Mikel had his taxi driver drop him off a block away from Brogan’s house so he could pull himself together on the walk over. He’d been a nervous disaster since yesterday’s phone call. Setting up brunch had been one of the hardest things Mikel had ever done, but it was also the right thing to do. It was beyond cruel for Brogan to live the rest of his life knowing he had a bondmate out there in Sansbury Province without knowing why he’d been rejected.

And Mikel needed to reject him.

Except something Dr. Callis said during every session they’d ever had was poking at the back of his mind, reminding him of the words. “You deserve a happy future, too, Mikel.” Some variation, but always the same meaning. So he’d do right by Dr. Callis and try to keep an open mind today. He knew next to nothing about who Brogan really was, what he liked, or what made him tick. Maybe they’d both realize they had nothing in common besides the bond and go their separate ways?

Unlikely. But maybe?

He was early enough that he circled the next block once, then crossed the street. His nerves still buzzed under his skin, and he’d barely slept, so he knew he looked a bit off. But Mikel was always exhausted lately, and today was no different. Even sleep aids didn’t help, because when mixed with his other meds, they gave him intense nightmares.

The Li home was in a nice, heavily-beta neighborhood, with mostly single-story, single-family homes. Some small children were out in one yard, and they all gave him friendly waves. Mikel hesitantly waved back. His destination was painted slate gray with white trim, and it had neat little flower beds frozen over for the winter, waiting for next spring’s new blooms. The whole place seemed…happy.

He rang the bell with a trembling finger. The door swung open, and an older beta man with slicked-back brown hair filled the entryway. “Hello,” Mikel said. “I’m Mikel Tovey, and I’m calling on Brogan?”

The man smiled. “I’m Yeoman Li, one of Brogan’s guardians.” They shook hands; Yeoman had a firm grip. “Please, come inside.”

He entered an open living space that smelled like bacon and other cooked foods. Mikel didn’t have much of an appetite anymore, but his stomach gave an appreciative lurch for his favorite food. Brogan stood in the living room next to another beta man, while a little boy who looked a lot like Brogan played on the floor nearby.

Mikel held out the single flower he’d brought to Brogan. “It felt strange not to bring something,” he said. Being near the omega again, Mikel got another strong whiff of his spun-sugar scent, and it went straight to his dick.

No. Down. Stop.

Brogan smelled the simple daisy. “That’s very kind, thank you.” He introduced Mikel to his other guardian, Daiya, who had the same strong grip as his husband. Then Brogan picked up the toddler and settled him on his hip. “And this is Peyton.” A flash of apprehension creased Brogan’s brow. “My pride and joy.”

“He’s beautiful,” Mikel replied, entranced by the sight of omegin and child. “He looks so much like you.”

“Thank you.”

“Everything is nearly ready to eat,” Daiya said. “Why don’t you two chat while Yeoman and I finish up? Mikel, would you like coffee, tea, or juice?”

“Juice is fine, thank you,” Mikel said. He and caffeine were no longer friends.

The beta couple went across the room to the kitchen, which was separated from the living room by a six-person dining set.

“You have a lovely home,” Mikel said.

Brogan smiled as he put the squirming Peyton down. “Thanks. It isn’t mine, but it’s a very comfortable place to live. The Li’s have been wonderful to allow me and Peyton to stay for as long as they have.”

“They seem very nice.”

Awkward small talk is awkward.

“So, do you live around here, or closer to Perks?” Brogan asked.

“Neither, actually. My family lives in the same neighborhood as Perks, so I just happened to be there yesterday. I live over in Seneca Crest.” Mikel had stopped being ashamed of living in subsidized, province-owned housing. Until he got his shit under control and could work again without worry, he’d forever be a ward of the province.

Maybe Brogan would see that right away and call this whole thing off.

“So you don’t live with your family?” Brogan asked. “You’re the eldest alpha, right?”

“Yes, but because of my ongoing medical issues, I’m only allowed to visit. Not live with them.”

“That’s horrible. Doesn’t your therapist think being around people who love you would help?”

“Yes.” Mikel shrugged while doing his best to ignore Brogan’s addictive scent, and the way he could sense the man’s body heat, even from an arm’s reach away. “I don’t trust myself around them, not after what I did to Jaysan.”

Brogan frowned. “You need to forgive yourself for that.”

Mikel disagreed but didn’t contradict his omega.

No, stop it. He’s not my omega.

