Stuck on this terradome

by niptolothus

Summary:

“Do you think that is…” he said, measuring each word and swallowing before continuing, “…unattractive to you?”

The chat bubble started moving quickly. It stopped. Then moved again.

SharkDaddyBoss1:
Do you want me to be gentle or to tell the truth?

Alastor raised an eyebrow. “The truth,” he replied. “Always.”

Only a few seconds passed.

SharkDaddyBoss1:
I’m really into milfs
you are so fucking hot

Notes:

* Omegas or anyone who gives birth will be referred to as “mother” here.

Chapter 1

The table was still warm from the hot coffee, although, from his point of view, he wasn’t the type who liked it too hot, maybe something a bit more lukewarm. But the heat in the liquid lingered even after the time they had spent talking. Steam even rose in lazy whitish streaks from the teapot while Alastor leaned closer to the baby chair and passed the damp cloth with iron patience over the mouth of the small, almost round baby. Alastor always found his shape amusing, he was like a little puffed-up ball of fur. The little fawn of almost two years old, not quite two yet, fluttered his long, soft lashes. His ears drooping to the sides still stained with sweet crumbs and his mouth shaped like a little duck’s. He made a satisfied little noise when the cloth brushed his chin. Theo was never one to complain about being cleaned, he loved his mother being in constant contact with him if it meant having his faint scent on his fur.

 

“Slower, little creature,” Alastor murmured, with a voice that adjusted his tone so as not to sound too formal. “There’s no rush when the whole plate is for you, little one. Don’t hurry when you eat.” The baby didn’t understand what he was saying, he was barely beginning to babble, but he seemed to obey his mama unconsciously anyway.

 

Theo tilted his head forward, stretching out his tiny little claws, seeking his mother chest for milk even if he had food in front of him, drawn by that sweet, maternal smell he always found there. But it still wasn’t time for milk, he couldn’t be feeding too often or he would get used to it too quickly. So Alastor moved his chest slightly out of Theo’s reach so he wouldn’t start making habits with his little hands. He allowed himself a brief smile as he watched the pout and adjusted the button of his shirt, the fluff on his chest was abundant and that created a bulge that made it look like a large bust. But his chest wasn’t very big, just enough to fill and feed his little pup. People often mistook him for a female because of that as well, especially since his appearance was quite androgynous. He adjusted the cloth, cleaned a bit more, and then set it aside.

 

From the other end of the table, Mimzy snorted so loudly that the teaspoons clinked when she planted her perfectly manicured hands on it. Narrowing her eyes with a grimace as she thought about what her friend had just told her.

 

“This is completely unacceptable, Allie!” she said, throwing both hands over her head dramatically, wanting to pull out strand after strand of her freshly done salon hair because how could it be possible? “Those damn degenerates can’t be serious! They can’t do that to you. Cutting your pay again in the same month, knowing how little they already pay you. It’s criminal! Do they think you live off eating grass and leaves or what? This is not a good time for that.”

 

Alastor sighed wearily, as if this conversation had repeated itself a thousand times. One of his long ears twitched, as if exhaling a resignation cultivated over years of the weight of work. Finally, his brown ears fell back and he finished feeding Theo first, carefully standing up, taking the little pup out of the baby chair and settling him on his hip while gathering the plastic dishes. The dining table was partially in the kitchen, so he didn’t have far to go to the sink. The little baby clung to his neck with clumsy fingers, pleased with the new height from which to observe. Pressing himself to his mama’s neck and burying his muzzle in the scent gland.

 

It had been a long time since his body stopped producing an attractive scent for the various genders out there, or producing scent at all. After what happened, only a tiny hint of smell gathered during the nighttime hours, like an old machine shutting down and slowly dying but doing the best it could to leave a mote of its former aroma in the air, but it never went beyond that. Even scent-blocking patches were unnecessary on him. Theo seemed to feel it and smell it anyway, and perhaps that was because he was still a baby, with heightened senses, but to everyone else, Alastor was nothing more than a beta at first glance. The only thing that made them change their view was the identical baby in his arms and then the sight of his neck that explained the story behind it. The bite on the dark skin of his gland was grayish around the edges, completely dead, it didn’t close or heal because his omega was stubborn and clung to something that no longer existed. Even if the bond had broken long ago, it surprised him how strong the will to wait for someone and to hold on for his baby was, otherwise, his omega would have died already. It was no longer good for anything except being ugly to look at, just like all of him. That was when the looks turned to pure pity and when the alphas who found him attractive from afar began to avoid him and make excuses when approaching.

 

Alastor hated that, hated being seen that way. But it didn’t matter, because he didn’t need anyone, he just needed his omega to heal once and for all.

 

“I’d say ‘criminal’ is a rather strong word, dear. They’re not evil people, and I’m not the type to get angry without reason,” Alastor replied, putting the plates under the water with his free hand and turning the faucet a bit harder. “Perhaps the most appropriate thing would be to call them inconsiderate.”

 

Mimzy jumped up from the chair, circling the table like a restless bee and kicking the floor. She was an omega too, but one with a strong temperament compared to many others. Pretty, small, well-shaped with a lovely face, she didn’t even reach a bit below his shoulder, and even so, the wickedness inside that body was immeasurable. Alastor could only feel tenderness as he listened to her rant.

 

She shoved Alastor away from the dishes and took over washing them herself while she raved. Theo laughed in his mama’s arms while kicking his little legs, amused. For some reason, he loved seeing others angry.

 

“Oh my deer, inconsiderate my tits!” she snorted, almost shouting as she scrubbed furiously. “I told you, I told you! Al. I told you a thousand times. A thousand times, sweetheart! You should’ve gone and found yourself an alpha with his head shoved way up his own ass, one with money even in his eyelashes, and boom!” She slammed her hands against the dishes, Alastor was thankful they were plastic, he thought while breathing deeply, or they’d be broken by now. “Scam him, drain all the money out of their dick-filled heads and riches. A black widow! You get me? It always works,” she said maliciously. Alastor shook his head with a grimace while picking up his half-finished cup and taking a sip of coffee. Theo tried to grab it, but he moved it away from his little hands, only for Mimzy to snatch it a second later and stick it under the water.

 

Ah…

 

Mimzy raised her wrist when she finished washing, and her jewelry clinked shamelessly. Rings, bracelets, and a necklace that gleamed even with the lights off. Completely stunning, she looked terribly out of place in his house, standing out like a sore thumb.

 

“Look at me,” she added, giving a little proud twirl in front of her friend. “Everything you see here is love, charm, and a teeny, weeeell-dosed bit of poison. And those idiots fall like flies into the trap. The last one took me to Atlantic City. I crossed the ocean too! What do you say, baby?”

 

Alastor placed the dishes she had just washed into the drying rack one by one, unhurried in his movements while Mimzy babbled. The baby began to grow restless, sniffing the air with a soft little sound from his rough little deer nose. Usually, as babies, they still retained the physical traits of a fawn; later their features became a bit more human. But he truly hoped Theo wouldn’t, his little nose and his whole little face were perfect just the way they were.

 

Without saying a word, Alastor gently lowered his face and brushed the little one’s nose with his own, allowing the baby-and-milk essence to wrap around him naturally, like someone covering themselves in a scent without realizing it. He also let Theo wrap himself in his own. He couldn’t feel it, but Theo seemed to inhale it deeply. The fawn relaxed immediately, resting his chubby cheek against his neck while letting out a small huff.

 

“I appreciate your concern about my financial situation, Mimzy. Thank you,” he said then, returning to the table while patting the pup’s back. “I know that, even if it’s not your way, I should look for someone so Theo grows up with the scent of a dominant figure so his sense of smell can, hm, function properly and… be efficient, at least more than mine. Even if I don’t like the idea. But I understand the situation. The radio doesn’t have the reach it used to, people only listen to it in the car now rather than at home, and they only want music, not to hear conversations they aren’t interested in in between. Besides, with those new devices, televisions, VoxTech plasmas and this whole range of useless idiocies, the mind becomes dull,” he pronounced the name with a hint of polite irony. “Who would want to sit and listen to me if not my own child who doesn’t understand a word I’m saying?”

 

Mimzy frowned, crossing her arms and looking at him with one finely made-up brow raised. “I would listen,” she said. “I always listen to you.”

 

“And I appreciate that, Mimzy, my dear,” he replied with a minimal tilt of his head. “But not everyone shares your good taste for radio. I’m sure you understand.”

 

She watched him for a few seconds as if weighing his words before speaking, then smiled sideways, with that dangerous spark she always carried.

 

“And what about a new alpha?” she pressed. “Don’t tell me you already have someone in mind, you rogue. Or you’ve seen someone attractive, tell me, tell me. Is it that guy from the bakery? The alpha from the flower shop? Come on, Al!”

 

Alastor paused as he sat down in one of the chairs, settling his pup on his lap. He looked at the baby playing with one of the buttons of his shirt between his small, chubby hands, then lifted his gaze to Mimzy. With a calm gesture, he pointed first to the little one and then, with a finger, to the side of his neck where he tapped lightly as if reminding her of the obvious.

 

The horrible mark still open beneath the fabric, barely visible but unmistakable and ugly, rose in a swollen relief, like a memory etched so deeply into his skin that it seemed impossible to ever move far away from it.

 

Judging by how his body was doing, it had improved considerably from how it had been before, but the current state of his mark and his omega now seemed to have stalled. Alastor followed the instructions every day, but he no longer knew what else to do to move forward. It wasn’t improving anymore.

 

“Even if I had tried,” he said softly, the obvious written all over his face, “it wouldn’t have worked because of this.”

 

Mimzy opened her mouth, lifting a finger, but she knew she couldn’t refute that. She closed it again, her expression turning more serious than usual. A bit guilty for suggesting such a thing when she was fully aware of Alastor’s reality. Her little hamster ears drooped.

 

“Oh, right, that’s true, I—” she murmured.

 

“No one wants a marked and unbonded omega,” Alastor continued, without bitterness in his voice, like someone listing obvious facts. The truth was he didn’t have his eyes on anyone else nor was he in a rush for a partner, the farther away he kept the damn alphas and any ‘superior’ caste, the better for him. “And even if someone tried with me,” his hand tightened more firmly around the baby, protective, “I know I’d run the risk of turning feral if I see another alpha so close to my child. My mark isn’t even close to healed, so my omega refuses to acknowledge anyone else even if I do. I couldn’t allow it. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone, and of course, I’d run the risk of harming Theo unconsciously if my omega turns feral out of nowhere…”

 

The little one lifted his head as if he had understood his name, and Alastor gently adjusted one of his drooping ears, playing with them when the baby seemed to enjoy the sensation.

 

“So no,” he concluded with a resigned sigh, lowering his own ears. “I’ll find something else. There are always alternatives if one keeps their composure, I just have to go out and look. It won’t kill me, I’ve pulled through before. I can audition for other stations, I can look for part-time work while I do that. It’s just…” He takes a breath, swaying his tail slowly. “Looking.”

 

Mimzy watched him for a long while, as if connecting the pieces Alastor laid out one by one. Then she sighed tiredly, letting her shoulders drop, and stepped closer to give the baby a quick kiss on the cheek when his red, round little cheek was right there, so adorable. Even though she wasn’t particularly fond of babies, she liked them well enough as long as they weren’t hers.

 

“You’re too good for this world, Al,” she said with a crooked smile and a bit of sadness for her friend. “But that won’t get you anywhere, sweetheart.”

 

Alastor inclined his head once more with a subtle, elegant gesture. Even in the simplest motion, and even with his omega shattered, he still looked as beautiful as the first time she had seen him. Mimzy couldn’t believe so many misfortunes had fallen on him. As the little fawn curled against him, secure in his place and pulling away from the touch of a foreign omega, Mimzy fell silent for the first time all afternoon.

 

“He’s not much of a fan of cuddles after eating,” Alastor murmured with a pitying smile when he saw his friend’s pout. He rose from the chair and stood by the window, gently rocking the pup’s weight on his hip while the warm orange light fell over them both. The little fawn had begun to grow restless, more from accumulated pheromones than from real nervousness, and Alastor seemed to understand without even needing to look at him. Making a vague attempt to release pheromones, even if he wasn’t sure he was doing it right. It seemed to work on him.

 

“He’s such a little sweetheart.”

 

“Theo…” he murmured with a musical cadence, softly blowing into the fine, soft hair of his brown fur.

 

The child lifted his little head at hearing his name. His brown ears, just like his mother’s, still too big for his face, twitched with a small curious spasm before flopping back down. Alastor took one of the little hands and made it ‘walk’ along his own arm, as if it were a tiny animal climbing an invisible tree, making soft noises in his chest that lulled the baby.

 

Theo let out a soft laugh, a brief, airy sound that showed the only four teeth he had and his toothless gums, and leaned forward, bumping his forehead against Alastor’s chest while laughing shrilly. He responded by leaning in slightly, protecting the sweet gesture, as if his body knew exactly how to position itself to receive it. The slow sway of his breathing like a soundless lullaby that soothed him, almost imperceptible, like the rocking of a branch heavy with leaves.

 

Mimzy tilted her head.

 

She thought Alastor had always been an unbearable character, even when he wasn’t trying to be. He used to be a feral omega. Then he showed up with an alpha. She had been infinitely happy for him because she knew Alastor wasn’t the type who loved easily and it didn’t seem like he’d ever let an alpha get close to him for any reason, but he had managed it, and just when he was about to have a family…

 

The world first took his alpha at his happiest moment, a month before even being able to meet their children. Then, during childbirth, he lost his other babies. With Theo being the only one who barely survived the birth of an omega grieving his alpha and lost mark. He was going to be a very strong little one.

 

But there was that thing, an alert stillness, a constant care in every one of his movements as if danger clung to the soles of his shoes with every step. As if even while living a peaceful life, every muscle were alert to the slightest startle, to any change in the air that might touch him.

 

“It’s incredible, Al,” she finally said, breaking the silence. “I swear, if I didn’t see it, I wouldn’t believe it,” Mimzy murmured, touching her own cheeks. Alastor raised an eyebrow softly.

 

“What do you mean, dear?”

 

“This, Alastor,” she replied, pointing at both of them and then at the whole place. “You, sweetheart, seeing you like this. So…” she searched for the word. “Alive after everything, so… you.”

 

Alastor smiled faintly, adjusting Theo better when the child tried to turn to look at the light coming in through the window.

 

“One learns to live, I suppose. Some habits become instinctive, and even if my omega doesn’t function properly, I still have a reason to be here.”

 

The radio, resting on the shelf, cleared its throat softly before a cheerful, overly enthusiastic voice filled the room, cutting off the slow, gentle music.

 

“The future is already here! New modern televisions, many-inch screens, sharp image and surround sound…”

 

Alastor immediately lifted his gaze. With that grimace he always gave to things he didn’t like at all, his pup tensed at the change. He moved closer and adjusted the volume a little with the tips of his fingers so it wouldn’t be too much for his ears.

 

“…automatic players, smart appliances and much more. Order today from our official website VoxT—!”

 

“Website?” Mimzy repeated loudly, looking as if a lightbulb had gone off over her head, as if the word itself had been a spark. “Of course! That’s it.”

 

Alastor blinked at her in confusion. Mimzy straightened abruptly, her eyes shining.

 

“Website!” she said again. “Right. Of course.”

 

She went straight to her purse, rummaging until she pulled out a chewed-up pencil and a folded scrap of paper. She leaned over the table and began to write with exaggerated enthusiasm, humming happily.

