Page 82 of The Sterling Acquisition
“Combat boots, size twelve,” Dante said, then glanced at Orion. “What’s your size?”
“Ten,” Orion replied, still trying to figure out what was strange about the vendor.
The woman began pulling out options, and Orion saw her hands pause momentarily when she got close to him. Her nostrils flared, and her expression shifted from business-neutral to something almost sympathetic.
“Glitched Alpha,” Dante said, close to Orion’s ear. “She has very little scent production. She can tell designations, but most people can’t smell her.”
Orion watched the way her movements became more careful around him. His diminished heat signature was affecting her—not triggering attraction or aggression like it would with other Alphas, but something gentler. Compassion, maybe.
“These should work,” she said, holding out a pair of sturdy boots that looked like they’d been made by combining corporate designs. “Gensyn soles with SVI uppers. More comfortable than either company makes on their own.”
Orion tried them on, surprised by how well they fit. The vendor watched him with an expression that reminded him of the way some of the kinder SVI citizens looked at him during his worst public scenes with Leo—like they wanted to help but knew they couldn’t.
“How much?” Dante asked.
“Normally one-fifty for the pair,” she said, then looked at Orion. “But for you, seventy-five. And the pharmacy you’re looking for is three blocks down, a blue building with the red cross. Ask for Doctor Troiana—she’s legitimate, went to actual medical school before the Adjustment.”
Dante handed over the money without question, and Orion caught the way his eyes softened when he looked at the vendor. Not attraction—recognition. A courtesy between people who understood what it meant to be outside the normal social order.
“Thank you,” Orion said to the vendor, meaning it.
She nodded. “Take care of yourself, kid. And you,” she looked at Dante, “take care of him. He’s special.”
As they walked away, Orion found himself hyper-aware of Dante beside him. The Alpha was scanning their surroundings constantly, but every time Orion asked a question or pointed something out, Dante’s expression would change. The sharp tactical focus would soften into something almost fond, and he’d explain whatever caught Orion’s attention with genuine patience.
It’s just his rut,Orion told himself, trying to ignore the way Dante’s rare smiles made something warm build behind his sternum.He’s biologically programmed to be protective right now. It doesn’t mean anything.
But it was getting harder to convince himself of that with each gentle explanation, each careful touch when Dante guided him around obstacles, each moment when those gray eyes would meet his with something that looked dangerously close to affection.
A wave of heat washed through him suddenly, making his head swim. His skin flushed, and he felt the slick gathering again, trickling down his inner thighs. The respite was ending. He wasn’t used tobeing this active during his heat. He usually just rode out the days in misery, curled in a ball, hoping for it to be a short heat instead of the longer ones.
They were about halfway to the pharmacy district when a young man approached them. He couldn’t have been much younger than Orion, with a kind of ethereal beauty that seemed almost otherworldly. His wavy blond hair was long and adorned with small braids threaded with beads, and his clothes were flowing fabrics in earth tones that seemed to move with their own life. When he got closer, Orion caught his scent—sweet like cinnamon, definitely Omega, but with an underlying complexity that was unfamiliar.
“Brother,” the young man said softly, his voice carrying a melodic quality that made Orion think of wind chimes. His hazel eyes took in Orion’s disheveled state, scanning over the bruises still visible on his throat and arm. “You look like you could use some healing energy.”
Before Orion could respond, the stranger was reaching for his wrist, slipping a bracelet made of small clay beads over his hand. “An offering,” he said, his fingers lingering on Orion’s skin. “To help center your spirit.”
Dante’s hand was on Orion’s shoulder, firm but not rough. “We appreciate the gesture, but we need to keep moving.”
The Omega’s eyes flicked to Dante, and something knowing passed across his features. “Of course. May your path lead to enlightenment.”
He drifted away as gracefully as he approached, leaving Orion staring down at the bracelet on his wrist. The beads were warm to the touch and had an almost hypnotic quality to their arrangement.
“What was that about?” Orion asked as Dante guided him away, noting how the Alpha kept glancing back as if to make sure they weren’t being followed.
“Elysian Dynamics missionary,” Dante mumbled “Their approach to resource management would give Project Tether a run for its money in terms of fucked up practices. Just with more patchouli oil and henna.”
Orion had never heard anyone in SVI territory even mention what Elysian Dynamics practices were. “What does that mean?”
“Later.” Dante’s expression darkened. “Right now, we need to focus on getting you medicated.”
The pharmacy blinked in the distance as they walked, high up on a pole that towered over the other buildings like a beacon of hope. Orion felt another wave of heat roll through him, stronger than the last.Get it together, man. Just a few more blocks.
They continued through the market, and Orion was distracted from his discomfort by the sound of crying. A little boy, maybe six years old, was standing next to a candy vendor’s cart with tears streaming down his face. His small fist was clutched around something, and when he opened it, Orion could see the crushed remains of what had probably been a lollipop.
“I dropped it,” the boy sobbed to no one in particular. “I saved up for three days and I dropped it.”
Dante has more than enough, I’m sure he can spare some. Orion nudged Dante’s arm, preparing to ask for a few iscs to help the kid out, but when he looked at Dante, he saw the Alpha’s gaze already clocking the situation.
