A raucous noise jolted Morris Danvers upright in his desk chair and sent a pile of paperwork scattering to the floor. Something was stuck to his cheek, and Morris peeled a piece of paper off his face. He’d fallen asleep at the office again, which his boss would lecture him about if he found out. Ronin Cross was a fantastic lawyer and the kind of mated alpha Morris aspired to be.

Ronin was also a big fan of “don’t take your work home with you.”

Morris tried, and he mostly ended up staying at the office with work and avoiding his empty apartment.

The noise continued, and he tracked it to his personal mobile, which had somehow ended up in his desk drawer instead of his pocket. He noted the time—after midnight—on the wall clock as he flipped the phone open without checking the ID. “This is Morris Danvers.”

“Mr. Danvers, this is Dory Acker,” a young voice said. “I’m your brother Morgan’s regular babysitter for Aeron.”

His unexpected nap had left Morris a bit foggy, so he didn’t think much of the call at first. “Hi Dory, what can I do for you?”

“Well, sir, I’m a bit worried. Morgan and Brody were supposed to be home by eleven-thirty from their date night, and my parents are worried because they don’t like me out past midnight. I’ve tried both of their mobiles, and I can’t reach them.”

Morris sat up straight in his desk chair. It wasn’t like Morgan to be late. His older beta brother believed in punctuality like no one Morris had ever met, and he considered on-time to be late. But Morris could come up with a list of reasons why Morgan and Brody were late and hadn’t called, including dead mobiles and Brody’s spontaneous streak.

Despite his alpha hormones, Morris was prone to keeping a level head and working his way through a crisis as carefully as possible.

“Okay, first, are your parents okay with you staying at the house with the baby, or do you need me to come over and pick him up?”

“I can stay for a little while longer, but my sire said he was picking me up at one, no matter what,” Dory replied. “I’m really sorry, Mr. Danvers.”

“Don’t be sorry, you agreed to sit until eleven-thirty, not one in the morning. I’m going to make some calls and see where they are, okay? I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”

“Thank you.”

And because Morris was in love with his baby nephew, he couldn’t resist asking, “How’s Aeron?”

“Sleeping soundly.”

“Thanks. Did my brother happen to mention their plans?” They had a weekly date night set, and that was tonight, but they didn’t always have specific plans. Brody liked to surprise Morgan sometimes.

“I wish they had, but no.”

“Okay, we’ll talk soon.”

Morris hung up, then dialed Morgan’s phone. It went straight to voicemail, which wasn’t worrisome by itself. And even though Dory said Brody hadn’t answered either, Morris called his brother-in-law’s phone, too. Voicemail. With no idea of their plans, Morris had no specific location to call to look for them.

He called a beta couple that Morgan and Brody regularly hung out with. Both couples had adopted infants this past year, and they’d bonded over the experience. Neither of them had heard from Morgan or Brody tonight, but promised to call right away if they did.

Logic said to call the hospital and inquire if either of them had been admitted to the emergency room, so Morris made that call next. He was transferred twice before he reached a receptionist who took their names.

“I do have a Brody Danvers on record in emergency. What is your brother-in-law’s gender?”

“Beta.”

“This may be him.” Morris’s heart kicked up a few notches. Brody was hurt. No wonder Morgan wasn’t home yet, or answering his phone. “How badly is he hurt?”

“He’s listed as critical.”

No.

“I’ll be right over, thank you.” His big brother was probably freaking out right now with his husband in critical condition.

Morris grabbed his keys and coat, and he barely remembered to lock the office behind him. His car was the only one still parked on the street near their business building, and he raced to it. Once he was on the road, he called Dory with the update. Dory volunteered to take Aeron home with him, and Morris agreed. It made more sense than bringing a one-year-old baby to the emergency room.