 

“Mimzy…” Alastor warned softly, though clearly cautious. He knew an idea had lodged itself in her stubborn little head, and it wouldn’t be entirely good.

 

“Listen to me, listen to what I’m about to tell you,” replied the hamster-hybrid omega without lifting her gaze. “Maybe there’s a website that might interest you now that you’re looking for a job. And…” She gave her friend a quick up-and-down look as if inspecting a fine piece. “Yeah, there are guys who are into that whole milf vibe and all that.”

 

“What thing of what? I don’t think—”

 

“Aha!” she interrupted, raising a finger. “It’s called…” she wrote it down in big, barely legible letters thanks to her excitement, “OmegaGleam.com”

 

Alastor immediately pulled a face. The name was vulgar, and its content definitely had to be as well because what the hell?

 

“The name alone is… a bit alarming.”

 

Mimzy smiled like a satisfied cat but waved it off casually with her hand.

 

“A friend of mine started working there,” she continued, leaving the scrap of paper clearly visible on the table, weighing it down with the fruit bowl so it wouldn’t fly away. “She barely had to do anything. A few little things here, others there, a camera and a computer and…” she made a vague gesture with her hand, rubbing her middle and index fingers against her thumb, “and now she’s strolling along the beaches of Brazil. White sand, expensive drinks and the whole deal. You know!”

 

Alastor stared at the paper for a few seconds longer than strictly necessary, his ears lowering in displeasure.

 

“It’s suspiciously convenient,” he murmured. “And far too simple, hm…”

 

At that moment, Theo shifted restlessly where he had been sleeping in his mother’s arms. His little nose wrinkled slightly as he inhaled the air, where Mimzy’s excited scent was strong and far too sweet for his system, ignited by the idea. It had changed enough to be noticeable, rising like almonds and rosemary in honey. The little one let out a low whine, almost a whimper, and clutched Alastor’s clothes more tightly.

 

“Shh…” he whispered immediately.

 

He turned his body slightly, almost unconsciously placing himself between Mimzy and the child in a protective way. He lowered his head, brushing Theo’s temple with his chin, and let his nonexistent scent spread over him again and wrap him completely. The swaying returned, slow and steady.

 

“Everything’s alright, sweetheart,” he murmured. Mimzy immediately apologized under her breath. “It’s nothing, we’re just talking, okay? He’s a bit sensitive to smells.”

 

The fawn’s little ears trembled once and then relaxed. Theo buried his face against his neck, breathing deeply until he went still and half-asleep again. His fluffy tail, poking out of the little red outfit he was wearing, also calmed after twitching anxiously.

 

Mimzy watched the scene with an unusually soft expression, restraining her scent. “Sorry, little guy,” she said quietly. “I got too excited.”

 

Alastor didn’t respond right away, though he did give her a reassuring look. He kept swaying for a few more seconds, making sure the child was completely calm. Only then did he lift his spirits slightly.

 

“Excitement is contagious, it’s perfectly understandable,” he said politely. “But here we prefer a bit more calm and to avoid, you know, ostentation… in all areas.”

 

Mimzy smiled, raising her hands in surrender, her jewelry clinking once more.

 

“Alright, alright, Kitty. Just… think about it, okay?” she pointed at the paper, her small round ears atop her head perking up with excitement. “I’m not saying you should blindly trust the site. Just take a look at it, it could be your financial lifeline. You know.”

 

Alastor nodded slowly, even if he wasn’t convinced at all about whatever that site was, while Theo slept against his chest, oblivious to the outside world. What did it matter? These were things he didn’t have to worry about yet.

 

🌸

 

The tinted glass window was enormous and took up almost the entire wall of the luxurious office.

 

Vincent Whittman stood with his back to the desk, hands tucked into the pockets of his perfectly pressed tailored trousers, observing the city as if it were a defective scale model that needed more fixes because of how ugly it was. It needed more technology around it. Those low-effort-designed skyscrapers surrounding his tower, polluted smoke, lights and constant movement.

 

All of it was his, or at least it looked that way. Once he closed the contract with the SoftTech Device network, he would have the final piece on his board. VoxTech spread across the city like a contagious virus, reflecting the faces of the failures who had tried to reach the top and couldn’t even take a miserable step. He had everything, and yet none of it stirred the slightest enthusiasm or made his face shift from its bored expression.

 

His tired, attentive eyes moved with the focus of a marine predator evaluating a school of small fish to devour. There was no rush in him, after all, that was exactly what he was, a marine predator.

 

“S-sir Whittman…” Ethan’s trembling voice broke the silence.

 

Vincent didn’t turn or show even a hint of giving his attention.

 

“Give me today’s dates and schedules, no delays,” he ordered curtly.

 

Ethan swallowed, his legs shaking. He held the planner with both hands as if it were a lifeline every time he entered that office. Vincent’s scent filled the room in an oppressive way, with a metallic force, something marine and deep. His presence crushed the chest and made the nape burn on the weaker ones, even if he wasn’t particularly imposing. The patches on his neck barely managed to soften it, which was why he generally had to take suppressants often, and even so, it was still too much for anyone, even for alphas. Too much for anyone not built to endure it.

 

Only a dominant alpha could withstand such a—

 

“Uh… um, at nine y-you have the meeting with the northern sector investors’ council…” he began, his voice trembling. “At ten thirty there’s the call with the innovation department. At twelve, lunch with—”

 

“Cancel it,” Vincent interrupted without looking at him.

 

“T-the— the lunch, sir?”

 

“Everything that involves smiling and pretending interest with some bitches whose asses don’t even fit in their chairs,” he replied with disdain. “Leave it for another day. Whatever it is, they can wait. They’ll have to understand patience.”

 

Ethan wrote quickly, his fingers slightly erratic as he hurried to jot down every word exactly.

 

“And i-in the afternoon…” he continued, “you have an internal presentation on the new large-format television lines. Screens of—”

 

“I’ve seen them,” he said. “They’re big, yes, and they’re the fucking same as all the others. I don’t want that shit here. Cross it out. Next.”

 

He hesitated for a second before continuing. Every note in his voice made his scent rise, and he almost felt his beta wanting to kneel and cry, apologizing for what he had to announce next.

 

“There are also…” his voice lowered, “…several missed calls… f-from your ex-h-h-husband.”

 

That did make Vincent react. He rolled his eyes in annoyance and finally turned to look at the poor, sweating man, placing his hands behind his back. His gaze fell on Ethan with an almost physical weight, a deep current dragging everything in its path like a wave of saltwater straight from the sea.

 

“And?” he spat. “Do I now also have to do fucking phone therapy for my goddamn ex? Put a fucking restraining order on him or something.”

 

Ethan shrank slightly into himself.

 

“He says that… that he wants to talk to you, sir. That m-m-maybe you could try again. Don’t look at me like that, I’m just reporting what’s in the inbox!”

 

Vincent let out a short, humorless laugh, unclasping his hands behind his back. “Try again?” he spat with fury. “Oh… how fucking cute.” He stepped closer to the desk, placing one hand on the glass surface and leaning slightly toward him. It wasn’t a violent gesture, but it was dominant and invasive in its stillness. “If he has something to say, babe,” he continued, “he can contact my fucking lawyer. The divorce is already processed. It was signed, it was sealed, and now it’s dead. End of story.”

 

Ethan nodded quickly, stepping back when he felt dizzy. “Y-yes, sir. I’ll let him know.”

 

Vincent had already lost interest in the conversation. His attention drifted away again, as if the exchange had been swallowed by the constant void that accompanied his aura. His rut must be approaching because he was more irritable than usual, more so considering he’d forgotten his suppressants. He turned back to the city, this time not focusing on anything in particular. Just there, tense.

 

Ethan went on to murmur something else, about emails, about an interview and about a report, but Vincent barely heard anything he said. The words came and went like white noise in his ears.

 

Finally, he raised a hand without looking at him and made a slight gesture. “Fine. Out,” he said. “Before I get truly irritated.”

 

“Y-yes, Mr. Whittman,” he replied, almost running to the door, relieved to finally get out of there.

 

He sighed.

 

Vincent Whittman was born as a statistical error. Not because enigmas like him were rare, though they were, but because a shark-hybrid Enigma didn’t fit into any known prediction of the hierarchical pyramid. Generally, sharks were mostly betas and alphas. Medical records first classified him as an atypical alpha when he showed a growing amount of hormones. Then as a hormonal mutation. Finally, when he turned twelve and his presence began provoking instinctive responses even in adult alphas, irritating and frightening, they had to accept the truth that Vincent belonged at the apex, higher up.

 

Enigmas were not a caste in the traditional sense. They were a dominant biological anomaly, individuals whose endocrine systems not only produced pheromones but could orchestrate them. Where an alpha imposed leadership, an enigma reordered hierarchies. Where an alpha, omega, or beta responded, an enigma decided whether that response existed at all. In Vincent, this was amplified by his animal inheritance.

 

His shark biology made him efficient to the point of inhumanity. His heart beat slower than average even under stress. His blood was thicker and more oxygenated, and his body was designed to never stop once it set itself on something, to push forward even when the environment turned hostile around him. He didn’t know exhaustion like others did, what he felt was pure irritation when something slowed him down.

 

Like at that moment.

 

The scent of an enigma was already oppressive by nature. Vincent’s was different. While it didn’t spread chaotically, it imposed itself as a deep pressure in each of his possessions and environments, like dark water closing over others’ lungs. He loved watching expressions panic under it and seeing people try to hold their breath. Alphas described it as a sensation of constant evaluation and brutal crushing. Omegas said it was like standing under the shadow of something too big to face. Even other enigmas, the few there were in the city, preferred to keep their distance from him. Someone born with power, acquiring more and more of it, could only be a danger to the surrounding world.

 

Suppressor patches barely managed to dull the edges of his scent, and the pills were hardly recommended. He grew up quickly understanding an uncomfortable truth: he would never be just another one. He couldn’t blend in among low-tier alphas or let his guard down. The world reacted to him by standing at attention before he even spoke. He learned to use that as a tool to stab and pierce, as well as to climb. He didn’t have a sentimental childhood, only one of books, business, and strict alpha parents who raised him to go far.

 

He studied to exhaustion because it was logical to do so with his capacity for knowledge. How could he waste it just by lazing around? He led because no one else could keep up with the pace he demanded, so he had to do it himself. When others hesitated, Vincent advanced. Where others negotiated, Vincent moved ahead. There shouldn’t have been a gram of patience for human error in his body, yet there was an extensive understanding of it.

 

When he grew up, VoxTech was born the way all important things in his life were, from an opportunity poorly exploited by someone else. A small tech company at first, promising nonetheless, run by alphas who thought themselves invincible simply because of what they were. Vincent entered first as a financial advisor. Six months later, after thorough investigation, he already knew more about the company than its own founders. After a year, he had bought enough shares to sit at the board table and look down with a sharp-toothed smile at all the idiots below.

 

After two years, it was inevitable.

 

He didn’t raise his voice when he displaced the CEO. He didn’t need to at all. His presence and his way of speaking, of convincing and crushing the enemy, were enough to incite people. VoxTech flourished.

 

It was hard work.

 

Vincent didn’t sleep much. His body didn’t need it. His metabolism functioned differently from others’, like all hybrids of his kind; his mind was always one step ahead. The company grew under his direction and command like a well-fed predator, expansive, aggressive and elegant. Screens, broadcasts, household appliances, image control, total narrative dominance… VoxTech sold its powerful influence to the masses with wired minds.

 

It was during that rise that he married. Valentino was a dominant alpha, attractive, charismatic, and ambitious in a way only he could be. He fit perfectly into the role of the “trophy wife” Vincent needed to complete his image, the alpha beside a powerful enigma. And at first, it worked well. Vincent appreciated his physical company and the contrast between them. He even believed, for a time, that it would be enough to continue pursuing his goals alongside someone who could support him.

 

But alphas had this corrosive trait in their nature, they couldn’t stand living under something bigger than themselves. It was always that way, which was why relationships between alphas and alphas, or with something greater than them, that lasted were very rare. They almost always preferred leading packs of their own kind or inserting themselves into others where they could lead, but they couldn’t stand being beneath something. Vincent would inevitably be the leader of his own pack, and his husband couldn’t endure that. Valentino wanted the spotlight. He wanted attention. He wanted total control over Vincent in spaces where he didn’t have it. Vincent didn’t notice at first, but when he did, he was already tired of it. The fights began, arguments and clashes that ended with things flying everywhere.

 

The divorce was clean on paper but dirty in attempts. Vincent felt no guilt when the shouting and accusations came. He felt fury as he watched how his husband had lost custody of his things by being an idiot. Now, every time he took a new car out of his garage, shattered windows, slashed tires and scratches bearing the words “Fucking whore,” “Slut,” and “Easy dick” began to peel the shiny paint.

 

He hadn’t accounted for how clingy an alpha could be. Vincent could no longer stand him. But Valentino didn’t understand endings when it came to himself, and Vincent knew it was something that could happen. He kept orbiting nearby, insisting, searching for cracks that didn’t exist to worm his way in like a moth eating clothes. To Vincent, it was just more background noise by that point, a persistent inconvenience. Annoying.

 

He understood that he didn’t need his approval. He didn’t need anyone’s company at all to exist. He had power, money and control. What more did he need? Sex was the easiest thing to get… he wasn’t going to fight for it.

 

But…

 

When the office fell silent again, Vincent let himself drop into his chair. The leather creaked under his weight. He rested his elbows on the desk and dragged a hand down his face, tired.

 

Everything felt unbearably boring.

 

He had… everything. People who trembled just from smelling him. And yet he still felt the same constant hollow in his stomach, an internal pressure like a void. He was empty. 

 

He looked at the immaculate surface of the desk, the perfectly aligned reports, the cutting-edge technology surrounding him like a modern altar, and his reflection in the gleaming glass.

 

“What a waste…” he murmured to himself.

 

His teeth clenched slightly, as if some primitive, hungry part of him were searching for something he didn’t yet know how to name. He needed something. Something that would break the monotony of his life. Something that bled, that resisted or that at least didn’t break so easily in his hands. He wanted something.

 

Someone. But he wasn’t willing to admit what kind of someone he wanted.

 

He sighed again, as if that could fix anything. His mind wished, wished that something, anything, would burst through his door and give him a reason to feel something other than that endless emptiness he couldn’t fill with his titles, awards, and money.

 

The laptop screen beside him lit up with a cold, orderly glow when he pressed the button. Vincent settled into the chair, rolling up his sleeves slightly, and let the usual routine take control of his body on autopilot. He focused his eyes on the graphs, on the numbers rising and falling like predictable tides. That filled the screen. A language he understood and could manipulate, because it was exact without unnecessary emotions in between.

 

He typed quickly, moving from one report to another. Adjusting budgets, approving the firing of the incompetent with the same ease with which he deleted spam emails. For a few minutes, it was enough for Vincent to be completely focused.

 

Until a small ping broke the rhythm. A pop-up message appeared in a corner of the screen.

 

New message. Vincent frowned, he thought he had told Ethan to take care of all that.

 

“Now what?”

 

He opened it without thinking and without reading it properly. His ex-husband’s name appeared immediately, accompanied by a shamelessly underlined link.

 

‘If you want to play hard to get and you don’t want to come back, that’s fine. But if you miss me… you can see me here. Doing the dirty things you liked, Voxy. Like before. Remember?’

 

Vincent let out a slow, heavy exhale. He wanted to pull on his tie and hang it from the nearest beam while it was still tied around his neck. What was his fucking problem?

