Page 38 of Bitter Heat
Janus didn’t feel the usual pulse of power that had always come over him in the past when he’d caused another man to flinch. No, this time he winced, too, and wished that he’d called up in advance to warn Kerry that it was him on the stairs. Now he stood there, his back to the stairwell, wondering if he should turn around and go right back down since he’d ascertained that Kerry was, indeed, still alive.
But seeing Kerry, scenting him, was such a relief. He took a deep breath of the berries and musk and wallowed it around in his mouth and throat. It was such a good smell, the best he’d ever known. NotÉrosgápe, but…something strong and visceral all the same. Janus wondered what Kerry smelled like when he wasn’t pregnant. Musk alone or perhaps just berries? Or something else entirely? He wanted to know the answer to that question far more than he should.
Kerry broke eye contact, whistled softly, and Kiwi flew to him, landing on his shoulder and nuzzling his ear.
“He’s obedient,” Janus observed.
Kerry rose stiffly from the windowsill as if his body was still aching from its ordeal by the lake, and he kissed his bird’s beak all while watching Janus warily. Finally, he whispered, “I’m sorry for waking you. It’s been a long week. You must be tired.”
Remembering his anxiety of the night before, and his worry when he heard the heavy thud of the trunk knocking over, Janus found himself asking tersely as if he had the right to know, “Wolf-god, where the hell were you last night?”
Kerry stared at him for a very long time. The silence became heavy and reminded Janus that Kerry didn’t owe him an answer. He was about to withdraw the question when Kerry offered the answer anyway.
“Blumzound.” Kerry sounded oddly guilty.
“What? The train depot at the bottom of the mountain?”
“Yes.”
Janus cocked his head, the question out before he could stop it. “Why?”
“I had a meeting.”
Janus studied Kerry’s reluctant posture and uncertain eyes. Understanding bloomed in him, and while it hurt, he didn’t blame the man. “With a doctor?”
Kerry squirmed slightly. “I saw a doctor while I was there, yes.” He put up his chin. “The babe and I are fine.”
It stung a bit that Kerry hadn’t trusted his judgment on that matter as if Janus had no investment in Kerry and the child’s health, as if he wouldn’t keep them both safe no matter what or who or—
Janus frowned, confused for a moment.
But then he wrangled his mind and got back on track. Then again, why should Kerry trust him on such an important matter? Janus wasn’t a doctor or even a qualified nurse, and Kerry knew that. If Kerry didn’t feel comfortable going to Dr. Crescent given the situation with Fan and the abortifacients, then Janus could understand that, too. His own protective feelings were likely due to proximity—an alpha living with a pregnant omega with no contracted alpha orÉrosgápeas a buffer. The pheromones alone would create a protective bond. Nature kicking in to nurture life.
Janus stepped closer, still needing to be sure. Just knowing the why didn’t stop the urge. “No more bleeding? Or swelling? No fever?”
Kerry shook his head. With a small chirrup, the bird left Kerry’s shoulder to swoop around the room again. “I’m still sore,” Kerry confessed. “As if I’ve been lifting heavy things, but I’m certain the child is fine.” His lips quirked, almost like a smile, but not quite. “The doctor heard a heartbeat.” His eyes lowered, and he bit down hard on his bottom lip before he lifted his lashes and whispered, “He made me listen to it, too.”
“Madeyou?” Why would the doctor do that? Usually, an omega wanted to hear the proof of life, but if one didn’t, then why force him?
Kerry shrugged and turned away.
Janus clenched his fists and released them again, letting go of the bizarre urge to seek out the doctor who’d examined Kerry and rough him up for forcing him to do anything at all, and maybe just for touching him.
He blinked rapidly. Wolf-god, he might need to invest in some alpha quell if he was going to feel this strong of a tug toward Kerry. Meant to stopÉrosgápefrom physically bonding too soon, the drug was also good for helping an alpha keep their head during heats, and when faced with an unattached and unrelated pregnant omega. He’d been around plenty of pregnant men in his life and never felt this way about any of them, though.
He shook his head free of the pheromone-induced cobwebs and managed to offer up a polite blank slate, the way he’d intended. Too bad he didn’t have his flower boughs with him, too. “Kerry, don’t worry. I’m glad you and the child are well. And I understand that you wanted a second opinion.”
Kerry flinched again but then turned back to face Janus. He clenched his fists at his sides, and his shirt rose and fell with the quickness of his breath. “It wasn’t that.” He sounded almost pleading. “I promise. I trust you.” He stepped closer. “I do.”
Janus smiled, trying to summon up all his memories of Caleb’s goodness, all of his generosity and sweetness, all of his willingness to forgive. Janus would show Kerry that he could be generous to a fault, too. “It’s all right if you don’t. Trust me, I mean.” His entire person rebelled against that statement, but he schooled his expression and hoped he appeared pleasant and open-minded.
“Is it?” Kerry frowned. “Why?”
“You barely know me. Why should you trust me?”
Kerry gazed at him, giving him a long once-over. He remained silent. He crossed his arms over his chest, shoulders hunching vulnerably. He smelled even more divine, almost heavenly with that scowl on his face.
“You were singing,” Janus said desperately as the silence drew out, and he was tempted to pull Kerry close to nuzzle his neck and behind his ears. “The song came through the floor, and I woke up to the sound of it. It was beautiful. I couldn’t resist coming up to hear more.”