He didn’t allow himself to fly off into the worst-case scenarios for Brody, he simply concentrated on driving. Traffic was light, given the hour, and he easily found the correct underground parking garage. Got on the elevator and waited for it take him up to the ground floor, where he stepped out near the lobby and the street entrance to emergency. Half-a-dozen people sat in waiting room chairs, and Morris didn’t see Morgan, so he went straight for the reception desk.

“I’m looking for Brody Danvers,” he said. “He’s my brother-in-law, and he was brought in earlier tonight. His husband Morgan should be with him.”

The receptionist typed the name into a computer. The hospital had implemented the machines faster than most other provincial organizations, including the constabulary. Ronin said that when they’d made a bit more of a profit, he’d look in to one for the office, but they were incredibly expensive and not yet super-popular in law offices.

“Mr. Danvers is in cubicle seven, right that way.”

“Thank you.”

Morris pushed through a pair of doors that led to a row of cubicles, many of them with closed curtains, but a few were empty. A nurse pointed him toward number seven, and Morris walked in. Another nurse was taking readings from a machine, but no one else was in the room besides the patient. Concern began overtaking his calm as Morris approached the bed.

Brody’s face was a study of cuts and bruises, and he was attached to so many wires Morris stopped trying to count them. He was also on a ventilator and had multiple bloody bandages on his chest and torso.

This was bad.

“What happened to him?” Morris asked.

“Car wreck,” the nurse replied. “You’re family?”

“Brother-in-law. Where’s his husband?”

“I don’t know, no one else has visited him except you.”

“What?” Genuine fear gripped Morris’s heart. “But they were out on a date. How could Brody be in the wreck and not Morgan?”

“I honestly don’t have that information, sir, but I can see if there’s a patrolman around who knows what happened. Maybe they can tell you more about your brother.”

“I’d appreciate that, thank you.”

The nurse left, and Morris gently picked up Brody’s hand. He was older than Morgan by two years, but the pair had always gotten along like the best of friends, ever since they had first met at a speed dating event for single betas. They’d married four months later, and the happiest moment of their lives had been last spring when they were approved to adopt a newborn.

At least he knew where Aeron was; now Morris needed to find his brother.

“What happened tonight?” he whispered.

Brody remained unconscious, random beeps and the steady rise and fall of the ventilator the only sounds in the room. Time passed with no answers to his myriad questions, until a uniformed patrolman entered the cubicle.

“Mr. Danvers? I’m Patrolman Corinth. I was one of the officers who responded to the emergency call about the car accident.”

“Hi, Morris Danvers. Do you know where my brother Morgan is? The hospital doesn’t have him in their system, but if he isn’t hurt, he should be here.” A horrifying thought hit him. “He wasn’t arrested, was he? Did Morgan cause the accident?”

“No, he wasn’t arrested.” Corinth glanced at Brody. “Maybe we should talk outside in the hall.”

Morris’s stomach soured. “Why? Where’s my brother?”

“From what we can tell about the accident, a tire blew out on the freeway, and your brother lost control of the car. It hit the guardrail, flipped, and rolled down the embankment. Brody was thrown from the car, but your brother was trapped.” Corinth paled. “The car, um, caught fire.”

“No.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Danvers, but your brother didn’t get out of the car. His remains were taken directly to the morgue.”

“No.” No, it couldn’t be true. His big brother—a man who’d always been a stable part of Morris’s life, even when their home life was falling apart—couldn’t be dead. “They have a baby.”

“I’m so terribly sorry for your loss.”

The world blurred behind a film of tears. He swayed once, and then found himself in a chair, doubled over and unable to breathe. Morgan couldn’t be dead. It wasn’t possible. This entire thing was a horrific nightmare he was having from his desk, fueled by all the difficult cases they’d handled recently, that was all.

“Wake up, wake up, wake up,” Morris whispered, over and over as he gulped in painful lungsful of air. “This isn’t real, wake up.”

Someone squeezed his shoulder. A paper cup of water appeared in front of him. Morris took it, surprised that Corinth was still there. The guy was about his age and alpha, but he also seemed genuinely upset on Morris’s behalf.