 

“Pathetic idiot,” he muttered.

 

He rolled his eyes, closed the message, and deleted it without opening anything or hesitating. He wasn’t in the mood for stupidity. He went back to the statistics tab, adjusted a filter and resumed the analysis as if nothing had happened. Thirty seconds of silence, watching.

 

Ping. Another message.

 

This time the same link with a heart. Another insinuating comment or one of anger, it varied between long blocks of text. A provocation and irritation on his part.

 

“Fuck, Val, what the…?” he said out loud, irritated.

 

He deleted it again. Kept working and tried to ignore it. How many numbers did the miserable asshole have to contact him? How many times had he blocked him already? Had he bought the entire franchise or what?

 

Ping.

 

Ping.

 

Ping.

 

The corner of the screen began to fill with notifications like a persistent infestation, or as if a virus were wreaking havoc. Vincent clenched his jaw and his fingers froze over the keyboard, motionless and tense.

 

“Do you have that much free time to cry over a dick, huh?” he growled, staring at the screen as if the other could hear him.

 

A new message appeared, this one more direct.

 

‘You were always watching me. Don’t play uninterested, I know you’re reading. You loved having control.’

 

Vincent dragged a hand over his face for the umpteenth time. The office, so orderly and clean just moments ago, began to feel tighter and more suffocating around him, dense and stifling like a prison. His scent intensified without him realizing it, loading the air with a deep pressure that followed him like chains around his ankles whenever something managed to pull him out of the lethargy of his mind.

 

“Insufferable bitch,” he muttered.

 

He closed the statistics document with a click harder than necessary. He stared at the desk for a few seconds, weighing the internal fight happening in his brain, and the boredom that clung to that constant void pulsed under his skin like an incessant bug whispering in his ear. And above it all, an annoying, unwanted curiosity rose from its corner and latched onto his eyes. Finally, he clicked his tongue.

 

“Five minutes,” he said to himself, irritation prickling on his skin. “Just to shut you up.”

 

He opened the link. The page took a second to fully load and opened downward frame by frame. The background was dark with cheap, ugly typography that would make anyone who knew design want to rip their eyes out. A vulgar, pretentious name with sparkles in the header. Vincent arched a brow in disdain.

 

OmegaGleam.

 

“Disgusting…” he muttered, though he didn’t close the window.

 

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, staring at the screen with a critical, distant expression while many videos began to load, live videos happening at that exact moment, but Valentino’s link redirected him to a specific one. There was no real interest in his gaze, only a dangerous mix of anger and defiance. Waiting for the poorly optimized page to decide to respond.

 

“This better be worth interrupting me,” he added quietly. The glow of the screen illuminated his sharp features while the rest of the office sank into shadow as the sun outside finished setting.

 

🌸

 

The nest would have been in darkness if not for the small star lights hanging from the ceiling. He had bought them as a gift for his pups when he found out he was going to be a parent, Alastor had hung them while he watched, arms crossed against the doorframe, happy that they could both witness it.

 

He didn’t get to see it.

 

Now only one of his little pups felt the light they emitted, wrapped in the golden amber glow of the stars, beating so softly it seemed to breathe with them.

 

They had chosen this room for the nest because they needed something that wouldn’t feel too small for their family at that time, after they had both pooled together to buy it. However, it ended up being far too large and spacious for just him and the baby alone. It was a nest space carefully built and arranged by his alpha, with layers of cool-colored fabrics since deer couldn’t see reds and oranges. Thick patterned blankets and cushions, along with other items like clothes, toys, and plushies arranged in a protective semicircle. There was heated wood flooring beneath everything, a bit creaky from time and use, and a constant scent of what Alastor called home. A soft infusion of natural fibers and that intimate touch that belonged only to his omega, his alpha’s scent had long since disappeared.

 

The air there was slower and warmer, cool in summer and hot in winter, as if the outside world wasn’t allowed to enter the fantasy between those four walls.

 

They had managed to take out a loan to finish paying for some of Theo’s supplies, but the money was no longer enough. For days now he had been leaving his resume at several part-time places, but no one called. No one wanted an omega with a baby at their job, so all he could do was wait and hope to get lucky with one. Especially when the electricity, water, and gas bills only seemed to grow even if he didn’t use much.

 

A notice about the house had even arrived, and he feared it was what he thought it would be…

 

His omega simply couldn’t bear the stress. So now he was lying on his back, his spine supported against a padded pile of pillows, with one leg bent to create a small refuge for himself. Resting on his chest, having climbed there on his own after crawling around, drooling, rolling, and finally climbing up, Theo lay curled into a small ball, face down.

 

Theo. The little deer pup had lighter sleep than him, that restless half-sleep of small children who couldn’t stay still. His breathing was irregular and quick as it usually was, with small nasal snorts from his damp little nose, and his ears twitched now and then along with his tail, reacting even to the imagined sounds of his dreams. His hands clutched the fabric of Alastor’s shirt and his little head sank into the exposed fluff of his mother’s chest, breathing in the scent Alastor couldn’t sense, clinging to him tightly to keep him from going away.

 

Alastor sang softly while gently patting his back. It wasn’t a known song or something that could be found on a record or the radio. It was just a lullaby his mother used to sing to him in hums. A low melody reduced almost to a murmur, built of long syllables and soft vowels. A melodic cradle-song that had been born long before he could consciously remember it. Theo, just like he had when he was a pup, seemed to love the song, relaxing into his mother each time his ears caught the sound.

 

“Shh…” he whispered between verses, lowering his voice more and more as he saw the pup falling fully asleep.

 

Theo shifted slightly, tucking his head under Alastor’s chin and pushing his ears into his mother’s face. Alastor just laughed softly as he blew them away. The contact still triggered an immediate response, Alastor lowered his face and brushed his nose against the baby’s warm forehead and let out a low sound, almost a restrained purr, to reassure his offspring to any nearby animal even if there was none. It wasn’t something he did outside the nest, because it was private to both of them, and making such sounds in front of others was in very poor taste. But there, in that closed and living space, his inner omega had permission to exist without defenses to raise. Injured and battered, dragging itself along the ground after the blows life had dealt it, it was a wounded animal inside. An animal that begged for life even after losing a bond and part of its litter.

 

He wanted to live, which was why those sessions of calm after stress were necessary. They hadn’t always been this peaceful, though. There was a not-so-distant time when the nest had been a place of silent crying, pain, and rejection toward the only baby who had survived. Endless nights with a tense, wounded body and a mind lost in memories too heavy to lift, to the point that he didn’t know what to do when his newborn cried for him in his crib, for his warmth and his pheromones. He left him alone without his scent for too long, only feeding him from afar and avoiding looking at him for days. His resentful omega unconsciously trying to push him away, unaware of the damage he was doing. Alastor felt so miserable when his omega began to cry more softly and wanted to die when he regained awareness. He realized he didn’t want to be separated from him for anything in the world, begging forgiveness from his little, pheromone-deprived body until his throat hurt and praying that he wouldn’t die too. When a pup born of an alpha and an omega doesn’t receive pheromones from the parent, it already becomes weak, without the mother, it was only a matter of days before he would die.

 

Alastor never managed to fully thank everything that this little pup hadn’t died as well because of his negligence. He could only feel like the worst person in the world for days, doing everything possible to release his pheromones as much as he could until he managed to make up for what had been missing. The last of what he had left.

 

Theo never resented his mother anyway, he didn’t understand what had happened, he was just a baby. The omega collapsed into an internal sob, curling against the baby as a last method of self-preservation. Instinct. The death of his alpha had left a void that wasn’t just emotional, but physical, an absence his omega didn’t know how to process or deal with because once bonded, their everything was supposed to be shared. He couldn’t move forward, much less with the open mark on his neck stalled in healing.

 

It was like dying for the first time.

 

The birth had been the worst part. Alastor closed his eyes for a second, without stopping his song to his baby as he remembered. Theo had been the only one who made it. The only one of the litter of three who had breathed air outside the womb. The only one who had managed to cling to life with the same stubbornness with which he now clung to his chest. The others… hadn’t been strong enough, and his omega cried for them every night. Already weakened by the grief for his alpha at the time he had them, he hadn’t been able to sustain them for long and his body let them die. He was weak from the break of the lost bond. As if his alpha had wanted to drag them with him into the beyond to have company.

 

That blow had nearly broken him entirely. Therapy had been daily, long, and hard. It was weekly now, after months in which he could barely stay standing and his friends worried he might not survive. Rosie took care of the baby, Mimzy took care of him. He had to learn to get back up without fear and to breathe without guilt for having survived without his alpha and his other children. To allow himself another bond without thinking the universe would rip it away as punishment. But his omega didn’t understand that, not fully, and the process remained painfully slow after the few advances.

 

Healing sessions in the nest were part of that. Small things had to be done even if they seemed useless. Everyday, repetitive things he often didn’t pay attention to, but that helped. Singing to the pup was one, gently rocking with the baby and stroking behind Theo’s ears with gentle fingers were others, always following the rhythm of the song. Or letting the baby tuck his cold feet under his legs, seek warmth, leave his baby scent in the nest. Responding to every smallest sign of restlessness with immediate presence. It was the only way.

 

Without his scent available due to his withered mark, his range of activities was considerably reduced. But it seemed feasible at first. A common omega always healed like that, with consistency of activities, with contact from their offspring, with the pure love babies could give. But Alastor’s omega seemed more demanding than the rest, because it still hadn’t fully healed. His baby had taken all of his determination.

 

“That’s it, little one,” Alastor murmured when Theo made a small satisfied sound at the song and the comfortable place to sleep. “Rest.”

 

The pup let out a long, deep sigh, and his body completely relaxed without stirring again. Alastor felt the dead weight of sleep settle against him and adjusted his posture, instinctively protecting the child’s neck with his forearm. Theo was much smaller than other babies he had seen nearby, and he assumed it was due to the lack of paternal and maternal pheromones at the time he was born. And he would always feel guilty about it. All that remained was to feed him well, he had to feed him well. Fill every empty space left by the lack of pheromones.

 

But every time he thought about it, work returned to his mind. He worked as a morning radio announcer, sometimes leaving the baby with Rosie, but he couldn’t be away long before his omega began to complain inside and his baby cried like the condemned. So his schedule was incredibly shortened; he worked very few hours, and the radio, well, the radio wasn’t listened to much lately. The money stopped being enough with the demands of a baby and an adult.

 

Besides, neither he nor his alpha had close families. There was no other choice but to help himself.

 

That was when his gaze slid, inevitably, toward the small low table beside the nest. He had brought it after eyeing it with distrust. The damned little paper Mimzy had left with her exaggerated, shameless handwriting rested there. Even from where he was, at a distance, it seemed to scream at him to pick it up. Vulgar and tempting, just as the name itself suggested.

 

Alastor frowned slightly as he shook his head to himself. “No, Alastor. Come on…” he whispered, running a hand through his brown curls in anger. “Not that. You’re better than that… You can do better. There are… more jobs.”

 

His omega whimpered miserably. He turned his attention back to Theo, who now slept deeply, one of his little ears folded comically against his chest. Alastor smiled with weary tenderness and lowered his voice until it became a simple, wordless murmur, scratching the fluffy little head. He thought about the reduced paycheck, the diapers he had to buy, the oil, the cotton, the wet wipes, and the damned medications for the inhaler spacer that was about to break too. The asthma Theo had was a type of temporary asthma, but he couldn’t stop giving him his medicine. He thought about the bills he had to pay, the house to maintain, the therapy, the damned places where he was rejected and treated like trash over and over again. About worries piling up like wet leaves at the bottom of a pond. He thought about how easy it would be to accept the help Rosie and Mimzy offered him, and how dangerous it had always been for him to wander like this.

 

He hated accepting help, more than what he allowed himself to receive. He already owed too much and didn’t want debts with anyone else. Rosie had been kind in refusing to let him pay her for taking care of Theo, but he didn’t feel comfortable with it. Mimzy basically brought him diapers and formula every week (even though Theo still didn’t drink formula), and he was infinitely grateful.

 

Where did that leave him as an omega? …As a person? How did he expect to support his child if he constantly depended on others? Theo needed him, not everyone else. It had to be him who gave him things, he had to get the money and give him whatever he wanted by his own merit. It was the least he could do for him, after all.

 

He kissed Theo’s crown carefully when the baby sensed his distress, soothing him quickly.

 

“We don’t need anyone else. Right?” he whispered, though he didn’t know if it was for Theo or for himself. The nest seemed to close in around him a little more like a thermal blanket, as if the space itself accepted that promise and held it up so he could see it every time he looked up. Alastor remained still, letting time do its slower work and heal little by little, with no witnesses to see him.

 

But it seemed increasingly impossible.

 

Theo had completely fallen asleep when he left him atop several pillows carrying his own baby scent. The change was gradual, he didn’t let his warmth leave the little baby, while he curled around him protectively. His breathing grew deeper and more even, the small chest rising and falling with a trusting rhythm. One of his small, dark little legs stretched just slightly before relaxing, the way fawns often do when sleep finally overtakes them, and his ears, oh, those cute ears far too big for his head were a tenderness every time he saw them. They fell to the sides, loose and vulnerable. From time to time, a minimal tremor ran through his flanks beneath the heart-patterned little outfit Rosie had made for him, the reflection of some dream he might be having, perhaps meadows he had never seen but that his body remembered all the same through his mother’s memories while he was still in the womb. That usually lasted until the age of four before being lost completely.

 

Alastor didn’t move at first. He waited as he always did while watching the baby through his curls, his tail sliding in a calm sway. Only when he was sure Theo wouldn’t wake at the slightest change did he carefully adjust the blanket over his back and let the baby settle more comfortably into the natural curve of his torso.

 

With a free hand, he took his old, slightly broken and discontinued cellphone from the far place where he had left it. The screen took an extra second to turn on. It blinked tired, as if it too had been through too much. The fracture ran across the touchscreen like a spiderweb.

 

There were few messages. Mimzy, of course, took up most of them, with greetings, photos of the places she traveled to, and questions about how he was doing. Some were from Rosie, with simple questions like whether he needed anything or if he was alright. But the last one was definitely from Mimzy.

 

‘Think about it, Al. I’m not telling you to dive in headfirst. Just look a little, for me. You don’t even have to show your face. Just that body of a—’

 

Alastor exhaled through his nose, a brief, tired smile barely appearing as he stopped reading the rest, too obscene. He slid his finger upward. The rest were known and impersonal names, radio contacts, technicians, producers, dry and functional reminders. Voices that existed only for work and nothing truly emotional. And at the very end of everything, a number that was no longer in his contacts.

 

His alpha’s number.

 

His heart gave a sharp contained jolt. The pain that ran through his omega was no longer sharp enough to make him fold over and beg for it to stop, even so, it remained latent, like an old wound with dried blood. The conversation was full of voice messages from both of them, because they hated technology and typing into those silly little picture boxes. But they were small fragments of another time while they worked, low laughter and trivial comments, notices about being free to go out. They were almost always together, so they didn’t need to talk much through there.

 

Ten years in a relationship…

 

Alastor closed his eyes in pain. He knew what would happen if he touched even one of the audios and heard that voice again. He knew how his omega would react, the pull in his chest, the immediate sense of emptiness, the almost physical need to reply to someone who was no longer there and ask when he would come back. He had done it, there was a long list of messages from him at his worst moment. But therapy had been clear, and his therapist had almost thrown his phone out the window. ‘Don’t punish yourself by going backward,’ they had told him gently. Emily was terribly sweet with him when trying to help, telling him that memory can also be a splinter that won’t let the wound heal. She hadn’t charged him for the last session and had actually invited him for tea because she had grown fond of him like an old friend. Alastor hated tea.

