Page 3 of Their Alpha

Fletcher’s brow flew up, and I saw something ignite in his eyes. He was impressed, but it was more than that. The wheels were definitely turning in his head, even if I had no idea what he was thinking.

“That could be incredibly useful,” he said, half to himself. “And how quickly do you recover?”

“Relatively quickly,” I said.

I was stopped from elaborating when a server came over to take our order. The chipper young beta had no idea what kind of conversation she was interrupting, but that was the point of meeting in public.

Once our orders were taken and the server went on her way, Fletcher turned serious again.

“The fantasy will involve you being strapped to a milking chair for most of his—” He stopped, grimacing at himself for what I assumed was a slip.

I shifted forward, staring openly at him. “Can I assume from that and from your wedding ring that you’re married to an omega?”

Fletcher frowned. “I am,” he said. Everything from his voice to his posture was tight.

“Is this for his or her heat?” I asked.

“His heat, yes,” Fletcher said. His frown deepened for a moment before he let out a breath. “His name is Gideon, and he’s everything to me.Everything.”

I nodded to let him know I got it.

“Gideon was abused as a young man,” Fletcher went on. “His first couple of heats were…unbearable. We…met each other shortly after his second one.” He stopped for a long pause, as if caught up in a bad memory before saying, “We’ve been together ever since. I would do anything for him. I do everything for him now.”

“Including making certain he can get through heat with minimal trauma?” I added.

Fletcher nodded. “I do what I can, but I’m only an omega” His frustration over that was palpable.

“So the timing of our fantasy will coincide with Gideon’s heat,” I said, helping him along.

“Yes,” Fletcher said. He took a breath and focused on the deal. “He might not be in the same room with you during the fantasy. He might not even want you to see him. But I understand that you have to be close enough to scent his heat to go into rut.”

I nodded. “You can blindfold me if you want. That would just add to my pleasure.”

Again, Fletcher looked surprised. Not so much at my offer to be blindfolded, but that I would be so accommodating.

“Yes,” he said. “That might work. I’ll have to ask Gideon to see what he says. He’s already showing signs of going into heat, so I could give you a call about the fantasy as soon as tonight, though I expect it will be tomorrow.”

“How many of his heats have you taken him through?” I asked, though I could have figured it out, based on the number of entries Fletcher had on the Dark Fantasies Club app. He wasn’t playing to get his own rocks off, he was looking for alphas to help him with his husband.

“Eight,” Fletcher answered. He flinched, then added, “Some have been more successful than others.”

“And what about your heats?” I asked, even though I knew it was none of my business. I felt such a strong draw to Fletcher, such a need to help him and his husband, that the usual boundaries I would’ve had were gone.

Fletcher stared at me for a long time before answering. He was saved from having to answer immediately when the server returned with our food.

We ate in silence for a few minutes before he finally answered with, “I don’t have the same aversion to alphas that Gid does. When my heats come, I make certain he’s safe and protected, then I head up to the Bangers & Mash facility. I’m lucky that I have short, mild heats, though. I’ve been able to take care of it with the Heat Lightning system for the last two times.”

“Handy little system, Heat Lightning,” I said with a grin. “I donated to them once a few years ago, when the program was new.”

“Really?” Fletcher seemed surprised, but instead of asking more questions, he chewed on his ham and cheese.

I finished the rest of my sandwich and washed it down with some soda before asking, “Do your heats and your husband’s coincide at all?”

I couldn’t imagine the stress and strain of both of them going into heat at once.

Fletcher shook his head. “Fortunately, no. I usually go into heat a month after Gid. I’m not due for at least that long. My cycle isn’t regular, though. I’m what scientists call a ‘weak omega’.”

I nodded. I’d heard the term, but only in passing. As reproductive science advanced, scientists were discovering more and more about variations in omegas. Some, like Simon, had genes that made them naturally crave submission. Others, like Fletcher, I assumed, were genetically programmed to be more like betas. Some people theorized that there would come a time when both omega and alpha traits phased out of humanity until only betas were left.

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