“Can I call anyone for you?” Corinth asked. “Other family? Your mate?”

“I’m not mated.” Grief and pain squeezed his chest hard enough to make Morris gasp. “We’re all we had.”

“There must be someone.”

Morris lost it then. He crumpled the paper cup, not caring water splashed his pants, as the tears finally broke free. The sense of loss overwhelmed him, stronger and more deep-seated than any other loss in his life. Morgan had been his rock, his hero, his best friend. Even after Morgan married, they had stayed close, forever bound by their shared past and the family they’d lost.

He didn’t know how long he cried, but as he pulled himself back together, a new nurse was hovering with a box of tissues and a sympathetic smile. Once Morris could think straight, an alpha in a lab coat introduced himself as Dr. Steele.

“Brody was already in cardiac arrest when he arrived in the ER,” Dr. Steele said. “We were able to revive him, but he’s suffered severe blood loss and traumatic internal injuries.”

Morris shivered and cast a helpless look at Brody’s still body. “Why isn’t he in surgery if he has internal injuries?”

“Because we’re trying to get him stable enough for surgery. We’ve been pushing blood and fluids, but we have to be careful how much, because of the internal hemorrhaging. It’s a very tricky situation.”

“Will he be okay?”

“It’s impossible to say right now. I wish I had better news, but we are keeping a very close eye on him.”

“Thank you.” Brody needed to recover; he had a one-year-old who needed him. “Can I sit with him?”

“Of course. And feel free to talk to him. He’s unconscious, but studies show he can still hear you.”

Dr. Steele and the nurse left, and Morris moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He took Brody’s cool hand and held it in his, heart twisting hard for the bad news he was going to wake up to.

“You’re going to be fine,” he said, his own voice foreign to his ears. Strangled by grief, roughened by fear. “Aeron needs you. And we’re going to need each other to get through this.”

Morris hadn’t been lying when he told Patrolman Corinth that there wasn’t anyone to call. He was a workaholic, as many alphas were, but unlike most of his peers, Morris had always gone out of his way to avoid meeting a potential omega mate. His own sire had been a nightmare, and Morris was terrified of turning out exactly like the man if he ever mated.

No, single was safer for everyone.

And his workaholic tendencies meant he didn’t have any close friends who would come here to support him—not without a lot of grumbling. Ronin had a one-man law firm, and he stayed busy with cases. Morris and a beta man named Yosef were his only paralegals, and Yosef had no interest in being friends with Morris. Morris didn’t blame the guy, because alphas—especially unmated ones like him—had bad reputations for being pump-and-dump guys with betas.

Morris wasn’t that alpha, but he couldn’t begrudge a beta who didn’t want to be his friend.

Even the few friends he’d made at university were happily mated with at least one kid each, and they didn’t have time for him beyond the occasional beer between work and home responsibilities. A sharp pang of loneliness lodged behind his heart as a companion to his grief.

Fuck, he needed to call Dory and let his family know what was happening. Hopefully, they were okay keeping Aeron until morning. “I’ll be right back, okay?” he said to Brody’s still form. “I need to check on your son. He’s waiting for his dad to get better and come home to him.”

He kissed Brody’s cheek, then stepped out of the cubicle to make the call. Instead of giving the news directly to a sixteen-year-old, he asked to speak to Dory’s sire.

“Something happened, didn’t it?” the other alpha, Pike, said after a brief introduction.

Morris choked back another flood of tears as he told what he knew about the situation so far. “Brody is critical, and I don’t want to leave his side.”

“I understand. We’re more than equipped to watch Aeron for the night, and tomorrow, if you need us to.”

“I appreciate it so much, and I’ll pay you for your time. I can barely process this, much less manage an infant.”

“He’ll be at my house whenever you need to come for him. And there’s no charge. You’re under enough stress as it is.”