 

He locked the screen with a decisive gesture and set the phone aside, face down, as if that could silence the past peeking through the cracks in the screen with twisted and soft fingers. He settled further into the nest and closer to the baby.

 

The fabrics rustled softly as he closed in on himself again, wrapping Theo with his body and limbs, protecting his warmth with both. Alastor flattened his dark ears against his head without realizing it, in an instinctive gesture. His tail retracted, hiding among the blankets, seeking safety. His antlers had stopped growing and only small velvet nubs remained among the mass of curls. It was a shame for hybrids of his kind. Theo’s were even smaller.

 

The more he tried to push the memories away by distracting himself, the more they came back to him like a heavy ball bouncing off a wall. He didn’t want those memories, didn’t want recordings. He wanted someone else’s warmth again.

 

An alpha’s warmth had been his anchor for so long that its absence still felt like a persistent cold in his bones. He had never needed it until his body tasted it and seemed to grow accustomed to it, even if his mind screamed that it was wrong to depend on them like that. He didn’t feel desire like other omegas, at least not in the superficial way others understood it. It was a visceral, primary need: someone behind him, a firm chest pressed to his back with arms that could wrap around him and his pup; someone whose presence could hold him. Someone who wouldn’t protect him, but whose presence would be there when he needed it. He needed the warmth.

 

Alastor tightened his arms a little more around Theo when his omega whimpered and clawed inside him for a figure to fit against him. The baby let out a sleepy sound, almost a soft bleat, and nestled closer, as if he had sensed that emotional shift in his mother without understanding it.

 

“I’m here, I’m here, sweetheart,” Alastor murmured, more to himself than to the child. “I’m here.”

 

How could he move forward if it felt like his path was a tape in reverse?

 

🌸

 

The next day arrived after they had slept in the nest. The kitchen was bathed in a pale grayish light coming through the window, filtered by long curtains. Clouds partially covered the rising sun, but it didn’t look like it was going to rain since the rest was clear. It was the kind of morning Alastor recognized as demanding continuation with heaviness even if the body asked to stay still for rest.

 

Well, shit.

 

Theo was sitting in his baby seat, properly secured by the belt while he moved his feet restlessly, with a flower-shaped tray in front of him. His face was slightly smeared, and his sticky little fingers ignored the spoon to bring the pieces to his mouth on their own. He chewed with absolute concentration on his still-scarce little teeth, making small satisfied noises, like a little animal learning to eat new leaves.

 

Though he had to admit that neither of them was particularly herbivorous…

 

“Mma… mm, mama,” he uttered proudly while slapping the tray with his palm. Gently kicking inside his brown fleece onesie, the bottoms of his little feet had cat-paw-shaped non-slip grips to keep him from falling.

 

“Slowly, Theo, sweetheart. Eat with the spoon,” Alastor said softly, clicking his tongue, not looking at him yet.

 

The baby lifted his dirty little face at the sound of his name and flicked his ears, dropping a piece of food onto his own chest. He watched him for a second, confused, with a small pout, and then went back to chewing as if nothing had happened.

 

Alastor was leaning against the counter, making coffee. The water was beginning to heat in the kettle, emitting that low, constant sound that had always felt comforting to him in the morning before it boiled. He had the phone wedged between his shoulder and ear while he poured four spoonfuls of milk into the bottle to try to give it to Theo, his brow slightly furrowed.

 

Theo was used to nursing directly, but he had to try to eventually get him to accept the bottle. There were nutrients he needed that he couldn’t provide. It was the third attempt, and he only hoped he would at least hold it in his little hands, because the other two times had ended in disasters. The little deer babbled something only he understood while filling his hands with drool, and Alastor crouched down, listening attentively to what they were saying on the phone, extending the bottle to him.

 

Theo looked at it with big, bright eyes before turning his face away and pushing the bottle aside. He tried again, but it was the same result. Alastor frowned.

 

Fuck.

 

“Theo.”

 

“No, ma!” 

 

Well, maybe next time…

 

“I understand what you’re telling me,” he replied into the phone in a controlled voice as he stood up and set the bottle aside, “but the margin you’re giving me is, frankly, very short.”

 

On the other end, the radio director’s voice sounded tired. He wasn’t cruel, much less bad. He was a decent alpha, all things considered, but the demands of his job required levels of commitment Alastor couldn’t meet, and honestly, if he had to be truthful, he understood.

 

“Alastor, believe me, I don’t want to be the villain in this story. You have a good voice, and people like you, especially older betas, but the numbers are really getting smaller,” he said. “The ratings have dropped tremendously in recent months, and they were already low to begin with. The audience left us. People don’t listen to the radio like they used to.”

 

Alastor closed his eyes for a second, his ears flattening against his head in disgust.

 

“I’m aware of market changes, sir,” he said quietly. “But my program has sustained this station for years, and I know the schedule has been cut because of my—”

 

“And we appreciate that, Al. Truly,” the director replied. “Truly… But right now, it’s not enough. Television has taken over everything, and we can’t do anything against it.”

 

Theo let out a small bubbling laugh when he managed to get another bite into his mouth without dropping it. He moved his feet inside the seat, bumping gently against the plastic. His ears and tail moved out of sync, still learning that he had those limbs.

 

“Ta! Ts… Mma, mommy,” he said, proud of himself as he tried to get his mother’s attention.

 

Alastor turned his head slightly.

 

“Very good, baby,” he murmured, giving him a brief smile before hardening his expression again with fatigue. “Yes, I know, sir.”

 

“I can’t promise you more time, and I can’t keep many of the other employees either. It’s nothing against you, please,” the voice continued. “Maybe a week. You should start looking for something else that can help you make money. It’s not personal, Alastor. It’s just survival of the fittest, and unfortunately, we’ve lost.”

 

The water began to boil more forcefully. The sound rose, almost aggressive.

 

“One… week,” Alastor repeated slowly, his claw tapping against the counter. “With all due respect, how am I supposed to do that in so little time? You’re just pushing someone off a cliff and asking them to fly. Sir, I need a bit more time. I’ll get a job, I don’t care what it is, but I just need a little more.”

 

There was an uncomfortable silence on the other end, and Alastor could almost see the look of disappointment.

 

“There’s nothing more I can do for you, son,” the director finally said. “You should take responsibility for yourself. I know it’s hard, but you’ll manage.”

 

The words hung in the air. Alastor tightened his fingers around the kettle handle. For a second, the impulse to respond with something sharp and rude, something that burned, rose in his throat. But he didn’t. He never did. His mother hadn’t raised him to be a rude person, especially toward someone who hadn’t disrespected him.

 

“I understand, fine,” he said instead, in a low voice. “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll take care of it as soon as I can.”

 

He hung up before the other could add anything else. The silence that followed was dense, and he felt like his hand was burning. Only the boiling water could be heard along with the baby’s little sounds, the wet, concentrated noise of Theo eating. The world kept functioning with an insulting normality, and of course, it wasn’t going to stop just because his life was falling apart.

 

It never would. No matter what happened, the world would always continue on its course.

 

Alastor stayed still for a few seconds with the kettle still in his hand. A faint trace of his scent seemed to have shifted slightly, a bitter note slipping beneath the surface, a limbo between calm and panic that made Theo stir and look at his mom with a shiny little face.

 

“Ma…” Theo called suddenly, mouth full and ears down. Alastor turned his head immediately.

 

“I’m here,” he replied almost automatically. He set the kettle down, even though the coffee was left half-done, and approached the baby seat again. He crouched in front of him and rested his forearms on his knees, his ears still drooped. Immediately, his baby’s scent calmed him.

 

Theo looked at him with big, dark and calm eyes, full of stars and constellations inside the red pupil. He chewed once more and reached out a sticky little hand toward him, almost as if he were trying to comfort him.

 

Alastor took it without hesitation and kissed it tenderly.

 

“Everything’s fine, nothing’s wrong with me,” he whispered, even as he repressed with claws the sadness of his omega, shattered once again. His job had been his dream since he was a child, and he loved what he did. Now not being able to do that either was…

 

It was as if everything were being taken from him again.

 

Theo squeezed his finger with surprising strength and made a small, satisfied nasal sound. His ears moved, detecting the change in the air, but no fear transferred to him, only curiosity about what the omega in front of him was feeling.

 

Alastor swallowed and clicked his tongue. One week. The bills, the low salary, therapy, the house, food… Theo.

 

What could he do? It was a disaster.

 

“We’ll manage,” he said softly. “Okay? Like always, we don’t need… help. From anyone.” The baby answered by slapping the tray again, letting out a short laugh, oblivious to everything.

 

Alastor rested his forehead against Theo’s hand for a second, took a deep breath, and forced himself to straighten up. He had to eat breakfast because the day kept moving forward. And even though anguish clawed at his chest with invisible nails, he couldn’t afford to fall, not when he had a baby to raise, an omega to heal, a life to protect…

 

He finished making his coffee.

 

Alastor adjusted the baby seat’s tray with a careful gesture and took the small spoon between his fingers as if it were a delicate instrument. Blowing lightly on the warm porridge, he brought the food to Theo’s mouth. His chest ached, it was full with milk, and he knew it would begin to leak at any moment, but he couldn’t get him too used to these morning hours because he needed him to ingest solid food.

 

“Here we go, you have to learn to use the spoon,” he said softly. “Open a little wider, look at those little teeth… that’s it.”

 

Theo obeyed with messy enthusiasm, babbling. Part of the bite went where it should, and the rest ended up on his chin and the tip of his nose. He made a satisfied little noise, almost proud of the mess he’d made, shaking his little hands and tiny hooves.

 

“Mma…” he murmured, spitting. “Bah!”

 

Alastor smiled, a slight smile that didn’t need to fully show to be sincere. It was the only way his smile was completely sincere. He wiped the baby’s cheek with his thumb and loaded the spoon with porridge again. But the phone vibrated on the counter once more. Alastor looked at it for a second, as if weighing whether he had the energy for another conversation after his mood had been trampled, and then answered with a quick tap, putting it on speaker while he kept feeding Theo.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Tell me you already looked!” Mimzy’s voice burst in without greeting, as vibrant as ever and loud as if she didn’t realize how loud she was. “Don’t tell me you still haven’t, Alastor, please. Tell me you did!”

 

Alastor brought another bite to Theo. “Not yet,” he replied calmly, unconsciously making faces when Theo mimicked him, wrinkling his little nose. “And, to be honest, I’m not particularly interested in the same kinds of things your friends do with their lives.”

 

“Oh, Alastor, don’t start with your old-man nonsense!” she complained. “What’s wrong with just looking, at least? I’m not asking you to rob a bank. Or to accept, but you know. Do you know how many alphas are out there who want to see a good mommy’s ass that—?”

 

“Language,” Alastor pointed out quickly when he felt the vein in his forehead throb. Theo tried to grab the spoon with his hand. Alastor gently pulled it away when he saw his intention to throw it and left it out of reach, looking at the mess he was making. Then he realized Theo actually wanted to put it in his mouth to eat it.

 

“My love. That’s not food,” he explained to the baby. “We look with our eyes, not with our mouth.”

 

Theo frowned, confused, then decided to slap the tray with his palm. “Bah!”

 

“Yes. I also agree with you, little one,” Alastor said, as if it were a valid opinion.

 

Then he returned to the call.

 

“Mimzy, I’m not looking for money in a dishonest way, to deceive or by using my body in a…” he said politely but firmly, “…vulgar… way. You know.”

 

“Vulgar is not being able to pay for the land and buy diapers for your son!” she shot back. “Listen to me, I swear it’s not as terrible as it sounds. You can do lives, they don’t necessarily have to be vulgar. There are weird guys out there, y’know? People who just want to listen to someone talk or show their hooves on camera or something like that… You don’t even have to show your face! You can cover it. Money will rain.”

 

“It’s vulgar,” he replied with a snort. “It is to me. I’m thirty-nine, I have a child and gray hair. Who would want to see that?”

 

“Yes, and you also have hips that carried a child and tits full of milk. And who wouldn’t want to tug on those little ears? Come on, Al!”

 

“Mimzy!” he bellowed. Even if his baby didn’t understand, he felt embarrassed that his friend was talking about such obscenities in front of his child, so he lowered the volume a bit.

 

Theo opened his mouth again, anticipating a shout at Mimzy while searching for her, and Alastor took advantage and gave him another spoonful of porridge.

 

“No shouting,” he murmured. “Excellent work.”

 

“So what do you plan to do then?” Mimzy asked, more serious now.

 

“I’m going to stop by Vel’s café near the radio station,” he answered. “She was looking for an employee. I can ask there. The world doesn’t end today, and even if it did, I definitely prefer anything else.”

 

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line.

 

“You? Working in a café serving people? With… that… woman?”

 

“It’s honest work, don’t speak badly of her,” Alastor replied. “And it’s close, I can walk there. I can take Theo with me too.”

 

As if he had understood his name, Theo perked up his ears and let out a small questioning sound, shaking his little legs.

 

“Yes, you, little thing…” Alastor said, leaning toward him and touching his little nose. “You’d behave wonderfully with mommy, wouldn’t you? Buhh.”

 

“Allie…” Mimzy sighed. “The hours there are horrible and the boss is a deranged lunatic. You’re going to be exhausted. And with a baby on top of that… Do you want to die?”

 

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been tired,” he replied serenely. “And Theo isn’t a burden. A bit more effort is necessary if I want everything to stabilize later.”

 

Theo stretched his hand out again, this time managing to grab Alastor’s claw, playing with it. He squeezed it tightly, staring at him.

 

“See, sweetheart?” Alastor said with a barely perceptible smile, and Theo delighted in it. “Teamwork. You’ll help me, right? Yes, you will.”

 

Mimzy clicked her tongue.

 

“You should think about it better,” she insisted with concern. “At least as a plan B.”

 

Alastor took a breath and sighed, yielding to his friend’s insistence.

 

“Listen, dear. I’ll do this,” he said finally. “First I’ll check the café and walk around downtown a bit. If I can’t manage to get something again… then I’ll consider your suggestion and take a look. Just a look.”

 

“Really?” she asked excitedly.

 

“Really,” he affirmed. “But only then. For now, if they take me at the café, I’ll throw that paper away.”

 

Theo let out a small triumphant babble, as if celebrating the decision or simply laughing at Mimzy’s voice on the phone.

 

“Alright, that works for me,” Mimzy conceded. “But don’t ignore me and promise you’ll call me. I’ll help you with whatever you need if you choose that option.”

 

“I promise,” Alastor replied. “And thank you for worrying, sweetheart. You know you don’t have to, I’ll always find a way.”

 

“Please! That’s what friends are for.”

 

He hung up carefully after exchanging a few more words, setting the phone aside and wanting to purge the panic his omega was cultivating like a damn amateur. He turned all his attention back to Theo, who was already losing interest in the food and starting to play with what remained on the tray.

 

“We’re done here, little thing,” Alastor said, wiping his mouth with his little deer-patterned cloth. “You did an admirable job.”

 

Theo leaned his head back, satisfied by his mother’s pleased tone and Alastor freed him from the baby seat with expert movements. He took him in his arms, settling him against his chest and already catching the scent of the results of the baby having eaten too much, wrinkling his nose.

