Chapter Text
Shockingly, the growl in the room is from Shane and not Ilya.
Right, freshly mated omega. Alpha in nest that is not his. A recipe for disaster.
Hayden, for his part, beside the dropped jaw and the slightly wrinkled nose, stands perfectly still–he's aware that the wrong move can cost him.
“Go, we will come later,” says Ilya, and despite how much Hayden looks like he wants to protest, he values his throat more.
“It’s okay,” coos Ilya, dropping soft kisses along the column of Shane’s neck, mouthing at the mark till the rumbling stops, the sour smell in the air replaced by honey.
Ilya takes a deep breath, hopes the scent sinks into his lungs and latches on permanently, making a home.
He can’t believe his life has come to a point where he has to defend Hayden Pike.
“Baby,” says Ilya, tightening his arms around Shane’s waist. “Such a good omega, not letting anyone else into nest. My strong omega, protect home and family.”
Shane lets out a trill, turning around and burying his face in Ilya’s chest. Ilya feels him trying to discreetly sniff at his skin, and fondness blossoms at how his mate is desperate for Ilya’s scent too.
“Jackie,” says Hayden as he opens the door. “You won’t believe–”
“Hayden Pike.”
Shit. Full name never means anything good. “Yes, babe,” says Hayden meekly.
“You said you were going to Shane’s house,” she says, bouncing Arthur in her arms, and her eyes narrowed.
God, she’s so fucking hot when she’s mad at him. The twins are at a sleepover, if they can put Arthur down, and he’d sleep for even an hour–
“Hayden!” she hisses, snapping him out of his daze, his eyes inadvertently catching the loose neckline of one of his old Voyageurs shirts that Jackie has on–cloying flowers in the air–
“Shit,” says Hayden, moving close to his mate and ignoring the small “swear jar” that she mutters. “Babe, I went to Shane’s, I swear. You won’t believe–”
“Why you smell like a pissed-off omega?” she says, miffed and Hayden feels like an absolute idiot.
“Jackie,” he says, gently taking Arthur from her arms and pressing a soft kiss to his head. The scent of rotten flowers eases a bit, and Hayden can smell hints of her sweet magnolia scent. Thank god.
“I went to Shane’s. He was the pissed-off omega.”
The narrowed eyes are back, but not the sour scent. Hayden can work with this.
“Shane’s a beta,” says Jackie slowly. Hayden scoffs.
“He almost tore off my throat for using my spare key to enter his house. And guess who was with him.”
“No,” says Jackie, “An alpha?!”
“Not just any alpha,” says Hayden, and he fervently wishes for brain bleach. Ugh, he can’t believe he ever thought Shane wasn’t interested in sex when he had a mating bite on his thigh. There are some things that you do not need to know about your best friend.
“Oh god,” says Hayden with profound revulsion. “Ilya Rozanov is Shane’s mate.”
There aren't many times when Hayden has left Jackie speechless. She’s the more brilliant one of the two of them, constantly astounding Hayden. However, her eyes are wide, and there’s an almost frantic gleam in them.
“I knew it,” she says, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “Those Shayden fuckers always doubted me–”
Once Shane has finished sniffing all over Ilya, rubbing his wrists and cheeks over the available skin, he hums in satisfaction.
“I need to meet your pack alpha, yes?” asks Ilya slowly. David Hollander seemed like a kind man, and even though he didn’t have the best idea of good pack alphas or fathers, he was glad that Shane did.
Shane blanches. “Fuck,” he says with feeling, running his hands through the hair that Ilya has so carefully pushed back in place. “I forgot to tell my mom.”
Ilya swallows, his throat suddenly dry. “Your mother?” he asks carefully.
“Oh yeah,” says Shane. “She’s the pack head, I should have told her after presenting, I hate these stupid pack courtesies–”
Despite his fear, Ilya finds himself saying, “Not stupid.” He would have done anything to be able to tell his mother about Shane
Ottawa, 2022
The fact that Ilya was conscious is the only reason that Johnson survived with a light mauling as opposed to Shane fucking decapitating him on ice.
On the other hand, Ilya could not be prouder of his feral omega husband.
Too many people had forgotten that the reason mating bonds existed was to soften the omegas’ rage.
“Not so boring,” said Ilya, pressing a kiss to Shane’s forehead as he sat on his lap, the whole locker room staring at them in bewildered fascination.
“Has this happened before?” asked Troy, concerned about the lack of panic shown by either of them about the blood that had caked under Shane’s nails, which he had promptly washed off once he was off the ice.
Ilya cackled, pulling up the sleeve of his jersey and displaying a faded bite mark. “He gave me this,” said Ilya with pride, ignoring the noises of surprise from the peanut gallery.
“I’m sorry,” said Shane, voice muffled from where his face was buried into Ilya’s shirt.
“It is alright, kotik,” cooed Ilya, “You know I love it.”
“Why are you surprised?” asked Haas slowly. “Has no one heard of feral omegas in America?”
“Early suppressants,” said Shane and Ilya kissed the top of his head.
“Don’t be so dismissive, you would have turned out the same either way.”
“You’re telling me,” said Troy incredulously, “That you managed to mate a feral omega.”
“During presentation heat,” said Ilya with a smirk, only to have it wiped off his face when Shane whacked his pec.
“That’s not what happened.”
“Okay, fine. You first beat me up and then decide that I am okay to be with?”
“No!”
The peanut gallery titters, looking at the scar.
“Alright, I may have done some damage.”
”How did you even manage, Roz?”
Vegas, 2014
It takes a great deal of wriggling and tussling to pin down Shane. Ilya is proud of the lack of damage, limited to a black eye, split lip and bloody nose, along with some superficial scratches. He still had his balls!
Shane is still snarling and lashing out, sinking his sharp teeth into the meat of Ilya’s shoulder.
Ilya doesn't push or complain.
He simply kisses the crown of Shane's head, whispering soft nothings in russian, the scent of the tea Shane's mother and grandmother brewed in the winter blooming in the air.
“It's him”, whispers Shane's omega, before he collapses like a marionette doll.