But the tickle of the mating bond behind his breastbone disagreed. A deep-down part of him reared up and demanded Mikel claim the body whose scent he loved so much, to take this omega as his mate. And Brogan’s open body language, open expression, and honest eyes suggested he’d submit to Mikel’s claim.

Mikel took a full step backward and clasped both hands behind his back.

Instead of disappointed, Brogan looked determined.

“If you boys are ready,” Daiya said, “everything is on the table.”

Mikel was directed to a chair on one of the table’s long sides, and Brogan sat opposite him. The betas did the same, Daiya next to Brogan and Yeoman next to Mikel. Peyton must have already eaten, because he was left to play within eyesight of the table. Mikel’s place setting had orange juice and ice water, and he observed the offerings. Some flavor of quiche, a plate of toast and pot of dark jam, a mixed fruit salad, and fried ham—must be the bacon smell Mikel picked up on earlier, because he didn’t see actual bacon on the table.

“It’s asparagus and spinach quiche,” Brogan said as he sliced into the round pie. “My own recipe.”

“Your own recipe?” Mikel echoed.

“Brogan is excellent in the kitchen,” Daiya said. “He sort of took over cooking for us after he moved in, and it’s been a treat having him here.” He pointed to the toast. “You have got to try his bacon jam on toast. It’s amazing.”

Brogan blushed and slid a piece of quiche onto Mikel’s plate. “It’s not that great.”

“You could seal it up and sell it at any pop-up market. Hell, you could own a restaurant if that was possible.”

“Yeah, well, omegas can’t own property.”

“Yet,” Yeoman said with a pointed look.

“I’m perfectly content cooking for my friends.”

Curious, Mikel spread the bacon jam onto a piece of toast. Brogan’s stare bored into his skin as he took a big bite. Warm, bacon, spice, sweet, plus the crunch of the bread…wow. Mikel devoured the entire slice and followed it with a gulp of juice before he realized everyone was staring at him.

Especially Brogan, who seemed caught between amused and uncertain.

“It’s amazing,” Mikel said. “Bacon is my favorite food, and I’d eat this jam on a shoe if I had to. Wow, Brogan, really. It’s delicious.”

Brogan preened, and no, that was not intensely adorable or anything. Somehow Brogan’s scent still rose above the other myriad smells in the room to tempt him. They ate for a few minutes, and Mikel enjoyed the reprieve before the real questions began.

“So, Mikel,” Daiya said, “can you tell us a bit about yourself? Your family?”

“Of course.” Mikel put his fork down so they didn’t see his hand trembling. “I grew up here in Sansbury. My parents relocated from the south while Omegin was pregnant with me. I have one completed semester at university, but my grades weren’t that great. I’d wanted to look into a trade school, because I’ve simply never been a good student, but my sire wouldn’t hear of it.”

Damn it, he hadn’t wanted to bring up his sire today.

“I, uh, have three beta brothers, all younger of course. Um, I think that’s about it. I’m only twenty, so I haven’t really done much with my life yet.” He had to sound like he was applying for a paid position and doing a piss-poor job of it.

“How old are your brothers?” Brogan asked.

“Eighteen, sixteen, and thirteen.”

“How are they doing with everything that’s happened?”

How are they doing with their abusive prick of a sire in prison and they’re all finally safe?

Mikel sipped his juice, because his mouth had just gone dry. “They’re coping and finding ways to understand what happened. Omegin has talked about visiting Light House for help.”

“He should,” Brogan said. “It’s an amazing resource for omegas. I’m part of a support group that meets there twice a month for abused betas and omegas.”

“You are?”

“Yes. We formed it not long after our rescue from the fight ring, so we could support each other and talk about what we went through.”

The reminder of what Brogan had gone through, that other men had touched and hurt his omega, sent a flash of rage down Mikel’s spine, and he swallowed back the instinct to growl. Instead, he carefully said, “I’m glad you had your friends,” to his plate.

“Thank you.”

Brogan’s quiet reply forced Mikel to look at him. Brogan seemed tentative, almost sad, and Mikel needed to fix it somehow, but he couldn’t fix it if he didn’t understand the problem. “What’s wrong?” Mikel asked.

“Nothing, we just agreed we wouldn’t talk about the past today, and here we are, talking about it.” Brogan waved a hand in the air. “Never mind, new subject. Tell me more about how amazing my cooking is.”

Mikel laughed. His first real, sharp belt of laughter in a long, long time, and it unfurled something in his chest he hadn’t realized was coiled up tight. He felt…lighter, and he grinned across the table at Brogan. He’d done that for Mikel.