 

“Let’s get ready and change that diaper, sweetheart,” he murmured, resting his cheek against his fuzzy little head. “Let’s take those chubby cheeks out for a walk.” He hoped the café still had that position available.

 

🌸

 

The little bell above the door of Sweet Dream tinkled with a soft, cheerful sound when Alastor entered with Theo securely strapped against his chest in the baby carrier. The baby kicked his little legs and greeted everyone who passed by, ears twitching.

 

The place was full of people.

 

Not just people, but colors. Although Alastor could only perceive cool colors, he could tell much of the place had reds and variations because he couldn’t see them. There were also many aromas, display cases filled with sweets shining like jewels that caught Theo’s attention, impossible layered cakes, perfectly aligned macarons with little phrases on them, thick drinks crowned with aromatic foam and spices, perfectly decorated to post a photo on social media like many of the young people were doing. The air was warm from the crowd, heavy with sugar, coffee, and the bold facade that matched the expressive personality of the shop’s owner, showing more of her strong character.

 

Theo’s eyes widened immediately at the amount of smells and things. His little ears went alert, swiveling from side to side, processing the noise, the voices, the constant movement, and he snuggled into his mother’s neck for protection. He made a small surprised sound and clutched Alastor’s clothes a little tighter.

 

“It’s okay,” Alastor murmured, adjusting him with an instinctive gesture. “I got you, baby.”

 

Before he could take another step forward, a man in a rage passed by his side, almost shoving him. He couldn’t see him and wasn’t touched, but the proximity was close enough. Alastor’s inner omega twisted violently and wanted to bare its teeth at the pathetic bastard who wasn’t paying attention. It was an immediate and deep reaction, like a harsh yank from inside telling him to get aggressive. The scent the stranger left behind was oppressive and heavy, loaded with irritation and the weight of a humid day, something that didn’t want to be there. That person… wasn’t a common alpha. It was something denser, sharper, and bigger. It made his omega go on the defensive instantly, like a bristling cat with pressure deep in the chest.

 

Theo whimpered softly, uncomfortable, as he pressed closer to him.

 

“Shh…” Alastor whispered immediately, turning his body slightly to shield him when he heard the door slam open behind them. “It’s okay.”

 

The man didn’t look at anyone, and Alastor watched his back, he seemed angry. He left the café with tense shoulders, as if the whole world owed him something. The door slammed shut behind him.

 

What was his damn problem?

 

Alastor watched him a second longer than necessary as he got into his car that… had scratched on it… the word “whore” and a large cock on the door.

 

What.

 

“Ah…” he murmured, frowning in confusion. Wasn’t that… the guy from television?

 

He gently shook his head, as if dismissing the feeling and moved deeper into the place. Behind the main counter, surrounded by employees moving like a well-trained swarm, was Velvette and her beautiful, ever-present appearance.

 

Sitting on the edge of the bar like she owned the place (she did), one leg crossed and her phone in hand, she laughed without the slightest restraint, slapping her thigh and kicking her feet. Her laughter was loud, rough and contagious. Her hair was deliberately messily tied up, giving her a domestic, endearing look, and an energy that filled the space even without trying. Her ears were small and reddish, perked upward with amusement.

 

“I swear he was fucking red, babe, oh my ffffuck,” she was saying into a voice message on her phone, not lowering her voice. “Vincent is a mess, I swear, he can’t get rid of his stupid ex, and he makes it everyone’s problem. It’s so easy to mess with him when he’s in a bad mood it almost makes me fond of him… almost.”

 

She let out another loud laugh, slapping her leg again. Alastor raised an eyebrow, confused by the woman’s happiness despite himself.

 

Then Velvette looked up and saw him. Her eyes lit up immediately, and her smile widened.

 

“By all the fucking rings of hell! Allie?!” she exclaimed. The phone nearly went flying as she dropped it without care and cut off the audio with whoever she’d been talking to. She hopped off the counter with surprising agility and crossed the space in three strides of her tall designer heels.

 

“Look at that! Fuck, look at that!” she said, pointing directly at Theo. “Such a big ball of fur! When I saw him the first time he was the size of a little fist.”

 

Before Alastor could react or greet her, Velvette was already in front of him.

 

“Hello, precious little thing of auntie Vel,” she sang, sticking her hands in without permission and pulling the baby out of the carrier. “Come with me, gorgeous. What’s that pretty outfit? Oh right, I gave it to your mommy. Ha!”

 

“Vel. Dear—” Alastor began.

 

“Oh, shut up, grandpa. I’m having an important conversation with this cutie,” she cut him off with a scowl. “Look at that chubby face. Look at those ears and that soft little hair, owww.”

 

Theo let out a small surprised sound, but he didn’t cry, the woman’s scent didn’t seem to bother him. He stayed stiff for a second, processing the change, then frowned when Velvette squished him enthusiastically against her chest while spinning around.

 

“He’s a living plushie!” she declared. “So soft. Oww. I’m taking him.”

 

“Please, darling, refrain from unnecessary kidnappings,” Alastor replied with complete calm, rolling his eyes. “He just had breakfast.” He warned her when Theo let out a small burp, but that didn’t seem to bother her.

 

“To hell with that,” she said naturally. “If he pukes, let him. I’ll clean it.” Her cleaning staff behind the counter widened their eyes in disbelief. Theo chose that precise moment to grab a lock of her bangs. “Ah, ha ha! Look at that little devil,” Velvette laughed. “He’s got character. I like him.”

 

Alastor watched the scene with resigned patience, hands clasped behind his back, rocking slightly on his feet like someone waiting out a familiar storm. He glanced at the watch on his wrist while Velvette exhausted what little love she had for any living being on someone else’s baby.

 

“I see the place keeps thriving, as always. It’s a joy,” he commented. “Despite your questionable handling methods, you have many employees.”

 

“Tsk, of course. It thrives precisely because my methods are questionable,” she replied arrogantly. “People love chaos. And without a firm hand, there are no good employees.”

 

Finally, after another unnecessary squeeze and a loud kiss on the child’s cheek, Velvette reluctantly handed Theo back when the baby began searching for his mother.

 

“Alright, alright,” she said disappointed. “Go to your mother before I throw my attitude out the window and adopt you. You’re a sweet little thing. Who’s the prettiest little thing? Yes~ you are, sweetheart. But not more than your aunt…”

 

Alastor took him immediately, settling him back against his chest and shifting the carrier aside. Theo snuggled in without protest and scent-marked strongly at his gland, though he kept his eyes wide open, watching the half-hyena alpha woman with curiosity. His ears flattened against his little head.

 

“Ouh, he’s adorable,” Velvette said, crossing her arms and looking at him with wide eyes. “What brings you here, Al? Don’t tell me you just came to show off your offspring. Just because my wife and I can’t have pups doesn’t mean we won’t adopt someday. You’ll see.”

 

Alastor smiled politely.

 

“Not at all, sweetness. I’m looking for work,” he said. “I was told you needed an employee. I wanted to know if the position was still available.”

 

Velvette blinked, eyebrows lifting. “Hm? Are we in trouble?”

 

“You could call it that. Duty demands leaving confinement.”

 

Alastor adjusted Theo more securely against his chest as they moved past the counter space, following Velvette. The bustle of Sweet Dream was constant, machines whistling, cutlery clinking against plates, overlapping voices, laughter, and the clatter of cups. Too many stimuli together for a baby and Theo felt it immediately.

 

The little fawn pressed his forehead to Alastor’s neck and hid his face in the fabric of his turtleneck sweater. His little ears folded back uneasy and his fingers clutched tightly, searching for something to hold onto in his mother amid so many unfamiliar scents.

 

“It’s alright, fluffball,” Alastor murmured, leaning slightly over him. “You don’t have to look at anything if you don’t want to.”

 

He rocked gently while patting his back, shifting just enough to soothe him, imperceptible to others, to shield and protect his little ball of fur. Theo responded by settling more comfortably, breathing in the familiar scent only he could detect with his ever-curious nose. Velvette watched them with a crooked smile.

 

“It always surprises me how refined you all are, despite your horrible taste in outdated fashion. You raised him well,” she commented, looking at her nails. “At that age, if my mom dressed me like you do, I’d already be biting someone to the bone.”

 

“I don’t doubt it, sweetness,” Alastor replied courteously. “Every species has its talents. With such good defensive skills as yours, I would too.”

 

“I’m sure you did too, little deer. Those teeth of yours aren’t for eating leaves.”

 

Alastor shrugged innocently while returning his gaze around the place.

 

“Caught.”

 

Velvette let out a harsh laugh and leaned against the counter, bending toward Theo as she blew on one of his ears, which immediately pulled back in annoyance.

 

“Still, look at him,” she said, stretching out a finger to touch his cheek. “He’s very overwhelmed, poor thing.”

 

Theo lifted his gaze just slightly with big eyes, assessing her cautiously and then went back to hiding in his mom’s neck with a whine. Velvette made an exaggerated little sound, completely charmed.

 

“Oh, and he’s shy! Cute little pup.”

 

“It’s not shyness,” Alastor corrected, shaking his head. “He’s just a very prudent little pup. Not every day does a predator approach you without wanting to attack.”

 

“You offend me, old man. Though of course, how could I not have expected him to be prudent at such a young age?” she conceded. “He’s just like his mother, who seems to have a radio and a dictionary instead of vocal cords.”

 

Alastor ignored the comment calmly and went straight back to the point. “About the position…”

 

Velvette sighed and straightened up, a bit more serious. “Look, Al, I won’t lie to you,” she said. “I’ve only got one spot left. Eight to two shift as a waiter. Lots of movement and hellish rush hours now that high season’s coming. But it’s good pay.”

 

Alastor nodded slowly.

 

“I understand.”

 

“And I don’t know if it’s viable for you with the little fawn,” she continued, clearing her throat with a relaxed pose, leaning on one hip. “Not because you’re incapable, don’t get me wrong. It’s obvious you know how to handle a pup. But this is constant chaos, strong smells, stupid people that need to be put in their place…” she glanced at Theo with concern. “And he’s already a bit saturated just being here.”

 

Theo, as if he had understood her, let out a small whine and clutched Alastor’s clothes tighter while rubbing his little face into his mom’s neck.

 

“Yes,” Alastor said with a soft sigh, his eyelids lowering slightly under raised brows. “I know.”

 

“Besides, doll,” Velvette added, “there’s another girl who applied yesterday. I haven’t read her resume yet, but I can’t stretch the waiting time much. I need staff now, and you know I’d wait for you but… everything’s very complicated.”

 

Alastor lowered his gaze for a second, reflecting on it. He couldn’t blame her, it was understandable, but another disappointment piled up on himself. His ears tilted slightly back, a minimal but revealing gesture of his mood. When he looked up again, his expression was calm.

 

“I understand perfectly, Vel, sweetheart. There’s no problem with that. Don’t feel pressured,” he said. “And I know it’s not an easy decision for you. I’m glad you’re honest about it.”

 

Velvette watched him closely, her loose smile giving way to something more genuine, a worried grimace on her pretty face.

 

“Still,” she began, lowering her voice, “if you need help, I’ve told you already. I can cover you. Money, diapers, whatever, for an old friend. It won’t screw me over at all. My dear alpha and I are loaded, darling. We’re going on a trip next month. So just snap your fingers and send a message with your card number.”

 

Alastor blinked in surprise and then shook his head, a slight but firm smile on his face. He didn’t want charity, it felt like begging, and his ears drooped completely.

 

“I truly appreciate it,” he replied. “But I can’t accept that.”

 

“Pride?” she asked, arching a brow.

 

“Dignity,” he corrected. “If I live only off others’ help, it’s pathetic. I studied and worked for this, I just need to find the time and something that gives me temporary money until he’s a bit bigger.”

 

Velvette clicked her tongue but didn’t push it. When Alastor was stubborn, he didn’t drop the act for anyone, no matter who begged.

 

“Well, tasteless little deer, I appreciate your honesty too,” she said. “But the money offer stays available if you think you have the time and let me know within the next 24 hours. I don’t like seeing my people having a hard time.”

 

Alastor inclined his head in gratitude.

 

“I’ll keep it in mind. And…” he looked at Theo, “if nothing comes up here, I’ll see what other alternative is viable.”

 

Theo lifted his head again, looking at him with those big, trusting eyes, still with a little pout. Alastor adjusted one ear with gentle fingers and smiled at him.

 

“Anything comes up, I’ll call you. Let me know if it’s still available once I see if I can organize this,” he told Velvette, even though he knew it wouldn’t be possible. He couldn’t be away from Theo for long, and he definitely couldn’t bring him along.

 

“Do that,” she replied. “And bring him more often, for God’s sake. This place needs more little cuties and fewer fucking unbearable assholes!” She growled the last part at two guys passing by, who jumped and hurried away.

 

Theo made a small sound, as if accepting the compliment but still not fully trusting her. Alastor took a step back, preparing to leave, his body slightly leaned forward to protect the pup. As they moved away from the counter, Velvette followed them with her gaze and, still smiling, whistled and waved at them.

 

“Good luck, Al. Really. Maybe some good idiot will drop from the sky.”

 

He didn’t answer with words. Only with an elegant incline of his head, while Theo cuddled against his chest and waved with his little hand at Velvette, who died of cuteness right then and there. Sweet Dream stayed behind them as they walked away with tired steps.

 

What else could be done.

 

🌸

 

The apartment door closed behind them with a dull sound, far too final for the time of day. The overdue electricity and gas bills were piled there, the land one too. Alastor dropped the keys onto the small entry table first, then the bag, then the full weight of his body against the wall for a second longer than necessary after carrying the baby’s weight and the few groceries for another day for many hours. The apartment’s silence wrapped around him immediately, barely broken by the distant hum of the fridge and the sound of the old radio he had forgotten to turn off.

 

Theo shifted in his arms, exhausted from so much external stimulation, smells, and people. His poor sense of smell had to be saturated. His ears, which during the day had been fully alert, now drooped limp and powerless at the sides of his little head. Alastor carefully lowered him to the floor, letting go only when he was sure he could hold himself up.

 

He didn’t know how to walk very well yet, and that worried Alastor because by one year old the young already walked, but he took a few steps and then squatted down and started crawling on his own. He would have to take him to the doctor later.

 

“Slowly, my life.”

 

Theo took a step with shaky little legs, Alastor’s hands still at his sides just in case. Then another step and another. His legs trembled like twigs in the wind before a storm again. He swayed dangerously and then stabilized again, but he didn’t cry, he kept moving forward with his little hands stretched out to the sides, close to his mom’s, guided more by memory than by sight.

 

The small improvised nest in the living room, made of old blankets, cushions, and a folded piece of Alastor’s clothing on top, was waiting for him as always. Theo let himself fall there without ceremony, rolling clumsily like a little ball until he settled on his side. He stretched out one small hand, fingers opening and closing in the air toward Alastor, who dragged himself tiredly after him. But he didn’t crawl into that nest, it was too small for him.

 

“Mma…” the baby pouted, calling him.

 

Alastor stayed still for a second, watching him. Fatigue fell over him like a delayed blow, they had gone out in the morning and now it was already night. He rubbed his face with both hands, dragging them from his chin up to his forehead, careful with his claws, as if he could push the day and its misfortunes out of himself with that alone.

 

He had searched. He really had searched. It wasn’t the first time, he’d been doing it for months already. Because, for some reason, his omega sensed that something would happen, so he had printed several resume just in case.

