper, and everyone knew it. That man had finally been sent to prison for a minimum of fifteen years this past summer, but his victims would forever bear the mark of his greed. Their friend Jax—an omega who’d escaped the ring and helped bust it—had been left completely mute.

Morris made a lot of sense. “You mated Jaysan, who was also technically mated before.”

“I did, but we also shared the mating bond. It became impossible for us to ignore, no matter how hard we tried.” Morris leaned forward. “When you find your bondmate, you’ll understand, and he won’t care about Peyton’s sire. Just like I don’t care about Aeron’s.”

Jaysan beamed at his mate.

“I just don’t know if it’s worth waiting around and hoping to meet a bondmate,” Brogan said. “I love how happy all my friends are with their bondmates, I truly am, but I’m twenty-one, and Peyton will be two in two more months. I’ve lived with my guardians way too long. I’m thinking of advertising in the section for widowed alphas who are looking for an omegin caregiver for growing children.”

Jaysan made a face. “You’d give up your dream of finding a bondmate just for housing security?”

Brogan shrugged. “Yes? And didn’t you kind of do the same thing with Morris?”

“No. I didn’t move in with him until after we both gave into the bond.”

“He gave you a bedroom.”

Jaysan blew a raspberry at him. “Whatever. Don’t settle, please? I’d rather move you and Peyton in with us than see you prostitute yourself like that.”

Brogan frowned at his phrasing, then noticed Morris was distracted, staring across the round table to some point over Brogan’s head. Jaysan, who was sitting between them, followed his mate’s gaze and his entire body jerked to alertness. Curious who they were both staring at, Brogan twisted in his chair to look at the service counter.

At first, Brogan didn’t recognize the only man on line to order. Tall and slender, he slouched into his winter coat, but had no gloves or hat, showing off ebony skin and closely-shorn hair. The man seemed…exhausted? Haunted? Brogan wasn’t sure, but his omega instincts woke up and told him to see if the young man was okay.

A chair scraped, and Brogan’s head snapped back around. Morris had stood, and Jaysan held him by one wrist. Brogan looked at the stranger again, and this time, recognition hit him like a truck: Mikel Tovey.

Oh shit.

Before Jaysan had given in and mated with Morris, he’d been acting out, sleeping around with unmated alphas, and Mikel had been one of them. Unknown to Jaysan, Mikel and his family were being systematically abused by their sire, and Mikel had proposed to Jaysan out of desperation to get his family away from the man. When Jaysan mated Morris, Mikel became so despondent, he’d tried to kill himself—only Jaysan intervened and was accidentally stabbed.

Despite nearly dying, Jaysan had rallied for Mikel to received psychiatric treatment, rather than prison time, and after an emotional plea to the judge for leniency, Mikel received one year’s probation. Terms were three months of intense, in-patient therapy, followed by mandatory weekly sessions for another nine months after.

“Morris, don’t,” Jaysan said. His voice was too soft to carry to the counter, but the request made Morris growl. Loudly.

Every pair of eyes in the café zeroed in on their table, including Mikel’s. His eyes widened briefly, and Brogan noticed a strange…deadness in his expression. As if the alpha had no actual emotions left inside, and Brogan had to grab the edge of the table to stay seated and not go to him.

Mikel approached the table, as if completely unaware Morris looked mad enough to spit nails, and Jaysan stood with a lot of effort. Feeling awkward still sitting, Brogan did, too. A wonderful fragrance tickled Brogan’s senses. Earthy, sharp and still sweet, like tomato vine, only richer, and where on earth was it coming—Mikel.

The alpha stopped between Brogan and Jaysan. His nostrils flared several times, but his attention was wholly on Jaysan and Morris, not Brogan. Brogan studied his profile, entranced by the scent and too confused by its source to hope it was exactly what he thought it was.

“Hello, Jaysan,” Mikel said. His voice rippled down Brogan’s spine in a wonderful, nearly-arousing way.

“Hi, Mikel,” Jaysan replied. “You, ah, look…good.”

“You don’t have to be polite. It’s been a rough few months, but I’m happy to see you doing well, obviously.”

Jaysan flushed, both hands sliding up to cover his belly; Morris practically plastered himself against Jaysan’s back. “We’re very excited about the new addition.”

This close, Mikel’s scent was overwhelming, and it took all of Brogan’s self-control not to drool. Or jump the guy. But his memories of Morris so distraught as Jaysan fought to live after the stabbing…yeah, that got his libido back under control. Maybe it had been a horrible accident, but Jaysan had nearly died at this alpha’s hands. Brogan should stay away from the guy.

But. That. Scent.

“I won’t interrupt your gathering,” Mikel said.

“Too late,” Morris snarled.

“I’m Brogan,” Brogan said without planning to, but he didn’t regret it, because Mikel looked directly at him. Dark brown eyes met his, and something new and strange zinged down Brogan’s spine.

Mikel’s gaze briefly dropped, taking Brogan in, before rising again. “Mikel.” A new kind of tension bracketed his eyes. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh, yeah.” Brogan fought the wide grin that wanted to spread across his face, because he shouldn’t feel this happy and relieved while his best friend was distressed over the alpha’s presence.

Mine.

Mikel swallowed hard.

“Oh, hell no,” Jaysan said. “You have got to be kidding me. Really?”

“What?” Morris asked. “What did he do?”

Mikel took a full step back from the table. “I didn’t do anything.”

Maybe pregnancy hormones had gone to his head, because Jaysan poked Mikel right in the chest. “You do not get to feel the mating bond with one of my best friends.”

“The what?” Morris said with another warning growl tacked on.