Something tugged on Mikel’s elbow, and he looked down. Peyton was standing by his chair, gazing up at him with wide, innocent eyes, and he held a pink bird toy in his free hand. He raised that hand toward Mikel. “My bird,” he said.

Mikel’s frozen heart thawed a tiny bit. “It’s a lovely bird. Does it have a name?”

“Flame.”

“That’s a good name for a bird.” He hadn’t been around a child this small since Naya, his youngest brother, was a toddler. Up close, he caught a similar scent as Brogan, but also unique to the boy. A mix of Brogan and the unknown sire, who was technically Brogan’s mate.

Peyton dropped the bird and held both hands out. “Come up.”

Mikel blinked, first at the child, and then at his omegin. Brogan’s tender smile melted Mikel’s resistance a fraction more. “You can put him on your lap,” Brogan said.

“Um, okay. Come here, little man.” Mikel carefully lifted Peyton and situated him so the boy was centered on his lap, facing the table. He reached out and swiped a piece of cut melon off Mikel’s plate. “Scavenger.”

“He loves fruit, especially strawberries.”

“That’s good. Fruit’s good for you.” Growing up, Mikel and his family had eaten whatever Omegin could afford with the credit their sire didn’t waste on liquor and gambling. Bacon had been a very rare birthday treat.

“Mikel?”

His attention snapped to Brogan. “Yes, sorry?”

“You looked sad for a moment.”

“I let myself drift into the past and shouldn’t have.” Peyton seemed perfectly content to sit in his lap and steal fruit off his plate, which felt really good. Almost…right. As if he, Brogan, and Peyton had brunch like this all the time with the Li’s. If as Peyton even recognized the bond Mikel and Brogan shared.

Until Yeoman said, “Peyton is a very social boy. He loves people and has so many friends his age to play with.”

And here I thought I was special. Fuck.

Brogan shot Yeoman a strange look that Mikel couldn’t decipher. Mikel kept eating around Peyton’s grabby hands, but the joyful spell was broken. Eventually, the betas shooed them into the living room to chat, while they cleaned up. Brogan turned on light music to give them a semblance of privacy in the big room.

Brogan sat on one end of the couch, and after depositing Peyton onto the floor with his toys, Mikel joined him, leaving about two feet of open air between them. “Yeoman wasn’t trying to be mean,” Brogan said.

“What? When?”

“When he talked about how social Peyton is. Which is true, especially with my friends’ kids, but he doesn’t always wander up to strange adults and want to be picked up.”

“Oh.” Gratitude swept through him. “Thank you for saying that.” Mikel tried to ignore the way Brogan’s proximity made his skin prickle, the way his scent curled around his body and left him warm, gooey, and wanting. “So…”

“We should talk about the bond and what it means. Ever since yesterday, I’ve missed you and I don’t even know you.”

“Same. But I’m also terrified of taking on a mate, especially while I’m still on probation. Still in weekly therapy. I have four months left before I see the judge again to determine if I’m fit to even live with other people.”

“Can you tell me more about that? Not living with others?”

“It was one of my conditions, actually. After trying to kill myself and stabbing Jaysan instead, I did not trust myself or my self-control. At all.” Shame burned in his chest. “I don’t know if he ever told you this, but a few weeks before Jaysan mated with Morris, I proposed to Jaysan and he said he’d think about it. I did it for solely selfish reasons, but that’s not my point. I terrified Jaysan that day, because I’d invited him over for sex, and when he changed his mind, I thought he was playing a game.”

Brogan’s face paled. “Goddess, did you force him?”

“No, I got handsy, and I scared him, but it didn’t go that far. And when I didn’t hear from Jaysan after, I got upset with myself and with him. I ended up getting into a brawl with another alpha, and I can’t even remember why, but I beat him pretty badly simply because I was angry, and I saw how much of my sire was in me. Hitting in anger is his specialty.” Mikel bit the inside of his cheek to chase away unwanted tears. He’d cried so much over this already.

Brogan squeezed his wrist, and that simple contact buzzed up Mikel’s arm like he’d touched a live spark. “I’ll tell you a secret maybe you don’t know,” Brogan said. “Morris was afraid of the same thing. Of mating and turning into his sire, because Morris grew up being abused, too. Him and his big brother, and they both turned into amazing men. Morris is a dedicated alpha, not an alphahole. Did your omegin love you?”

