Mikel’s new routine included daily interactions with Brogan, and the last two weeks had been the best of his life. They spoke every day on the phone, usually more than once. Mikel frequently went over for a home-cooked meal, sometimes with the Li’s and sometimes without. He liked their home, and it gave him a chance to be part of Peyton’s bedtime routine several nights a week. A few times, Mikel and Brogan met for simple visits at Perks for tea and a cookie, since neither of them drank coffee.

Life was…good. He’d discussed Brogan with Dr. Callis during both appointments since meeting him, and Dr. Callis seemed pleased with Mikel’s progress. More than simply getting better and completing his probation, Mikel had a personal, tangible goal now: get better and claim his family.

On the two-week anniversary of meeting Brogan in Perks, Mikel wanted to do something new. Change up their routine a little. So he invited Brogan and Peyton to his apartment for dinner. And the moment Brogan accepted over the phone, Mikel went into minor panic mode. It was still early in the day, so he had plenty of time to plan. He spent hours scrubbing every inch of his already-tidy place. Fluffed the pillows on his futon. Selected the best plates and cups from the mismatched selection that came with the apartment.

The only thing he didn’t have was a dining set of any sort—the apartment was too tiny—so he ran down to the nearest second-hand store and bought two big floor pillows. They could sit on them and eat on the coffee table, picnic-style. His kitchen wasn’t set up for cooking much, so he splurged on takeout and saved a few credits on tip by picking it up himself.

He arrived back at his apartment a few minutes before Brogan knocked on the door. Brogan grinned at him from the hallway, cheeks flushed from the cold, and…alone.

“Where’s Peyton?” Mikel asked.

“With Jax and Karter for the night.” Brogan unwound his thick scarf as he entered. “I’d been meaning to set up a play date for Peyton and the boys, so I dropped him off a few hours ago.”

“Oh.”

“Is that okay?”

“Of course.” Mikel was a little sad he didn’t get to see Peyton today, but also excited to be alone with Brogan. Nervous, too, because he hadn’t been expecting it. “Let me take your coat.” He put it on one of the wall pegs behind the door.

“I like your place. It’s cozy.”

It’s a dump.

“Thank you,” Mikel replied. “It’s not bad for being free. I don’t have a dining table, but I thought a picnic would be nice.”

Brogan grinned at the setup. “I love that idea. What are we eating?”

“I ordered a stuffed Stromboli with extra sauces for dipping. I thought it would be a nice change from simple pizza.”

“Sounds great. What’s it stuffed with?”

Mikel stepped over to the counter and pulled the wrapped Stromboli from the bag so he could cut it. “Cheese, pepperoni, and all kinds of sautéed vegetables. I also got both a regular marinara and an Alfredo sauce.”

“Ooh, variety.” Brogan peeked over his shoulder. “What can I do?”

Brogan’s mouth-watering spun-sugar scent settled right into his bones—and his dick. “Go sit. Let me wait on you for a change.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

Even with Brogan halfway across the apartment, his scent still lingered and nearly distracted Mikel into slicing his thumb. He managed to get the Stromboli cut and arranged on two plates, which he delivered to the coffee table, along with the two sauces. “I didn’t get anything fancy to drink,” Mikel said. “But I have water and some cans of cola.”

“Water is fine, thank you.”

Mikel grabbed a water for himself, too, along with paper towels, because finger food got messy, before finally settling on the pillow opposite Brogan.

“This is a really fun idea,” Brogan said. “Thank you for letting me see your place.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You always seemed shy about it before.”

Mikel shrugged. “It’s hard to admit you live in a place like this, on assistance, especially when you’re an alpha. But you’ve never judged me for my situation. I trust you.”

“And I trust you.” Brogan picked up this water as if to toast. “Here’s to friendship, trust, and making our own way forward.”

“Cheers.”

The Stromboli was delicious and packed with flavor from all the veggies. Mikel loved the marinara, while Brogan seemed to prefer slathering the Alfredo all over his. They chatted a bit about their day. Mikel admitted to going crazy cleaning, and Brogan told him about Peyton’s new favorite word.