“It’s not his fault,” Brogan said. “But I can smell it. I swear I’m not imagining things.” To Mikel, he asked, “You feel it, too, right?”

Mikel said nothing, only stared at him with apprehensive eyes and a flat mouth.

“Oh goddess, he feels it,” Jaysan said.

“I shouldn’t have come over here,” Mikel said. “I’m sorry for causing any distress.”

“Wait, you can’t leave.” Brogan took a step toward Mikel, who backed up, and Brogan flinched. “Am I really that repulsive to you?”

Mikel’s flat expression cracked with shock and open distress. “What? Of course not. But you don’t want me as a mate, Brogan. All I do is bring other people misery and pain. You deserve an infinitely better man than me.”

Brogan’s parents had taught him from a young age not to let his gender stop him from going after what he wanted, and he pulled on all his ingrained Dale stubbornness. Squared his shoulders and put his hands on his hips. He was shorter than Mikel by several inches, but Brogan had developed good muscle tone in the fight ring that he’d maintained since his rescue. “I’ve been waiting to feel the bond with an alpha since I was sixteen,” he said. “You can at least afford me a conversation and let me decide what I deserve.”

“You can’t be serious,” Morris said. “He almost killed Jaysan.”

“By accident,” Jaysan added. “You know I don’t hold a grudge against Mikel for that.” He flashed a guilty look at Brogan.

“You don’t hold a grudge,” Brogan said, “but you don’t trust him.” And for the first time, Brogan became painfully aware of how many people were subtly watching this little daytime drama unfold. Suddenly, his whole life felt like an episode of Beta University, a serial Jaysan had turned him onto a few months ago. “Will you please join us, so we can talk without such an obvious audience?”

“I can’t,” Mikel said, “and I promise that’s not an excuse. I was getting something to go on my way to an appointment. Congratulations on the new arrival, Jaysan.”

Before Brogan could protest, Mikel fled the coffee shop, taking that wonderful, earthy scent with him. Brogan stared at the café door, his heart squeezing tight with distress, until Jaysan clutched his hand.

“I’m sorry,” Jaysan said.

“Why? You didn’t do anything.” Brogan flopped back into his chair, slouched and unhappy. The one thing he’d wanted most for the last five years had just walked out the door without a backward glance, and Brogan pinched the bridge of his nose to stop a flood of angry tears. “It’s just more of my shitty luck, that’s all.”

“You’re better off,” Morris snarled.

Jaysan smacked his shoulder. “This is not the time. Brogan finally scented a bondmate, and the man turned him down flat. Do you know how devastating that is for an omega?”

“Oh.” Morris frowned. “I’m sorry, Brogan, that was insensitive.”

Brogan grumped and crossed his arms. “You have every right to hate Mikel, but this really hurts. All I want is a conversation with the man and he ran away like his ass was on fire.”

Jaysan reached over to squeeze his wrist. “Maybe he really did have someplace to be and couldn’t stay.”

“What’s more important to an alpha than his bondmate?”

“Thoughts on that one, alpha?” Jaysan said to Morris in a gentle, teasing tone. Morris was still visibly annoyed at having encountered Mikel, so Jaysan was being mindful of his mate’s feelings, while still defending Brogan.

“His remaining family, perhaps,” Morris replied after a moment’s silence. “Jaysan and Morgan weren’t in my life at the same time, but I know I’d have dropped almost anything if Morgan needed me.”

“And unless I was in immediate danger, I’d have encouraged you to go to him. You’re kind of a public figure, Brogan. Mikel can find you again.”

“Do we want to encourage that?”

“Yes, we do. Even if Mikel turns him down again, Brogan deserves a conversation with him about the bond. He’s been holding out for it for years, Morris, and it just walked away from him.”

Morris finally seemed to understand how big of a deal this was for Brogan, because he turned on a sympathetic smile. “I’m really sorry for what I said. I wasn’t being sensitive to your feelings.”

“Thank you,” Brogan said, even though he didn’t feel any better. “I get why you dislike Mikel, but I have to talk to him. If it turns out he’s a horrid person, it’ll cement my decision to stop hoping for an actual bondmate and just find an alpha who will take me in as a day carer.” Brogan was jealous of every omega who lucked into a kind bondmate, and he longed for his own, but he’d rather forgo the mating bond than give himself and his son to a cruel mate.

Jaysan looked as if he wanted to burst into tears on Brogan’s behalf, and Brogan nearly hugged his friend for it. Then Jaysan said, “It’s not super-weird that Mikel and I used to fuck around, is it?”

Brogan hadn’t given their previous personal relationship any real thought until Jaysan blurted it out. “A little, maybe, but it’s been months, and maybe that’s part of the reason he fled so fast? Maybe the idea of bonding to his ex-lover’s best friend unnerved him.”

Or made him feel sick, and he’ll think of Jaysan every time he’s with me, and won’t that make for an awkward relationship?

His life well and truly sucked today.

“Whatever it is, I’m going home,” Brogan said. “Take care of him for me, Morris, okay?”

“I promise.” Morris kissed Jaysan’s temple.

Brogan hugged his friends where they sat, then shrugged into his coat and began winding his scarf around his neck on the walk to the café door. Mateo waved from behind the counter, so he waved back. As much as Brogan liked spending time with his friends, his emotions were scattered and bruised, and the only thing guaranteed to make him feel better was a big hug from his son.

Peyton was his pride and joy, and today’s encounter proved Brogan needed to stop pining for a bondmate and do what was best for his boy: find a decent mate and finally create a future for them both.

But that scent…