“Thank you.”

“And my condolences for your loss.”

Morris closed his eyes against another onslaught of tears. “Thanks.” He hung up before those tears fell. Rested one arm against the wall and pressed his forehead to it, desperate to get himself under control. He was alpha; he had to be the strong one.

“I’m not hurt,” a stranger’s voice said, sharp but raspy, and a bit indignant.

He looked up. A younger man in a wheelchair was being pushed into the cubicle next door. Dark complexion, dark hair, Morris caught a whiff of omega and beneath it, the fragrant scent of rose petals. He’d never scented an omega so strongly, and when the young man’s gaze met his, the omega’s eyes widened, before narrowing in obvious suspicion.

Morris took a step toward him, but the beta civilian with him got in Morris’s way. “What do you want?” the beta asked.

His belligerent, protective tone had Morris freezing in place. This wasn’t the time or place to wonder about a single, strong scent from a stranger. “Nothing, I’m sorry.”

The beta gave him a hard stare, then followed the omega and orderly into the cubicle.

Confused and still overwhelmed with grief, Morris returned to Brody’s room to wait for his brother-in-law to stabilize, so he could get the surgery he needed to survive.

“I’m fine,” Jaysan Rowe groused again as the hospital orderly helped him into a bed. He did not want to be here, had not asked to be brought here, but his beta guardian Orrin was as overprotective of Jaysan as any alpha sire—not that Jaysan knew that firsthand, because his parents had both been beta, but he saw it in the relationships of other mated omegas he knew.

“You were bleeding,” Orrin said. He stood next to the bed, work-scarred hands plucking at his nightshirt.

“Yeah, well, maybe I wanted it to hurt.”

Orrin blanched, and Jaysan regretted upsetting the older man, who had been incredibly kind to Jaysan since he and his husband fostered Jaysan fourteen months ago. Orrin didn’t deserve Jaysan’s anger, but Jaysan didn’t want to be here, damn it. And he really didn’t want to have scented that young alpha outside. Sharp but comforting, like fresh basil. He’d never scented an alpha so intensely, and the interaction had been mercifully brief.

Jaysan didn’t want a mate, thank you very much.

A beta nurse replaced the orderly. “My name is Ruez, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Can you tell me what brings you into emergency?”

“My keeper,” Jaysan said, pointing at Orrin.

Orrin grunted. “Jaysan was out for several hours this evening, long past curfew, and when he came home, he appeared disheveled, was slightly intoxicated, and he had a bloodstain on the seat of his pants.”

Ruez’s eyebrows lifted slightly, but he didn’t otherwise react. “And you’re Jaysan’s…?”

“Sorry, Orrin Jensen, his legal guardian.”

For a moment, Ruez looked back and forth between them—until he made the connection. Last year, Jaysan had been one of five omegas who’d been liberated from an illegal fight ring, where he’d been held captive for seven months and forced to fight other pregnant omegas for three of those months. Pregnant himself after being raped during his heat in a halfway house for orphaned omegas, Jaysan had given birth about a month and half later, and he’d immediately given the baby up for adoption.

At the time, he’d been convinced he didn’t need a living, breathing reminder of his captivity or abuse. But as the months progressed and he saw how happy two of his fellow rescued omegas were with their babies, he’d begun to regret that decision. Jaysan and his friends had been the public faces of three big trials last summer, and the fact that they’d been allowed to be fostered by married beta couples had also made the news. Plus, the bastards who kidnapped Jaysan had cut his vocal chords in such a way that he could barely speak above a harsh whisper.

Ruez had, apparently, figured out who Jaysan was. “All right, Jaysan, can you tell me how you came to be in the state Mr. Jensen described? Were you attacked?”

“Fuck it all, no,” Jaysan replied. “I had consensual sex, okay? It got a little rough, but I wasn’t attacked. I told Orrin I was fine and didn’t want to come here.”