“I swear, if he says ‘no’ one more time,” Brogan grumped. “I think he got it from Karson, but I can’t be sure.”

“He’s entering the terrible twos.”

“Goddess, don’t remind me.”

“You’ll do fine.”

Brogan’s expression flickered. “So what are you reading this week?”

“Spending time with an adventure novel, a woodworking how-to, and another cookbook. This one’s all casseroles.”

“For someone who doesn’t cook, you are obsessed with food lately.”

Mikel felt his cheeks heat. “You love to cook, so I want to know more about it. Even if I can’t really do it, I can understand it more.”

“You’re reading cookbooks for me?”

“Well…yes?”

Brogan smiled with such tenderness, it took everything in Mikel not to lean over and kiss him. “That is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done.”

“I want to do sweet things for you, and not just because of the mating bond. I genuinely enjoy your company, and I want us to have a relationship built on mutual respect. Maybe I can’t cook myself, but even reading recipes teaches me how much work goes into what you love doing. I admire that.”

And he hadn’t forgotten Daiya’s comment about Brogan owning a restaurant. If that’s what Brogan wanted for his future, Mikel needed to know more about it to help his omega succeed.

Brogan slid off his pillow and crawled to Mikel’s side of the coffee table, where he planted himself right next to Mikel. “Even though I only know a fraction of what your sire put you through, the fact that you are being so thoughtful speaks volumes to the love instilled in you by your omegin.”

Mikel wrapped his hand around Brogan’s, his heart trilling with joy over those words, when only a few weeks ago, he wouldn’t have believed them. “Thank you.” Brogan’s body heat soaked into Mikel’s skin; his scent made Mikel’s mouth water for a taste. One small taste of the man driving him crazy with his proximity.

But if they started something, would Mikel be able to stop?

He jerked to his feet, hating himself for the stunned look on Brogan’s face. “Sorry, um, I need the bathroom a moment.”

“Okay.”

And like a coward, Mikel fled the room and locked himself into the tiny bathroom.

Brogan stared at the shut door, confused and annoyed with himself for being so forward with Mikel, when the alpha had made it abundantly clear he wanted slow. Practically plopping into his lap was not slow. Nor was the hungry look in Mikel’s eyes the instant before he pulled away.

Above the tantalizing aromas of their meal, Mikel’s scent still reigned supreme, and it had driven Brogan nuts during the meal. His body knew his mate, and all he wanted to do was kiss Mikel. Touch his skin. See what made him moan. But that was going way too fast for the limits Mikel had set, and Brogan had been a fool to push. And the longer Mikel remained in the bathroom with no obvious sounds, the more foolish he felt.

He stood and walked to the bathroom door. Put his palm against the thin plastic. “Mikel, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not you.”

“Yes, it is. I was being too forward, and I’m so sorry. Please, come out.”

“Give me a moment. Please.”

“Okay.”

Brogan started cleaning up their food and put away the small bit of leftovers in the tiny fridge. The place reminded him more of a dorm room than an apartment—not that he’d ever been in a university dorm, but he’d seen photos. It had just enough equipment to get by, with no real comforts of a proper home.

Cleanup done, he waited on the futon. When Mikel emerged from the bathroom, his eyes were red, but he was alert and sort of smiling. “I’m sorry about that,” he said.

“Don’t apologize.” Brogan patted the futon beside. “Come sit, so we can talk about it. Communicating is the only way this is going to work.”

Mikel sat, close enough that Brogan wasn’t offended, but not near enough to accidentally touch. “I didn’t want you to see the panic attack, so I ran from you. I’m sorry.”

“You had a panic attack? Why?”

“Because I wanted to kiss you.”

Brogan frowned, unsure if he’d just been insulted or not. “I would have liked a kiss, so tell me why it scared you into a panic attack.”

“Because the last man I kissed was Jaysan, and I didn’t stop right away when he asked.”

“But you did stop.”

“After scaring the piss out of him.”

Brogan clasped one of Mikel’s hands and squeezed. “Do you truly believe, bondmate, that if I said no, you wouldn’t hear me? That after everything we’ve shared about our pasts, you’d force me?”