“Very much. And he tried to protect us, but he’s a very small man.” Mikel had more than one childhood memory of Lew Tovey picking his mate up by the throat and holding him against a wall. Choking him nearly unconscious for interrupting a discipline session to complain about Lew’s cruelty.

“Were your parents bonded?” Brogan asked.

“No.”

“Neither were Morris’s. Neither were Kell and Krause Iverson.”

Mikel knew the names by reputation only. Two years ago, almost to the day, Kell pled guilty to simple assault for the murder of his alpha mate Krause, after details of Krause’s sadistic, systematic abuse were aired publicly during trial. It had been a turning point in omega rights cases involving torture disguised as “domestic discipline.”

“There’s something to be said for nature versus nurture,” Brogan continued. “You knew violence, but you also knew love. And the bond knows which to choose for our mate.”

“I knew more than just violence. I also knew torture.” He glanced at Peyton, who was happily playing with his toys and laughing at nothing at all. “I look at your son, and I’m terrified of being his parent. Of being responsible for teaching him how to be a good, caring alpha when he grows up, because I can’t even call myself one.”

“Maybe not today, but what about tomorrow? Or months from now?”

“I can’t make you wait for me.”

Brogan slid a few inches closer, still holding him by the wrist. “You aren’t making me do anything. I was raised by beta parents. Kind, good people who taught me to wait until I found my bondmate. To wait until I knew I’d be safe with him before leaving their home to mate and start a family. For a while, during everything with the fight ring, I lost that hope, because I never thought I’d see daylight again. Eight months, Mikel. I was a prisoner for eight months.

“But once I was free again? The moment Peyton was in my arms? I wanted a bondmate again. I wanted to give my boy everything he deserves and more. Before I scented you yesterday and felt the bond, I’d started giving up that bondmate dream. I considered settling for any alpha who’d take us in.”

Mikel growled low in his throat at the idea of any other alpha touching Brogan.

“Exactly,” Brogan said with a smirk. “I’ve waited for my bondmate for twenty-one years, Mikel, and if I have to wait a year or more for you to be ready, I will. We can take our time and get to know each other. Really get to know each other, all our secrets and warts and private hurts, and it doesn’t have to be all at once. Peyton already likes you, and I happen to be pretty fond of you, myself.”

Brogan was so sincere Mikel wanted to promise him everything—but he knew better than that. And he didn’t want Brogan making promises he might regret later. It was extremely rare for an alpha or omega to feel the mating bond twice in their life—rare, but not impossible—and if Brogan felt it again with another…Mikel would hate it, but he’d let Brogan go.

“I’m not saying no to anything,” Mikel said. He twisted his wrist so he could hold Brogan’s hand. “What I know I can offer you right now, Brogan, is friendship. We can spend time together, get to know each other, develop a relationship outside the draw of the mating bond. And I don’t expect you to limit yourself while I’m figuring my shit out.” Bile rose in his throat, but Mikel still said, “If you want to sleep with other men, to scratch an itch, I am completely okay with that.”

Brogan shocked him to his core by laughing out loud. “Don’t worry about that, I’m not one to sleep around. Other than a few curious blow jobs in my late teens, I haven’t had sex with anyone outside my captivity except Peyton’s sire, and I barely remember that. I have no issue waiting for you, Mikel.”

He gaped at his earnest omega, shocked by the admission and angered by the reminder of how Brogan had been abused by cruel men after he lost a fight. “You’ve never had sex outside of heat?”

“No.” Brogan shrugged, clearly unbothered by it. “I was raised to believe sex was only for my mate, and I’ve held fast to that belief all these years. Honoring the things my parents taught me is the only way I have to really remember them. It’s only been three years, but sometimes that life feels so long ago.”

“I’m sorry you lost them.” He didn’t know how Brogan’s parents had died, only that both were gone for Brogan to have been sent to Lawry’s halfway house. A halfway house from which he was forcibly impregnated, and then sold into slavery.

“Thank you.” Brogan slid a bit closer, his scent so strong now Mikel nearly started drooling. “I’ll tell you about it someday.”

“Okay.”

“So is this us agreeing to date and give ourselves a chance, while you finish up your probation?”

Mikel didn’t want to admit how easily Brogan had gotten him to cave, when he’d planned on coming here to end things. But Brogan was so handsome and earnest, and he had a gentle spirit that Mikel needed to protect at all costs. For someone to have gone through so much pain and still see goodness in someone as twisted as Mikel? Brogan was perfect and out of his league, but Brogan wanted Mikel anyway.

