Page 32 of The Heart of Winter

But underneath it all, there was something else. Something subtle that may have made Jacob just a little more open with me than with other employees.

A hint of forbidden attraction.

I’d sensed it from him over the years, on a very discreet level, of course. Jacob had never done anything physical to confirm it, so aside from the energy I picked up, I had no concrete proof there was anything more behind his behavior. But some things… you justknow.

I remembered one day in particular when his heat was approaching. We were in Jacob’s office, and he asked me to brush something off his back, he’d been sitting in another manager’s chair during a meeting, and apparently, that guy had cats.

It was palpable in the air, how hard it was for him not to turn around and… His flushed cheeks, quickened breathing, dilated pupils. His pelvis tilted a bit, instinctively, as omegas do during heat waves. He even made a soft, involuntary sound, but as a beta, I couldn’t quite interpret it. I was almost certain it expressed either arousal or some kind of approval… of me, or maybe just of my touch as I brushed the fur off his back.

To his credit, he didn’t act on it. And I respected him for that. Jacob was a man of strong moral principles, controlling his desires with the same firm hand he used to run his company. He loved his husband, and I just knew he’d never do anything to risk that relationship—or, for that matter, our professional dynamic.

Climbing into his car, which was a good two classes above mine, I sighed quietly. I drove a modest, older model; I’d put my money into my apartment instead. Unfortunately, as life had recently reminded me, that choice had put me in a tricky spot. Because of my car’s breakdown, I’d been relying on others, and that wasn’t ideal.

We pulled out of the parking lot. Jacob kept his eyes on the road, but there was a faint trace of distraction on his face, like something was weighing on his mind.

And I knew, it was only a matter of time before he asked the question. Sure enough, a few moments later, it found me.

"How’s your collaboration with Sariel going?"

What should I do? Two options: I could brush it off, sweep my doubts and concerns under the rug, or I could be honest about how things were going, just in case something genuinely troubling was happening.

"It’s hard to say for now, Jacob." As soon as I finished the sentence, he shifted slightly in his seat, like something about that answer made him uneasy, or he would rather not hear where it was going.

"I’ve been having car trouble. The battery died. Two days ago, Sariel offered to help and used jumper cables to start it."

Jacob chuckled. "Ah, right. That’s Victor’s influence. He’s full of odd little quirks and taught Sariel a bunch of tricks that are basically useless in a city like this."

"Sometimes they come in handy, though. My car’s definitely past its prime." I paused for a second, choosing my words carefully. "But now Sariel keeps offering to help, and he’s being pretty persistent about it. Even though I set clear boundaries on his first day, asked him to keep things professional, and avoid unnecessary interaction. Unfortunately, he ignored that."

Jacob was quiet for a moment. At one point, he shot me a brief, searching look, as if trying to read between the lines.

"What do you think is behind it?" he asked, calm and direct.

I sighed. "It could be that he just genuinely wants to help, but something about the way he acted on the first day makes me think he might not be taking the job entirely seriously. He chuckled during our conversation, and he acts like we’re buddies…" I glanced at him, noticing how tense his face became. Then, for some reason, I decided to leave the whole T-shirt thing behind. Clearing my throat, I added, "But I don’t want to overanalyze. I just wanted to give you a heads-up. This is where things stand for now. Everything’s still under control."

We drove in silence for a while.

I didn’t live far, but downtown traffic always made the trip longer. I stared at the line of cars ahead, feeling a twinge of annoyance that the whole conversation had even started.

Fuck. I’d just tattled on Sariel to his father. A cheap shot. A low blow.

And it began to feel weirdly unfair, jumping straight to the assumption that his intentions were negative.

To my surprise, I found myself reflecting on my own bias. How I often felt about alphas in general, and especially about rich kids like Sariel, born into a privileged world completely different from mine. Because I wore it as a badge of honor, that everything I’d achieved, every single dollar I’d earned, came from my own effort.

But the more I tried to unpack my own prejudices about Sariel’s gender and his background, the more I felt disappointed in myself. Small. Full of hidden envy. Unable to rise above and see him as a human being before his circumstances.

Damn.

Did I really have to cling to those default assumptions? Deny him the kind of fair shot I’d give to someone else off the street?

I cleared my throat and said, "But I don’t want this to become a whole thing. Honestly, Jacob, these are just small issues. Nothing worth dwelling on."

But it was too late to take my words back. And judging by Jacob’s expression, he hadn’t taken them lightly.

"We’ll see about that. Thanks for telling me. I like to keep a finger on the pulse when it comes to Sariel. He’s just… this wild energy. Unpredictable. I was always happy he was so artistic, but he’s become more and more like a turbulent river that just refuses to be tamed."

We were getting close to my apartment building, and my sense of unease kept growing. I felt the urge to squirm in my seat like a kid, but I forced myself to stay still, maintaining my usual neutral expression even though I was extremely frustrated.

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