 

Resumes on paper too white for the places he left them in, but there was no other option, he repeated to himself, handing them over to faces that looked at him badly. Poorly lit positions, bars that smelled of rancid alcohol with schedules that didn’t involve bringing Theo and that Rosie could watch him sleeping without worrying about her own job, shops where alphas looked him up and down before even reading his name and licked their disgusting fangs.

 

Omega, that’s what they said without saying it, with that lustful look in their eyes. His age, gender, or animal didn’t matter, being an omega was enough and it disgusted him to the bone. Omega with a child, that they said outright. He completely skipped those places and bared his sharp fangs at several alphas who growled at him for his rebellion, but he didn’t bend.

 

‘It’s not personal.’

 

‘We can’t adjust schedules.’

 

‘Maybe we can arrange something another way…’

 

‘I’ve never seen a male deer omega.’

 

‘I can give you a position but I want something in return.’

 

‘We don’t accept omegas unless it’s for…’

 

‘Omega, you’re an omega.’

 

‘You? An omega? Working here? Forget it.’

 

‘It’s not an environment for that.’

 

That. They had called his baby ‘that.’ He ran out of that place before ripping a piece out of the rat hybrid who had said such stupidity.

 

Alastor walked to the table and saw Mimzy’s paper there, exactly where he had put it back. A simple, poorly cut rectangle, with quickly written, almost mocking letters. He took it between his fingers, unfolded it, and smoothed it out again.

 

Should he look into the place? Should he really?

 

Theo called him again, this time with a clearer whine, shaking his little legs. Alastor went to the nest and carefully sat right beside it, crossing his legs around the small warm body. Theo sat up slightly and leaned against his belly, rubbing there, as if remembering the first place where he slept and lived for months.

 

Alastor ran a hand down his back slowly. His body curved completely around the nest, closing the space.

 

He unfolded the paper and read it several times until the vulgar name etched itself into his mind. Even though each reading weighed a bit more than the last.

 

It weighed like negative numbers piling up in his head.

 

It wasn’t illegal… but it wasn’t healthy either, and exposing himself like that was the same as exposing himself to those alphas he had fled from. Vulgar, he had said. Saying it like that had been easier than admitting he was afraid.

 

‘You don’t have to do anything, there are weirdos who just like to talk…’

 

Would there be?

 

Theo rested his forehead against his belly and sighed deeply. His little hands clutched the fabric of his shirt, searching for warmth and tugging when he got hungry. Right, he hadn’t given him milk because they were out, and it risked being pointed at and threatened if he fed him outside. Alastor lowered his head and brushed his lips against the fuzzy crown with tiny antlers, where the hair was finer and lighter, between reddish and chestnut.

 

He sighed slowly.

 

Theo shifted again against him, letting out a short, soft whine, that sound between breath and throat he made when something inside him asked without knowing how to put it into words. Alastor reacted before even thinking. His body always did, ever since he had the baby.

 

He lifted Theo into his arms and carefully sat in the small nest, arranging the blankets, forming that imperfect and perfect circle at once that smelled like home. Him. Both of them, their home. The world completely ceased to exist while he sat there.

 

“Shh… I’ve got you, little one,” he murmured.

 

Theo latched clumsily at first as soon as he lowered his shirt a bit, groping. Alastor loosened the shirt and let the plush, abundant fur of his chest part slightly like a natural refuge. It wasn’t a large or defined bust underneath, after all, he was male. His body wasn’t entirely delicate, but it retained certain characteristics for caring for young. The fur was soft, warm and abundant, dense enough not to conceal any shape that might resemble what it was: an omega and a mother. Many used to mistake him for a ‘she’ instead of a ‘he’ until he spoke. People didn’t worry so much about it.

 

The little one found what he was looking for and calmed immediately while feeding.

 

The change was always like that for him. The tiny body stopped tensing and the legs settled curled up. One little hand instinctively clutched the fur carefully, as if fearing something might take him away if he let go of his mom.

 

Alastor leaned his head against the old broken sofa behind the nest and closed his eyes for a moment. His body responded on its own. Production was abundant on certain days, it always had been. Though now that Theo was a slightly bigger baby he produced less than when he was pregnant, it was still enough to make it drip and ache. Theo simply clung to him, occasionally wagging his tiny, still clumsy tail, barely tapping Alastor’s arm that held him.

 

His omega was tired and wounded, responding with a low murmur in his chest to his baby, as if holding him were a crime. Trying to purr openly but producing nothing more than a weak, tired whine from his throat, a barely perceptible vibration that only Theo could feel. It wasn’t what he intended, but it was a way of telling his young that he was safe when words weren’t enough to make him understand.

 

The paper slipped back into his mind, lying beside his leg.

 

He pressed his lips together.

 

“We don’t… need that, do we?” he whispered to himself and his omega. “We don’t, right…?”

 

Theo made no sound, of course, he didn’t understand and Alastor knew he wasn’t talking to him. He just drank trustingly, completely oblivious to any silly piece of paper, money, or deadlines. His entire world was nothing more than warmth, his mother’s smell, and the heartbeat beneath the chest he fed from.

 

Alastor lowered his head and gently rested his forehead against the little one’s. His ears relaxed, drooping slightly to the sides of his head, and his tail moved in slow undulations, marking territory unconsciously as he always did. A small, almost invisible gesture, but one that seemed to calm him.

 

God, he missed his alpha. Everything would be easier if—

 

Ha…

 

The thought appeared without permission as it always did. The image was blurry, and his omega clawed inside him for him, for the warmth he had and lost. The memory of someone helping him endure life, and a voice affirming that his future was meant for both of them, affirming that they were made for each other. Alastor knew his omega loved him, that they had the bond, and that intensified things a bit more, but…

 

They weren’t destined. They never were. His omega had never met his destined alpha yet, he would know the moment he looked into their eyes. It was the only way to recognize a destined one: their eyes connected and their scents mixed. But that hadn’t happened yet. And it hadn’t happened with his alpha either, but that never stopped their love.

 

The emptiness hurt more in moments like this.

 

Theo finished feeding and stayed latched a few seconds longer out of habit and security. Alastor didn’t rush him to let go because he knew he would cry. He never did. When he finally released, the little one let out a deep sigh and cuddled closer against his chest, burying his face in the fur and breathing in his scent with need. Alastor covered him better, adjusted a blanket, and watched as he finally succumbed to sleep in his arms.

 

He leaned back more against the old sofa and closed his eyes for a moment, swaying slightly while giving small pats on his back. His ears folded to the sides, tired.

 

He read the paper again. Once more.

 

Alright. He could look into it.

 

🌸

 

Alastor waited until the house was completely silent before acting. Theo slept peacefully in his crib after he laid him there, small and curled up, one little leg hanging and gently kicking between the blankets. From time to time he twitched his ears in his sleep, as if something invisible brushed his snout and smiled toothlessly. Alastor lingered a second longer than necessary watching him, making sure his chest rose and fell in that soft rhythm that always loosened something in his heart, ensuring he was fully asleep, leaving the door ajar to hear anything out of place, after all, his room was right next door. Finally, he left as if he didn’t want to wake even the sleeping air.

 

The old cellphone protested when he turned it on after a few hours. Cracks crossed the screen like a scar begging for euthanasia once and for all, and the side button only worked if pressed with faith… a lot of faith and a bit of patience.

 

When he entered his room, Alastor settled onto his bed, throwing himself onto it tiredly, lying on his abdomen with his legs stretched out and his large and fluffy tail relaxed over his back.

 

He stared at the search bar as if it were some kind of evil or danger, nibbling on one of his claws while still thinking it through. Should he…?

 

Oh, to hell with it. He took a deep breath before typing the name with trembling fingers, adding the rest of the link.

 

OmegaGleam.

 

The page loaded with dramatic slowness, as if it doubted itself too, and his phone almost froze while doing so, going black for a second before loading in pieces. When it finally appeared in full, his eyes narrowed slightly in distrust and his ears pinned back in alert.

 

“Oh…” he murmured, eyes widening abruptly.

 

The aesthetic was something strangely ugly and yet far too suggestive. Black background with violet sparkles falling like a badly layered overlay behind it, fonts that seemed to scream “this is sexy” with far too much insistence while being absolutely the opposite, animated banners blinking with zero visual shame even before he pressed them. Alastor squinted and scrolled down quickly when a huge monstrous bear-hybrid cock appeared in front of him. He almost flung the phone across the room.

 

The second thumbnail showed someone covered in pink feathers, wearing a cat mask and a collar that read Daddy please in bright letters. An albino spider-hybrid man writhing while shaking his ass on camera.

 

“Ha… no, thanks,” he muttered before scrolling down just as fast. He kept scrolling for a few seconds and every thing was worse than the last.

 

An omega with rabbit ears counted money while making exaggerated pouts and spreading his legs desperately for a machine, tail wagging. Another streamed from a bathtub filled with foam, too much foam, to the point of looking like a suspiciously living cloud, wearing an outfit made only of strings and some… exorbitant, massive breasts. Another, completely serious, seemed to be giving a motivational talk while wrapped in red lights, lingerie, and dramatic background music, as if he were about to summon something at any moment. But he had a giant dildo shoved up his ass.

 

Alastor let out a long, horrified sigh, resting his chin on his hand and wanting to smash his head against the nearest wall. Of course, he was an adult, an adult who had voluntarily entered an adult site.

 

All he could think about was how low Mimzy’s standards must have fallen to get into this, and his own for listening. Damn it. It wasn’t that a couple of genitals scandalized him. He’d seen worse during his time as a pianist in a club and that stint as a bartender, with alleys forgotten by the sight of God packed with depraved and filthy people. But this was louder visually. Excessively colorful with toys he had never seen, so large. Everything screamed for attention. Begged for entry, for the click on the thumbnail. But the page was certainly dubious. He closed a pop-up window promising “fast earnings just by being yourself ;)” and a very demonstrative woman.

 

He made a small grimace. In this short span of time he had seen more naked skin than in most of his life.

 

Even so, he kept looking with curiosity. He had never had the impulse to enter such sites and generally during heat seasons his alpha helped him with it, and even then everything between them was very traditional, nothing outside vanilla practices. So he never felt urges or curiosity. But now that he was alone again, he didn’t know what to feel about it… it was so… strange.

 

There were calmer profiles, almost hidden among all the glitter, asses, and enormous cocks. Some were couples having casual sex, others chatting while doing it, omegas with omegas, some going slow with music and a less exaggerated angle, among others. Not everyone seemed to be there for the same thing or with the same mindset, and that loosened the stiffness in his shoulders a little.

 

He shifted more comfortably on the bed, the white shirt hanging loosely over his chest and the fluff peeking out like a soft pom-pom. He adjusted when he felt himself fill again and ache slightly. He didn’t notice it, but there was something delicate about his figure when he was like this, without a stage other than his own bed, with no one else, just him and the low buzz of the phone.

 

He didn’t know if this would really work.

 

The page seemed tasteless, yes, but also… practical. It wasn’t very complicated. Many videos showed a large number of viewers, others showed the money they earned. It was a strange, loud market, but maybe there was room for something different. Something quieter that might interest someone who thought like him. Something that didn’t involve him and… things… in his ass. That would be great.

 

He thought about the old camera stored in a box with the tripod, the laptop Rosie had given him “in case one day you get tired of being an obsolete old man.” He never used it for anything other than cooking tutorials or videos of old orchestras. Or that one time he spent half an hour setting a photo of himself and Theo as the background. Maybe the day had come to use it a bit more. He could try something simple for his first time now that he was alone.

 

Talking.

 

Chatting with whoever came in. Talking about anything. Telling stories, giving advice. Letting his voice do what it had always done since radio became his passion, wrap around, hold, and attract those who wanted to listen. He didn’t have to do anything weird. He didn’t have to become anything he wasn’t. He could do it like this, simple.

 

“Just chatting, just chatting,” he whispered to himself nervously, his omega squirming slightly. “That I know how to do.”

 

He leaned closer and glanced toward Theo’s bedroom door, feeling that familiar pull in his chest toward his baby, still calm, sleeping peacefully. He was very tired; he’d sleep for a long while, so Alastor could do something.

 

He returned to the bed and crawled onto it, falling onto his stomach again while holding his phone.

 

‘OmegaGleam’ still glowed questionably in front of him with its obscene banner and ugly typography. Alastor tilted his head thoughtfully and didn’t close the page right away, even though his fingers itched to.

 

It took him several minutes to decide to touch the button that said ‘create profile’ and let the interface open before him. Not because it was complicated, it was a blinking violet rectangle with almost insulting enthusiasm and a tasteless little mascot, but because doing it made something real that he still wanted to keep as a distant idea. This wasn’t right. Still, he sighed and pressed it with a claw, making a small click against the cracked screen. The page changed immediately.

 

A long, endless form unfolded before him like an interrogation, an interview appearing literally out of nowhere, an interface that lit his face so brightly it made him squint and pull the phone away.

 

“Ah, what the f…” he muttered, rubbing one eye and lowering an ear in displeasure. “Nothing says ‘welcome’ quite like an interrogation.”

 

He adjusted himself on the mattress, lying flat on his stomach, and completely unconsciously began rubbing one of his legs with the inner edge of a hoof. The motion was slow and repetitive, more a way to release nerves than to seek comfort or scratch an itch. His tail swayed back and stretched upward now and then with curiosity, barely moving side to side, while his ears rotated attentively every time something new appeared on the screen.

 

‘Username’

 

He blinked lazily, humming low in his throat with indecision. Maybe something calm or a name like the radio? Hm…

 

He typed something slowly, then deleted it just as slowly. Typed something else and deleted it again, the keyboard noise irritating him. Everything seemed too pretentious, ridiculous or just a bad idea. He wasn’t twenty anymore to be doing this like some young man who could afford luxuries here and there. It made him feel a bit out of place. So he ended up writing something simple that fit him. Too simple for the site’s standards, probably, but definitely suited someone like him.

 

“RadioStag.” The system accepted it without protest or verification, which gave him no confidence at all. Or maybe it was just too boring when the calmest thing there was ‘shiny ass waiting for daddy.’

 

Holy God.

 

There were worse things.

 

Age, thirty-nine. Nothing to discuss there. The number appeared solid and immovable, like a fact he had already learned to carry with maturity, most days. He had accepted that he wasn’t young anymore and that his hair had a few grays here and there, though some were more stress-related than anything.

 

Caste, omega.

 

The word weighed more than expected when he selected the option among so many. Not because he was ashamed, he was proud, in fact, but because on a page like this it meant many things he had no intention of fulfilling. Still, he selected it with a firm click, noticing that the number of people choosing ‘omega’ was the smallest. Alphas and betas dominated.

 

Species-Hybrid, Deer. His ears lifted with quiet dignity when his animal appeared almost first, even though there were only seven registered deer, and his tail gave a small satisfied flick against his back. The most common animals were insect types and marine types.

 

“Hm…”

 

The next section seemed designed by someone with an overly active imagination or someone bored who wanted to laugh at the idiots filling out that damn form.

 

“Describe your vibe?” Alastor tilted his head curiously. The fluff of his chest pressed harder into the mattress as he leaned closer to the phone, hooves shifting behind him with interest, brushing the sheet with a soft sound. “My… vibe? What is that?”

 

After googling it and trying to understand as best he could through a few forums, he typed slowly based on what he had understood, carefully, as if each word were a delicate piece of glass.

 

‘Calm and good. Loud but soft voice. I like chatting, telling stories and listening to others.’

 

He reread it about three times uncertainly. Added a comma. Removed a couple of adjectives, added connectors, reread it as if the sentence were incredibly long.