“I don’t know, and that’s what terrifies me about being alone with you.”

“I trust you, Mikel. I know in my heart that even if we’d gone as far as we could and you were at the point of penetration, that you’d stop if I said no. I’ll believe it for both of us, until you believe it too.”

Mikel studied his face. “You do believe it, don’t you?”

“Yes. I promised never to lie to you. Maybe those instincts are easier for me to feel, because you’re on medication, I don’t know. But the goddess knows what she’s doing when she bonds us. We’ve been waiting for each other, and I hope one day you realize that too.”

“I do realize it. I thank her every day for putting you in my life. You are my touchstone in a storm of broken glass and jagged edges, calmly pulling me forward toward light and love. You give me hope while I’m mired in a place where hope is a dangerous, precious thing. That’s why I’m so scared of doing the wrong thing. If I pushed you away…”

“I’m not going anywhere. This thing we’re doing right now? Talking? That’s what will always get us through the rough patches, and there will be more rough patches. We’re both imperfect people, but we’re also both survivors, Mikel. We know the evil men do, how quickly the good can be stripped away, which means we’ll cling hard to what we love.”

Mikel’s eyes gleamed. “I am falling for you, Brogan, and I’m scared.”

“I’m scared too. And I’m falling for you. But as long as we fall together, we’ll land as one.”

Brogan’s words must have finally hit home, because a hot mouth landed on his, and then he was engulfed. Engulfed by heat, strong arms, and the heady scent and flavor of his bondmate. Mikel kissed like he needed Brogan to breathe, dipping his tongue into his mouth, leaving his very essence behind. And Brogan kissed him back, because he’d never been part of such a kiss. Hard. Needy. Perfect.

His back hit the futon, and Brogan gave in to the big, rutting body on top of his. A thick erection rubbed against Brogan’s thigh, and his own dick was getting into the game fast. He dragged his fingers down Mikel’s back, encouraging him to take what he wanted, because Brogan would give him anything. Anything for his alpha. His mate.

Mikel wrenched his mouth away, horror stealing over his face. Brogan wrapped his legs around Mikel’s calves and cinched his arms tighter around his waist. “Stay, please,” Brogan panted. “I love this, and I’m not scared.”

“Are you sure?”

Brogan thrust his erection up. “Very sure. Your kisses are amazing. But if you want to stop, we can stop.”

“I’m not sure.”

“If you aren’t sure, then we should stop.”

Mikel sat up and helped Brogan right himself. They stayed close, hips touching, and Mikel wrapped his arm around Brogan’s shoulders. “I feel like I lost control,” Mikel said. “You taste so good, so sweet, and I wanted more.”

“Same. And I was totally along for the ride.” Both their slacks were still immodestly tented, and Brogan’s mouth watered at the idea of tasting his bondmate’s cock. He’d never wanted to go down on someone so badly in his life, but that was definitely too much, too soon. “Why do you think you lost control?”

“Because I forgot about everything except kissing and rutting and getting off, and I don’t want to use you like that.”

“You aren’t using me when I consent to it. And now that I know how good you taste, I can’t wait to do it again. I can’t wait to give you all of me.”

Mikel’s nostrils flared, and his gaze flickered toward Brogan’s crotch. “I want to taste and mark every inch of your body as mine.”

“I am yours, and I’m here when you’re ready to claim me.” Brogan kissed his cheek, then rubbed their noses together. “But I know you aren’t ready yet. I also wouldn’t object to more kissing tonight, if that’s what you want.”

With a soft growl, Mikel smothered him into the futon again.

Mikel came over for what was becoming a tradition of weekend brunch, and he loved it. While he still had blood family he occasionally saw, Brogan and the Li’s were another kind of family for him, and they welcomed him with open arms. The extra people didn’t give him and Brogan any privacy to share more than a few brief kisses, but that was okay. He and Brogan had made out for hours last night, and then Mikel had jerked off to the memories once Brogan left for the evening.

So good. So very good.

As much as his body instinctively craved his bondmate, Mikel was determined to go slow. Romance his omega. Make sure they were both mentally and emotionally prepared for sex. For all that Brogan seemed on board with fucking as soon as possible, Mikel had to know they were both ready. And Mikel wasn’t.