Only because our bond tells him to want me.

True or not, their bargain gave Mikel time. Time to continue his therapy, to get his life back on track, and to figure out how to prove to Brogan that Mikel wasn’t worth his friendship, much less his love.

After another hour of light conversation about any random thing that wasn’t their relationship, Mikel politely excused himself. Brogan hated seeing him leave so soon, but he also saw the stress today’s brunch had caused Mikel—in the tension lines around his eyes and the stiffness of his shoulders. He needed a break.

So Brogan picked up Peyton and walked Mikel to the door. Today had gone ten times better than he’d expected, and they’d agreed to date. It wasn’t a promise, but it was a damned good start. Brogan would have preferred a hug, but he shook Mikel’s offered hand instead. He watched from the door’s window as Mikel disappeared down the block, and then he was gone.

“What do you think, Pey-pey?” Brogan whispered. “Do you like him as much as I do?”

Peyton squirmed. “Omi. Get down.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He put the boy down and watched him toddle off to whatever his developing brain told him was important right this instant.

Mikel was broken, that was much obvious, as much from their limited conversations as from the things Mikel didn’t say. His use of the word “torture” to describe his sire’s actions had both horrified and infuriated Brogan on a cellular level. Brogan understood torture. The psychological torture of being locked in a room with nothing but magazines for months on end, never told why he was there until his first fight. The physical torture of beating up other omegas, or being beaten by them, some of whom he now considered his friends. The sexual torture of being given to a sadistic alpha after losing a fight, to be used over and over as they saw fit.

Oh yes. Brogan knew torture, and he wanted to fix this for his bondmate, but Mikel had so many walls erected around himself. Walls that would take time to navigate and tear down. And Brogan had time. All he had was time. At least four more months, during which he’d go into heat and have to bear it alone, knowing his bondmate was out there and unwilling to help him.

No, he didn’t have to think about heat for ages yet. Mikel seemed to like him, and he’d been very complimentary about Brogan’s cooking. He got along with Peyton. All things friends did, so Brogan had to ramp it up a notch. Not only help Mikel like him, but to also fall in love with him. Mikel was so guarded he couldn’t see past his own flaws, but Brogan could. He could see himself with Mikel years from now, with Peyton and maybe a few kids of their own. A beautiful mix of Brogan’s fair complexion and Mikel’s dark skin.

“Brogan?” Daiya said. He and Yeoman had disappeared during Brogan’s chat with Mikel, and he’d appreciated their discretion. Now the pair stood near the mouth of the hallway that led to the bedrooms.

“Hey, thanks for today,” Brogan said.

“So it went well?”

“We’re going to take our time and date. Mikel is scared because he’s still in therapy, but we talked about different things. We’ll get to know each other first, then worry about mating later, once he’s off probation and is comfortable in his own skin again.”

“That sounds like a mature plan,” Yeoman said.

“Thank you. As much as I’d rather not wait, I completely understand why we have to. Mikel is still figuring out who he is as a man, a son, and an alpha, and I’ll give my bondmate all the time he needs.”

“Even if it’s months to years?”

“Yes.” Brogan approached his guardians, desperate for them to understand. “The mating bond is something unique to omegas and alphas, and I know it’s difficult to explain sometimes. But imagine the moment you both knew the other was the one you wanted to marry. Imagine that times a hundred, and that’s the mating bond. We recognize each other as our mate, and it isn’t going to go away if we ignore it. It’ll always be there. So if going slow and taking our time is what gets us there? It’s what we’ll do.”

“I understand,” Yeoman said. “And once again, there is no rush on you and Peyton moving out. With my recent job change, our ranking on the beta adoption list has gone down again, so the chances of us being approved in the next six months isn’t great.”

“But you will be approved. You guys will make amazing parents one day. You have been a lifesaver for me and Peyton, and I couldn’t be more grateful to you both for taking us in.”

“You guys are family,” Daiya said. “You’ll always be family, no matter where you go.”

“Thank you.” Brogan hugged both men, and then wandered down the hall to the bathroom.

Peyton toddled after him, so Brogan did his business with a twenty-two-month-old audience. They’d have to start potty training soon, which he did not look forward to—but he would be happy to finally ditch diapers. They all would. Branson was now trained, so maybe he could call Kell Cross for some tips.

Right after he called another of his friends for tips on how to win over his shy, hesitant alpha. Because Brogan was now positive of one thing: he wanted to be Mikel’s mate, and he’d do whatever he could to prove he was the only omega for the job.