 

“I suppose that’s harmless enough,” he decided quietly.

 

Interests? The dropdown list was ambitious, and a bit intense…

 

Sexy cooking. ASMR. BDSM. Hard Kinks. Bondage. Roleplay. Watersports. Femdom. Absolute domination. Absolute submission. Silent companionship. Just vibing and a long list below.

 

Alastor frowned and deliberately ignored everything else to focus on the most normal option.

 

“What the hell is just vibing now?” He checked Night chatting, Casual chatting and after a brief pause, Silent companionship. That last one felt like a bit much because it could imply something else, but he figured he could always clarify. When he clicked accept and continue, the next step loaded.

 

Profile picture time. He froze briefly at the screen. Looked at the dark reflection of his face in the cracked glass, his pretty face barely visible, tired eyes with a few crow’s feet but attentive, almost hidden beneath dark brown curls falling over his forehead and ears standing upright though relaxed. He wasn’t groomed for a decent photo, and he shouldn’t put a real picture there anyway. It wouldn’t be safe.

 

“Maybe no.”

 

He selected the random temporary image option, and the site quickly assigned him a generic silhouette of a man with absurdly large antlers and a suspiciously flirtatious smile. Just the silhouette and smile, but still ridiculous. Alastor watched it warily.

 

“That looks nothing like me,” he decided. “But I suppose it’ll scare off the reckless… or something like that. I think.”

 

Finally, the button appeared at the bottom of the page, making him sigh in relief.

 

‘Finish profile creation.’

 

He pressed it with some hesitation. The screen loaded for a few seconds and then, well, there it was. Fully loaded.

 

His profile.

 

Complete, even if a few things were still missing, like his credit card and email, which he entered shortly afterward, after doing an intense search on how to cancel his card in case he’d been an idiot. Finally, he was ready. Alastor stared at the phone as if it were a strange object left on his bed by mistake that might explode if he touched it. His ears tilted back slightly as embarrassment crept up his spine. What the hell was he doing at his age? His tail pulled closer to his back with a tremor, and his hooves stopped moving.

 

“It’s done,” he murmured, scratching behind his ear with a claw. “Don’t regret it. Don’t do it now.”

 

He didn’t feel particularly excited nor embarrassed enough to back out. More expectant. A little curious, though he hated to admit it, like dropping a letter in a mailbox and having nothing left to do but wait for the mailman to pick it up. He locked the phone and set it aside when his eyes started to burn. The fluff of his chest expanded again as he relaxed into the mattress, breathing slowly, stretching comfortably among the sheets of his personal nest with a soft, faint scent. Not his own essence clearly, fabric softener, but pleasant nonetheless.

 

From the other room, Theo made a small sleepy sound, something between a sigh and a soft bleat. Alastor smiled faintly, guessing he was dreaming again.

 

“Alright. Whatever this is,” he whispered, exhaling, “we’re trying. Okay? Okay.” It didn’t help really, it didn’t, but he had to try to encourage himself. Especially when his omega huffed inside him, heavy with unease.

 

Alastor rose carefully from the bed, as if the slightest abrupt movement might alert the baby in the next room, even though his hooves inevitably made a small click each time they softly struck the floor.

 

The camera was where he remembered, or well, more or less. He had to search for it for quite a while. A time-worn cardboard box presented itself pitifully, labeled in Rosie’s handwriting from long ago: “This still works, don’t be dramatic.” With an angry little face beside it. Alastor eyed it suspiciously before opening it, almost expecting a beast to leap out. But under the lid, the camera rested wrapped in an old pink-and-red scarf, as if it too needed warmth for the winter already past.

 

“Lovely,” he murmured amusedly, probably Rosie’s, removing it gently, like a nervous creature that might attack him at any moment. The laptop was even worse. It sat at the back of the closet under too many things, beneath piles of papers, old sheet music, and a portable radio that no longer worked but that he cherished. When he pulled it out, a small cloud of dust rose in protest from the cover, yet the screen still glowed with a small blue dot indicating a full battery from how little he’d used it. Alastor sneezed at the dust, his ears flicking involuntarily and his tail giving an irritated lash. Damn it, he should dust in there later.

 

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he began the ritual of cables he didn’t understand and that deeply irritated him. One wouldn’t fit, another needed to be rotated exactly three degrees to the left to cooperate due to wear. The USB port had clearly been designed by someone with a grudge against the world or Alastor simply needed to use technology more.

 

No. Never that. There were times and times.

 

Alastor frowned as he focused, the tip of his dark tongue peeking between his lips in concentration. His fluff bristled and flattened against his shirt as he leaned or stressed, hooves tapping softly on the floor as he shifted positions to see what had gone wrong.

 

“Don’t look at me like that, damn it,” he told the camera with exasperation. He felt like a lunatic in a psychiatric ward. “I don’t fully understand you either, and you don’t understand me. We’re even, right?” After an amount of time he preferred not to quantify, if he didn’t want to embarrass himself beyond limits, the computer made a sound as it started up. Not encouraging, but not completely disastrous either. The screen lit slowly, with tired dignity, before the background of him and his baby appeared.

 

“Despicable thing,” he muttered at the computer. Before sitting in front of it on the bed, Alastor went to the wardrobe and chose something… simpler. A buttonless shirt, thinner and lighter, soft fabric that draped without clinging too much but had a very deep neckline. He usually wore it around the house, better than what he’d had on, which covered nothing. His clean and comfortable underwear was large like shorts; it seemed appropriate. Nothing meant to impress anyone. Just to be there, like a companion before going to sleep. His body didn’t need stupid, flashy ornaments, his presence had always been enough to draw the audience he sought.

 

He returned to the bed and set the camera up in front of the mattress. He wasn’t sure it was exactly a setting meant for talking, but what other alternatives were there? He tested a few angles without really knowing what he was doing, he hadn’t used that old thing in a long time. First it was too high, then too low. Then he stood directly in front of the lens and checked whether having himself in frame could help him adjust it. But in one he looked like a frightened deer and in another it was an overly intimate shot of his collarbone.

 

“How hard can these little gadgets be? They don’t seem to give people that much trouble.”

 

He looked things up a bit more on his phone, which he knew how to handle slightly better. ‘How to make a camera work.’ ‘How to stream video and not break everything in the process.’ ‘Camera angles.’ He read contradictory advice, closed suspicious pop-up windows while carefully choosing which advice actually helped, and decided he had learned enough to avoid setting the house on fire.

 

Finally, he aimed the camera properly toward the bed and the improvised nest he had on it, without anything else sneaking into frame. Even if it was a bit loose, the pillows slipped into the shot, the warm light from the ceiling lamp illuminating things faintly. Everything had a friendly feel to it, which was what he wanted. That it be a little cozy and feel calm. Like an invitation to sit down and talk. Yes, that was it.

 

Before starting, he looked up how to configure things and researched the site a bit on the computer. Then he grabbed the face mask and cap Mimzy had given him, with a small reindeer printed on it. Black and red. He put it on with a small grimace when he felt his ears pressed down at the sides of his head; from the camera’s perspective, they looked like part of a long hair.

 

“I never thought I’d use you for this,” he admitted under his breath as he picked a bit of lint off the fabric.

 

The mask covered half his face, softening his features even more and leaving only his orbs visible. His eyes sat beneath the shadow of the brim, large and attentive, framed by long, dark lashes. When he looked at himself on the camera, it seemed fair enough and somewhat anonymous.

 

A deer omega with androgynous features, soft and with a presence closer to comfort than to the vulgar companionship everyone who entered that site seemed to be looking for. He didn’t look scandalous. He looked like someone you could stay up late talking with.

 

Or so he believed. The truth was, he gave off something more homey, but nothing beyond that.

 

“It’s not so terrible,” he conceded, tilting his head and watching how his trapped ears could still move a little, mostly from nerves.

 

He thought about who might see him, of course he did, but it wasn’t like he had many acquaintances he feared. Strangers, people he didn’t know, people who had no expectations of him. And if they knew he was a deer… so what? He wasn’t the only deer in the city, in fact, there were others on the platform. And he sincerely doubted anyone from the radio or his circle was browsing porn sites like OmegaGleam at that hour of the night.

 

Mimzy already knew everything, and she was the only one he cared about knowing.

 

Alastor took a deep breath. His ears shifted forward like two locks of hair, his tail relaxed behind him, and for the first time since opening the page he thought that maybe this could turn out fine… right?

 

“Just chatting,” he reminded himself, gently touching the interface where the option to stream appeared. “That’s all.”

 

With one last glance toward the door and listening carefully in case Theo made any noise, he made sure everything was in order and then pressed the button to start configuring the stream options.

 

The camera light turned on as it connected to the computer, but it hadn’t started recording yet. That little red dot didn’t seem like much, and yet it made him feel watched even when there was no one there and the lens hadn’t begun capturing anything.

 

Alastor sat on the bed on his haunches with polite stiffness, as if he were on a formal visit. Back straight, hands busy with the keyboard as he adjusted only what he understood, avoiding options with strange names. Good. It was going well. His tail settled nervously beneath him, restless, moving in slow arcs, his ears still slack on either side of his face, one attentive to the sounds of the computer, the other to the silence of the house.

 

“Alright…” he murmured, more to break his own discomfort than to announce anything.

 

The title field blinked on the screen. He wanted something casual, calm, with that harmless air.

 

So he wrote:

 

“Chat to relax in bed”

 

He read it a couple of times and it didn’t seem bad, but the third time, he blinked.

 

“…oh.”

 

Too late. He’d already pressed the accept button. He didn’t think it was thaaaat bad, at least it fit in with the rest of the site. He supposed…

 

He cleared his throat, adjusted Mimzy’s cap, far too flashy for his taste, but it was already on and looked at the viewer bar when the camera turned on and the stream began.

 

There were 0 viewers. That was fine; he was just starting, and according to what the forums said, it would probably stay that way the first few times.

 

The chat was as empty as an abandoned station.

 

So he decided to wait, lying down in the center of his improvised nest. He didn’t mind being seen because it wasn’t his official nest, so it fit the feeling he wanted to give.

 

A few minutes passed as he watched the viewer bar. Five. Then maybe ten. The number didn’t change at all even after twenty minutes had passed. No one came in and no one said anything. Maybe his attempt at not drawing attention was working a little too well… Alastor shifted, lying face-down again, the fluff of his chest flattening against the bed, spilling out from the thin fabric of his shirt. He decided that staring at the screen wasn’t going to magically make people appear, so he might as well kill time. If it didn’t work, he’d just turn off the camera and pretend nothing happened. No one would have seen anything.

 

So he lowered his gaze to the phone in his hands while he waited.

 

The game was absurd, but it worked. An endless puzzle where some guy named Austin, with an overly confident smile, asked him to redecorate his house while solving impossible puzzles to earn stars. It gave him wall options that didn’t match, horrible furniture, and questionable aesthetic decisions.

 

“You don’t need a new couch, Austin,” he murmured, looking at the older man who still lived with his parents. “You need therapy. What is that ugly rug?”

 

The game’s sound was soft and almost shy, though it was still audible on the camera. Small clicks, gentle chimes and the music was calm and light, even catchy. Alastor began humming without realizing it; it reminded him of an old melody without lyrics, something he had sung so many times on the radio that he no longer knew where it came from. He was focused, too focused. So much so that he forgot he was, in fact, live on a questionable site.

 

Austin wanted a horrible table for the upstairs living room.

 

“No,” he whispered, frowning. “Not that one.”

 

Ping.

 

Alastor startled so badly he almost dropped the phone. His ears tried to perk up but were still trapped, his tail tensed and he turned his head toward the computer with a genuinely surprised expression. Like a frightened deer.

 

The viewer bar now read: 1

 

In the chat, a single line appeared. That was what had made the sound.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

I play too, I’m on level 3567

 

Alastor blinked in disbelief. He carefully set the phone down on the bed, locking it as if it were fragile and leaned forward, crawling a little closer to the camera.

 

“Hello?” he said, his voice more surprised than he intended, staring at the chat screen with wide eyes. A few seconds passed.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Hey

First time streaming, huh? 

That camera is shit, dude

 

Alastor tilted his head. This person seemed very confident.

 

“Uh… yes. I think.” He cleared his throat. “It shows a lot, doesn’t it?”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Quite a bit

Video quality looks like Space Harrier II on the 1988 Mega Drive Mini

The retro gaming platform is over there

 

One of Alastor’s ears twitched backward, offended, but again, it was somewhat flattened. He clicked his tongue briefly. He hadn’t understood a single word that person said.

 

“Well, it’s not exactly a crime not to have a good camera,” he replied. “If I may ask… why did you choose to come in?”

 

The chat’s typing bubbles blinked, as if the person on the other side were taking their time, bored.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

I felt sorry no one was watching u

…

tbh kind of pathetic

 

Alastor opened his mouth… and closed it. His eyes narrowed in irritation, but he couldn’t refute it because it was true.

 

“Ah. Fuck you? I guess.” Still, it stung more than he expected. “How considerate,” he said finally, with a polite smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, though of course, that couldn’t be seen. “Digital philanthropy, right? Are you here to offer constructive criticism?”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

pff

Hahaha

Exactly

I’m a benefactor

 

“You think you're funny, huh?”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Hm

I'm funny

 

“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind for my acceptance speech so,” Alastor replied, settling more comfortably on the bed, huffing a little, annoyed by the way he typed. “Do you also play to avoid your responsibilities or is being a loser on these sites just a hobby?”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Well, I’m not the loser in bed

I guess that makes me a bit more worthy

Answering u

Both

Austin is a tyrant

All he needs is a damn whip

 

Alastor let out a small laugh, almost against his will. “Finally, someone who understands.”

 

An awkward silence followed for a few seconds, before the chat bubbles appeared again.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

…

So r u going to start taking off ur clothes or… is this it?

Because u r taking quite a while dude

I already have it in my hand

 

Alastor froze. The air left his lungs all at once, like he’d inhaled water and he coughed, bringing a hand to his chest, his tail tensing in pure shock. Right. It was still a porn live site, after all.

 

“My… clothes?” he stammered. “Ah… no, I don’t— don't do… um.” He stopped, swallowing when he felt a little choked. “T-this is… a chat. I don’t intend anything else,” he said finally, with dignity hanging by a thread. “You know? Like, just to pass the time.”

 

His eyes flicked toward the chat screen for a second, waiting for the response, while his inner omega squirmed uncomfortably at the word that had just been thrown at him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The chat blinked again, indicating the other person was typing. Alastor still had one hand pressed to the mattress, as if he needed to make sure the bed was still there, solid support. He took a deep breath, straightened his back, and decided, with that almost old-fashioned dignity that characterized him, not to run. Because… why should he care?

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

What

So… wasn’t roleplay?

I mean

Honest question

Have u ever done something like this before?

Do ya know what site you’re on?

 

Alastor tilted his head slightly, thoughtful. “I do. If by ‘this’ you mean talking to a camera while wearing a questionable cap and playing at being an interior designer… no. I haven’t done that.” He paused. “If you mean talking to strangers… that was, literally, my job for years.”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

I mean if u really only plan to talk or if this is some kind of foreplay

Have u ever done this in front of a camera?

 

Alastor shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond.

 

“Ah, no.” He smiled politely, even if it couldn’t be seen. “Then no. Never. I haven’t done… that… in front of a camera. I have no interest. I simply… wanted to talk about something with the people who came in.”