Physically? Sure. Emotionally? He’d talk to Dr. Callis about that this week.

It was on the warmer side for a winter day, so they tucked Peyton into his stroller and took a long walk. The air still had a crispness to it, but Brogan reassured him it wouldn’t be enough to give Peyton an earache.

Something in Mikel had reset itself since last night, because every instinct in his body now screamed that Brogan and Peyton were his, and he’d battle anyone who tried to hurt them. Especially Peyton, who was still so young and innocent. Mikel wanted to protect him from the world.

But he still worried. The shadow of Mikel’s sire forever lingered over them, taunting him with what he could become, if he ever lost his temper. Lost his humanity.

Lost his soul.

And what happened when Lew Tovey was released from prison in ten years? What if he got out sooner? What if he tried to contact Mikel? Tried to insinuate his evil into the family Mikel longed to create?

No, he’d sooner kill the man himself than allow him back into Mikel’s life. Anything to protect his family.

They walked for a while, taking turns pushing the stroller. Mikel treated them both to hot chocolates from a sidewalk cart, and they paused out of foot traffic to sip them. Brogan also stole a few chocolatey kisses.

“Have you told your family about me?” Brogan asked after they started walking again.

“No.” The question was a bit out of the blue, but not unreasonable. “I didn’t think we were telling other people yet. Besides your guardians and my therapist, of course.”

“No, we aren’t. And it’s only been two weeks, so it isn’t as if there’s that much to tell.”

“There’s a lot to tell.” Mikel let out a deep breath, his taste for the hot chocolate gone. “I’ve distanced myself from my omegin and brothers, so we don’t talk that much, and when we do, it’s only surface stuff. There’s so much unspoken pain, and I just caused more when I hurt Jaysan.”

“You also created a path for your family to get away from your sire. They’re safe now because of you.”

“They are.” Mikel clung hard to that thought, which was the only thing that gave him hope some days—in the days before he met Brogan. Because now Brogan and Peyton gave him so much hope. “One day, I’d like you to meet my family. I’m just not ready yet.”

“I understand. Would you mind if I told more people about us?”

Telling more people made the whole thing even more real, and wasn’t that the point? Mikel wasn’t backing out of this, especially now that his heart had imprinted on both Brogan and Peyton. “Tell who?”

“Well, we have play date with Liam and Kell this week, and I’d like to be able to tell them I’ve met my bondmate. They’ll respect our privacy if I ask them to, because they’re great people, but I’d like to share it with my friends.”

Brogan sounded so earnest and hopeful that Mikel couldn’t dare say no. “Then tell your friends. You deserve to share your happiness with them.”

“Our happiness.”

“That too.” Mikel kissed his temple. “Our happiness.”

He loved the sound of that.

The doorbell startled Brogan out of a half-doze and almost right off the couch. He’d put Peyton down for his afternoon nap a little while ago, and what was supposed to be time to read had turned into an impromptu nap. He rarely had visitors during the week, and he wasn’t expecting Mikel today. Mikel had called last night after their afternoon walking around and complained of a head cold that he didn’t want to spread to Peyton, so he’d begged off tonight’s dinner.

The chime rang again, so Brogan peeled himself off the couch and answered the door. Senior Constable Isa Higgs and Constable Tarek Bloom stood on the stoop in full uniform, which put Brogan on instant alert. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Is Liam okay? Braun?”

“Liam and Braun are fine,” Higgs replied. “May we come in? I have some new questions for your about, ah, the halfway house.”

“You do?” Brogan thought he’d said all he could about that period of his life, but apparently Higgs and Tarek had something new. “Um, please, come in out of the cold.”

“Thank you.”

Brogan shut the door and trailed both men into the living room. “Can I get you coffee or tea, Constables?”

“No, we’re here officially.” Higgs turned and pulled a small notepad and pen out of his coat pocket. The big man intimidated Brogan a little bit, but Higgs was also the mate of one of Brogan’s best friends, which made him family. “May we sit?”

“Of course.” Brogan perched on the edge of an armchair, his nerves zinging all over the place now.

