Page 37 of His Unicorn Alpha
Day leaned back against the examination bed and tilted his head as he looked at the first of us to find an alpha. “Didn’t Eric tell you their sexes when he was doing your ultrasounds?”
Ollie blushed and shook his head. “Beck and I decided we didn’t want to know. Everything else had been a surprise to that point, so we decided that could be, too.”
“I’d want to know,” Day said after taking a moment to consider our other friend’s reasoning. “If I ever had another one —which willneverhappen— I would want to find out.”
“Never say never, Day,” Ollie teased.
Day snorted. “This coming from the guy who is trusting untested birth control.” He winced and shot me an apologetic glance. “No offence.”
“None taken,” I assured him. “I understand why you feel that doing so is a risk.”
Ollie sat on the edge of Eric’s desk and drummed his fingers on the wooden surface. “I’ve seen the science. I trust you and Eric. And, really, condoms don’t mix well with knots and multiple orgasms during the whole heat and rut thing.” He gnawed on his lower lip for a moment before telling Damon, “You’d be better off taking the meds and using condoms if you want to eliminate as much chance of getting pregnant as possible. But even then…” He shrugged.
“You may have a point,” Day mused in return. Then, looking at me once more, he smirked, “Are we placing bets on how long it takes you to sing the song of my people?”
“The…song of your people?” I looked at Oliver in askance. He held up his hands and twisted his lips in the universal gesture for ‘I have no fucking clue’.
Day snorted. “The ‘no more kids for me’ song.”
“Iammiddle-aged, even for a dragon,” I conceded, then looked down at my stomach as melancholy swept over me. Placing my hand over the soft bulge, which had been present prior to my test-tube conception, I sighed softly. “They may be the only chance I get.”
“Well now I just feel mean,” Day complained, which startled a laugh out of me. He pushed away from the exam bed and closed the distance between us to rub between my shoulder blades. “You’re still a dragon. Middle-aged or not, I think you’ve still got at least another hundred years of baby making in you.” His eyes went wide and he looked in Ollie’s direction in horror. “A hundred years of heats. Can you imagine?”
Ollie shuddered. “No, thanks. Hard pass.”
Head swiveling to look between one and then the other, I said, “I’ve never experienced heat. But is it not…a pleasurable thing?”
“It’s…intense,” Ollie answered. “I don’t like how out of control I feel when I’m in heat.”
“Yeah,” Day agreed, rolling his shoulders as if experiencing physical discomfort. “And having to rely on my alpha to make the unbearable ache stop is frustrating as hell. If I could just sit on a dildo to make the feelings go away, I would.”
“Youdefinitelywouldn’t get pregnant if you could do that,” Ollie told him by way of agreement.
“I hate that I have to fight my biological instinct every few months,” Day grumbled. “Like, you think my omega would getwith the program, butnooooo. I think that makes my in-heat mood swings even worse, now that I think about it.”
I was fascinated by all of this. It was somewhat new information to me. With Eric dealing with the majority of the people-facing roles in the clinic, most of my job had become research-based. I probably should have shown more interest in learning about how we truly functioned as omegas, but I had been too jealous of those lucky few who could experience mating heats to want to learn.
That, I realized belatedly, was a mistake.
“I am curious as to whether the birth control will assist with minimizing these symptoms of heat,” I pondered, watching as Oliver’s eyes lit up.
“It would be amazing if it does,” he admitted. “The many,manyorgasms are amazing, but they don’t really outweigh the pain points.”
“I’ll make a note to discuss it with Eric,” I decided. “If not the birth control, perhaps another hormone supplement…”
“And we’ve lost him,” Day joked, referencing my tendency to hyperfixate on scientific theories.
Ollie checked his watch. “We should probably rescue Jazz from my little hellhounds,” he said ruefully, but the words were underlaid with affection. His twins were a handful, I knew, but he adored them. “I really do hope she hasn’t plied them with ice cream and milkshakes again.” He shuddered.
“We’ll take them out for a run in the fields if that’s the case,” Day suggested. “They love it when we shift for them.”
“I don’t love it when they pull my tail. Or my ears.”
I snorted. “Which is worse: that or the sugar high?”
Day and Ollie exchanged glances and, in unison, replied, “The sugar high.”
“So, apparently, I have to call my mom,” Micah told me later, when he came to the clinic with Beckett in tow.