“Bringing you here was a good idea, actually, consensual or not. You’ve previously given birth, and any sort of rectal bleeding should be examined in case it causes scar tissue that could be a problem down the road.”

Jaysan grumped, but stopped fighting the exam. What was the point? He was an omega, so his choices were ultimately always shot down by other people, as if he was some fucking invalid who didn’t know his own mind. Then again, going to one of his frequent sex partner’s place and agreeing to an orgy with two other alphas wasn’t the most intelligent thing Jaysan had ever done, but it was his body. If he wanted two dicks in him at once simply to fucking feel something, that was his choice.

Changing into a gown was kind of embarrassing, but he was glad to be rid of those bloodstained underpants. And glad this all happened and his clothes were bagged up before Orrin was let back in. Between Orrin and his husband Alec, Orrin was definitely the worry-wart of the pair. Alec was kind and very generous with Jaysan, but he also wasn’t the type to leave his overnight security guard job just because Jaysan came home out of sorts, and Jaysan appreciated that. He hated attention and fussing. He’d gotten his fill last summer, thank you very much.

Ruez helped him back into bed, and then tucked a warm blanket around him. They’d taken basic vitals upon admission, so now all they had to do was wait for a doctor to stop by for a basic, stupid exam. Ruez’s comment about scar tissue didn’t worry Jaysan. He didn’t want a mate, had managed multiple heats without help from an alpha partner and would continue to do so, ergo no more children to worry about birthing.

Orrin returned to wait, and Ruez excused himself.

“I feel like we’re failing you,” Orrin said out of nowhere.

Jaysan blinked several times at Orrin, but the older man’s face was one wrong word from crumbling, and it was all his fault somehow. “You aren’t failing me. You and Alec have been nothing but kind to me since you took me in.”

“You’re staying out late, having sex with multiple people, coming home drunk and bloody. How can I not feel like I’ve failed you? You went through so much these past two years, from your papa dying, to the fight ring, and then Reid’s death. I feel like this is our fault.”

“No. Orrin, you and Alec are responsible for my everyday physical safety. You keep me fed and clothed, and you provide a safe home for me. That’s all you’re required to do by law. You signed up to foster me, not save me.”

“But I care about you as a person, too, Jaysan. Do you know how hard it is to watch someone you care about slowly dying in front of you, while you’re helpless to save them?”

“Yes.” Jaysan stunned himself silent with that omission. While he’d been honest with Orrin and Alec about his papa Galvin dying suddenly of a brain aneurysm only a few weeks after Jaysan turned eighteen, he’d been vague about how his dad Leon had died when he was ten. It hurt too damned much to talk about.

And Orrin didn’t get a chance to press for details, because a doctor arrived and asked for privacy for the exam. As Jaysan expected, the doctor only found a few minor fissures that would heal up just fine on their own and shouldn’t cause any problems in the future. He did, being an older alpha, lecture Jaysan about dangerous sex with strangers, to save his body for his mate to make babies, blah, blah, blah.

Jaysan tuned him out.

The doctor left to speak with Orrin outside, and Ruez returned with a set of scrubs for Jaysan to wear home, instead of his soiled clothes.

“I know you went to hell and back,” Ruez said softly, “but you’re lucky to have a guardian who really seems to care about you.”

“I guess.”

“Take care of yourself, okay? We’ll get you discharged in a few minutes.”

“Thanks.”

As Jaysan finished changing into the scrubs, a monitor began beeping wildly in the cubicle next to his. Voices shouted and sneakers squeaked on linoleum as people burst into action. He poked his head out of the curtain.

The young, red-headed alpha from before was standing outside the cubicle, nearly doubled over, crying silent tears as the staff worked on whoever was in the cubicle that he cared about. Jaysan’s own eyes burned for the man’s obvious grief, but he was a stranger, and Jaysan didn’t want to get too close to that sweet basil scent again.

Or know what identifying that scent meant for him and his future.

So Jaysan walked away.