Higgs and Tarek sat on the couch opposite him. “As you know,” Tarek said. “we’ve never stopped investigating the complicated financial ties between Fynn Lawry, Mad Dog Productions, and Bellair Financial. There are so many shell companies and money transfers that even two years later, we’re still trying to untangle it and find all the players.”

“I take it you’ve found something, then? If you’re both here?”

“We have,” Higgs said. “One of the things consistent with Lawry’s financials was a money transfer to his private account three weeks after each of the fight ring omega’s heat ended. The heat that produced a pregnancy.”

Brogan went cold all over. “You found one connected to Peyton’s sire.”

“Possibly, yes. Our team was finally able to connect your…” Higgs seemed to have trouble knowing how to phrase the forty-eight-hour time-period during which an unknown alpha was allowed to knot Brogan without his consent, while Lawry watched. “Your assault to one of those transfers. We’d like you to look at nine photographs and tell us if you recognize any of the men.”

“Okay.”

Tarek produced a voice recorder. “This is Constable Tarek Bloom, along with Senior Constable Isa Higgs. We’re about to do a photo identification with Brogan Dale in the ongoing investigation into Fynn Lawry and Mad Dog Productions. Mr. Brogan has not been coached in any way.”

Higgs spread nine photos out on the coffee table. All young men around Brogan’s age, similar in appearance. Blond, good-looking, probably alpha from their builds. Brogan picked up each photo and studied it, hoping something jumped out at him. A jaw line, or the eyes, anything that seemed familiar. He’d been drugged for most of the heat, unable to truly understand what was going on or why.

After a long time, he’d separated them into two piles. Seven he didn’t recognize and two he might have seen before. He could see a little bit of Peyton in both men. “I wish I could say with absolute certainty,” Brogan said, “but it could be one of these two. More than the rest, I get a sense of having seen them before.” He touched the picture of the man with the slender nose and narrow eyes. “Especially him.”

“That’s good, thank you,” Tarek said. “For the record, Mr. Brogan identified suspect Francis Hamilton as one of two possible assailants.”

“Hamilton. Why do I know that name?”

“The connection we found was with Senior Freya Hamilton, CEO of Hamilton Media, which controls the province’s three television broadcast networks.”

“Fuck me. Peyton’s sire is a Hamilton?”

“Possibly,” Higgs replied. “We’d like you to take Peyton to the hospital for a DNA test as soon as possible.”

“Of course.” A flash of ice-cold panic through him, and Brogan leapt to his feet. “Oh, goddess, they aren’t going to try and take my baby like Mancini did, are they? I won’t let them. Peyton is my son!”

“Peyton isn’t going anywhere,” Higgs said with a protective growl. “We’ll see to that. And we haven’t tipped off Senior Hamilton in any way.”

“What about Francis?” Brogan barely fought the urge to grab Peyton and flee. “Does he know?”

Higgs and Tarek shared a look. “Francis passed away six weeks after the assault,” Tarek said. “From a rare, genetic blood disorder called Donal Syndrome.”

“Oh.” His momentary relief was smashed hard by what Tarek had just said. “Genetic disorder? Could Francis have passed this down to Peyton?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, Peyton has a fifty-fifty chance of inheriting the gene.”

“Goddess, no. No, not my boy.”

Grief-stricken and horrified, Brogan bolted down the hall to Peyton’s room. The baby was stirring from his nap, and Brogan couldn’t help it. He whisked Peyton out of the crib and held him close, a few stray tears wetting his cheeks. “You don’t have it, you don’t. I won’t let it be so.”

Brogan had only heard of Donal Syndrome recently, because one of his daytime serials had done a story line about the disease. A character’s sibling became suddenly, violently ill and died weeks later—from Donal Syndrome. It could lay dormant for years and not manifest in any way until the carrier’s early twenties. But when it went from dormant to active, the virus turned its host’s body against itself within weeks.

And the two most horrifying things about it? No carriers of the disease lived past twenty-five, and there was currently no cure for it.

“You don’t have it,” Brogan whispered, over and over, his entire body shaking with terror. “You don’t, you don’t, you don’t.”

Please.