 

The chat took a few seconds to appear again, as if savoring Alastor’s answer.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

…Are you omega?

 

“I am,” he replied without hesitation, with calmness and certainty. He wasn’t ashamed of his secondary gender. “Male omega. Deer. Quite tired, actually,” he added, tilting his head slightly.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Interesting combination

 

“I suppose so. I hear that often,” he replied, with a hint of gentle irony. “Usually… before an inappropriate question.”

 

As if on cue, the next message appeared immediately.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

got me

So what do u know how to do?

Dirty talk?

 

Alastor rested his chin in his hand, thoughtful.

 

“No, not that. Are you speaking generally or under scandalous assumptions?”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Mmmh

Maybe both

 

“I can cook without poisoning anyone, I think. I can… um, tell stories, sing. I can listen. I know how to keep my composure when a stranger with a dubious username interrogates me,” he raised his brows. “Under the other assumptions… I’m afraid I’ll disappoint you, but I have nothing strange to offer.”

 

There was a brief silence in the chat. Alastor sighed slowly and decided to clear the ground before the conversation slid into an uncomfortable ravine.

 

“To be completely honest,” he said, voice measured, “I didn’t intend to do anything strange or sexual. At least not today. I just… wanted to talk to someone. I thought it would be simpler than doing extravagances. And if it didn’t work…” he shrugged, “it doesn’t really matter whether it does or not. I probably won’t do this again.” He said it calmly, expecting the 1 in the viewer count to drop back to 0, but it didn’t. The reply didn’t come immediately, either.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Hm.

 

The period made him nervous, before the text bubble appeared again.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Well

Between watching an ass on camera and improvised therapy either one works for me right now

 

Alastor blinked. “That’s surprisingly honest.”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

I’m honest

 

“I noticed,” he replied, with a small smile hidden beneath the mask. “Then I suppose the right question for you is… what would you like to talk about?”

 

The chat typed and erased. Typed again and erased once more, for a few seconds.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Before that… can you move a little closer to the camera? And lie on your stomach

pls

 

Alastor frowned. “May I ask why?”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Professional curiosity

The camera is really bad

i can't see shit

if you move away it pixelates

 

“That doesn’t explain why I should be lying face-down—” he muttered. But it didn’t sound dangerous. And frankly, he was already there. What did it matter? He adjusted himself, moved a little closer to the camera, and lay face-down, propping himself up on his forearms while the framing became a direct shot of his covered face and chest. The thin shirt slid slightly lower, and the abundant fluff of his chest flattened against the mattress along with the soft weight of his torso and breasts. His tail lay extended behind him, relaxed, and his ears moved in small, attentive gestures. He didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. The man seemed to type something, then quickly erase it, several times.

 

“Is this okay?” he asked. “Is this enough?”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Perfect

 

Alastor tilted his head. “I still don’t understand.”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

It’s better this way

Since we’re alone we can talk freely about whatever, right?

I don’t know who tf u are

You don’t know who tf I am

I suppose there will be confidentiality

 

The omega narrowed his eyes with that curious caution of someone stepping into unknown territory, unsure whether it was dangerous or simply strange. He didn’t think it was dangerous in reality, but he wasn’t going to trust it entirely either. Was he a killer? A drug trafficker? Why was he talking about confidentiality?

 

“Yes. Uh… we can,” he replied calmly. “Then let’s talk.” He announced in an even tone, chin resting on his hand and elbows sunk into the mattress. His tail traced a lazy sway behind him. “Tell me. From the way you write, I can deduce that something is bothering you. You said something about therapy, didn’t you?”

 

The chat blinked again.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

What can I say?

Not long ago I divorced an alpha

It wasn’t very long

He made a scene in front of my lawyer while we were signing the papers

i wanna kms

 

Alastor tilted his head slightly, with genuine interest, eyes opening a bit wider. “Really?” he murmured. “Then may I assume you’re omega as well?”

 

The response was almost immediate.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

No

 

Alastor’s ears twitched. “An alpha?”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

I’m an enigma

 

Alastor’s eyes widened fully behind the mask. It wasn’t exaggerated, just honest. His pupils dilated slightly and his tail moved with an interest he didn’t try to hide, tracing a more pronounced arc against his back. He settled his chin more firmly into his hand, as if the conversation had suddenly gained more weight. There were few enigmas, and he had never met one. But they said enigmas were usually too much for any caste, one of the most dominant and largest.

 

“Wow…” he said, after a second. “That’s not something you hear every day. Is it real or are you just trying to impress, big guy?”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Haha

well

I don’t know

Are you impressed?

 

“I’m intrigued,” Alastor corrected. “It takes more than an enigma to impress me. I’ve just never met one.” He paused briefly. “And how do you feel about what you said? You know, about your divorce.”

 

The chat took longer this time, but when the response came, it wasn’t a joke or a throwaway comment.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Empty

 

Alastor didn’t say anything right away. His ears relaxed a little, his expression turned patient, and his tail slowed its movement.

 

“Hm. That…” he started, “doesn’t sound particularly pleasant.”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

yeah, right

it isn’t

And my ex doesn’t help

He’s annoying

Like fucking hell

 

“That’s usually an inherent trait of exes,” Alastor commented gently. “Is he harassing you?”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Bingo

Like a fucking bitch you can’t quit

Messages. Calls… sketchy websites like this one

I don’t think I’m the best person yk

But there are really worse people than me

 

“Hm.” Alastor clicked his tongue. “Classic. Even more so if he’s an alpha, they tend to be persistent.”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

That’s a bit prejudiced

But u r omega, so I guess you have the right

Actually, he sent me this page

Thought it would tempt me into coming back if I did something publicly stupid

jealous or some shit like that

 

Alastor growled under his breath, a brief sound, almost imperceptible but loaded with disapproval.

 

“What a romantic type,” he said, with delicate sarcasm. “Nothing says ‘reconciliation’ better than public blackmail, huh?”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

I know right?

So I decided to snoop around other streams on my own

Far from him and his intentions, because I know that’s what he wants

I guess that’ll piss him off

hope so

 

Alastor let out a small, amused huff.

 

“And you ended up here with me, I suppose. Are you alright telling me all this?”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Neither of us knows anything about the other

I guess it has its charm being able to talk about it with someone who won’t bring up my private life

Fate has a questionable sense of humor

 

“I won’t deny that,” he replied, gently moving his feet. “But at least it’s assertive. Don’t you think? It leads you to people who can understand you.”

 

There was a silence that lasted a couple of seconds before the chat bubble appeared again.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Do you understand that emptiness I’m talking about?

 

Alastor lowered his gaze for a second, as if he were truly thinking about what he wanted to say, then raised it back to the camera. His tail moved with a bit of nervousness as he scratched his arm.

 

“Not in the same way you do,” he admitted. “But I understand what it’s like to lose something that took up too much space in your life. And to discover that, without it, everything echoes. Regardless of whether it was good or bad for you, I suppose sometimes you get distracted and now you just… see. You see that there’s nothing to be done.”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Exactly!

That was unexpectedly poetic

You have a nice voice

 

Alastor growled again, this time a little more pronounced.

 

“Of course I do. My work has always had to do with my voice. If I lost it, that would really be a problem.”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

I didn’t know deer could make those sounds

 

“What sound? The growling? All animals do it in some way,” he asked, tilting his head. “I suppose you… are… a shark? I mean, because of your… uh, name.”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

I am

Can you growl me again?

 

Alastor shook his head, amused despite himself. “Pff. No, of course not. Do you really not want to go watch some other stream?”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Nah

It’s really comfortable here

I guess

Even though the name is certainly misleading

 

“What’s wrong with the name?” Though he already knew the answer.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

It might confuse some people, it could be considered false advertising…

 

“Are you making fun of me?” Alastor growled, his tail giving a small thump against his back.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Pff

Maybe a little hahaha

 

“I suspected as much. I’m glad I managed to lift your spirits a bit.”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Yeah

usually people come here to lift something else

But lifting the mood is a good start

We’re doing well

good job

 

Alastor laughed softly; it had been a long time since he’d talked like this with someone outside his circle. Much less with someone of the male gender. He traced lines on the sheet with his claw as he continued chatting with the enigma behind the username. The movement was slow and meditative. He wasn’t posing, but he truly looked as if he were. He was simply existing there, with the natural softness of his character that he didn’t know how to turn off.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Can I ask you something more personal?

 

Alastor’s ears shifted beneath the cap, suddenly a bit nervous, indecisive, not really knowing why. That kind of question made him very uneasy.

 

“You can,” he replied. “Though depending on the magnitude of the question, I don’t promise to answer.”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Why did you decide to do this?

 

The omega stayed silent for a few seconds. His tail stopped moving, lying extended behind him. It was clear he was measuring his words carefully. Thinking through what to say.

 

“Ha… I suppose…” he began slowly, “that it would be unfair not to share something about myself after what you shared with me.” He lifted his gaze to the camera, looking straight and calmly. “I’m here because I need money. I’m not proud of this outlet, if I’m being honest. But I’m really not doing it out of ambition or anything like that. More because of circumstances that are a bit more, hm, complicated.” He paused briefly. “I have a baby.”

 

The chat went still for a minute. No messages appeared right away, and Alastor thought he’d scared the man off by mentioning his child, but the “1” next to the viewer icon was still there. Finally, the chat bubble reappeared.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

You have a baby

For real?

Are you marked?

 

“Yes and no,” Alastor replied bluntly, his voice a bit lower. “I lost the bond with my alpha a long time ago, my wound is healing.” He omitted the part about him having died and about the mark not actually progressing with healing, because saying that would only ruin the mood. “As for the baby. He’s one of the ones I managed to have. The others didn’t… make it. This one is actually the third.”

 

He didn’t embellish the sentence or the reality, even though he didn’t want to talk about it. He simply left it there, in the air, waiting to see what the man had to say.

 

The text bubble flickered again. Then disappeared. It did that a couple more times, as if he didn’t know what to say.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Jesus fuck, man…

I thought I had it rough but, hmm

…I’m really sorry

I shouldn’t have asked

 

Alastor slowly shook his head, even though the other couldn’t quite see it. “Don’t worry,” he said in a surprisingly calm voice. “I’m… getting through it. At my own pace, but I really am.”

 

His fingers kept moving over the sheet as an automatic, almost self-soothing gesture. The fluff on his chest rose and fell with his nervous breathing and his ears had relaxed again at the sides of his face.

 

There was another silence, shorter this time. Alastor swallowed. He didn’t know exactly why the doubt had formed in his mind. Maybe it was exhaustion or perhaps curiosity. It could have been a foolish need to know where he stood and whether he was still… being… someone to the world.

 

“Do you think that is…” he said, measuring each word and swallowing before continuing, “…unattractive to you?”

 

The chat bubble started moving quickly. It stopped. Then moved again.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Do you want me to be gentle or to tell the truth?

 

Alastor raised an eyebrow. “The truth,” he replied. “Always.”

 

Only a few seconds passed.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

I’m really into milfs

u r so fucking hot

 

Alastor choked on his own saliva. He coughed, bringing a hand to his chest, almost twisting on the bed. Milf? What was that? It didn’t sound like something… puritanical.

 

“Into what…?” he stammered. “I don’t—” Mimzy’s face flashed suddenly through his mind. Degenerates, she’d said, with a shameless laugh. He growled low and irritated. “That’s… a bit inappropriate,” he muttered, still catching his breath. Before he could continue, another message appeared.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

You said you wanted the truth!

I didn’t see you entirely but you really look good on all fours

You’ve got nice hips for carrying kids tho ngl

But getting back to the topic…

And since we’re talking about kids

 

The bubble didn’t stop this time. Alastor frowned at the vulgarity.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

I always wanted to have children

With the alpha I was with, I never could have

I once suggested adopting

But it ended in an argument

He hated them

 

Alastor went still and his breathing slowed; he thought of Theo and his chubby little face. How could anyone hate them? His ears tensed slightly, attentive.

 

“Oh…” he said quietly. That changed things a little. “I understand, I’m sorry about that,” he added more calmly. “I suppose he or she really wasn’t for you.”

 

The omega shifted into a more comfortable position without realizing it, stretching out on the mattress as his bones cracked, settling his torso better. The gesture was slow and fluid, and the fabric of his shirt tightened slightly before falling again. He wasn’t trying to be anything, but through the screen, however, he gave an incredibly provocative image. The chat bubble was about to say something, but Alastor kept talking.

 

“Children aren’t for everyone. There are people who really don’t like them. But when they are for someone, it really shows,” he murmured distractedly. “So…” he said, as if asking something trivial to fill a gap, “do you live alone?”

 

The message appeared almost immediately.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Interested? ;)

 

“Pff. Not in the way you think, don’t get the wrong idea.”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Hm. Yeah

Well

I live with my shark

 

Alastor let out a soft, nasal laugh, the kind that slips out before you can stop it. “Ah,” he replied. “Of course. Naturally. I suppose that question is very private, sorry, dear.” He lifted his gaze to the camera, amused. “Let me guess,” he added, playing along with the joke. “It’s the child you allow yourself to have and that’s why your name or something like that.”

 

Three seconds passed.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

…

It’s not a joke 

I really live with my shark

 

Alastor’s smile froze halfway. And he blinked a little too fast, laughing nervously. “…Excuse me?”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

It’s a real shark, a big one

He lives with me in a large tank

 

Below the message, as if the universe wanted to underline it, another appeared.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

You’re not wrong, he’s my son

Shok.wav

He’s my precious baby

 

Alastor’s eyes went wide behind the mask. His ears stood up so much they almost pushed the cap upward, so he adjusted it carefully with his claw, and his tail went completely still, rigid, as if someone had pressed a pause button.

 

“Is this… for real?” Alastor closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. Then opened them again.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

It is

 

“I’m not going to ask how” he continued with suspiciously forced calm, “or why. But I am going to tell you something with absolute sincerity.” He leaned a little closer to the camera, the slow, natural movement making the neckline of his shirt give a little more without him noticing. “You have terrible taste in names.”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

hahaha

Alright, alright

I knew it

It’s a good name to me

I’m good at naming things

All that’s missing is people who understand them

 

“Very well, Shark Daddy Boss 1,” Alastor enumerated with a small hand gesture. “Shok.wav is a rather strange name for a shark. Why shok.wav? Is he half eel or something?”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

HEY

Don’t disrespect my son

 

Alastor snorted, this time with a more genuine laugh and clicked his tongue. “Alright, sorry, sorry. I take it back. Clearly there’s a theme there.”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

I just like real sharks too, they’re calmer than people

Though it’s… nice

To talk to someone decent who doesn’t look at me differently over stupid things

After so long

 

Alastor shrugged, a small shy gesture. “I suppose that’s an advantage of being a complete stranger,” he said. “I have no expectations to meet, and you don’t have to worry about that either.” He clicked his tongue. “Besides,” he added lightly, “that gives us a bit more closeness, I suppose you can really talk about anything, huh.”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

I guess

Not everyone reacts this well

 

“Oh, believe me, I’m not a big fan of marine fauna, predators or sharp teeth,” Alastor replied. “I think I’m reacting much better than I should.” He growled softly, more exaggerated than annoyed, and his tail started moving again, slow and relaxed. “But… yes. It’s entertaining. A bit unexpected, but surprisingly comfortable.”

 

The silence between messages grew a bit longer, but not uncomfortable. The man was taking his time to type. Alastor settled more comfortably, putting his weight on one forearm, his cheek sinking slightly into the palm of his hand. His ears moved almost imperceptibly, reacting to each chat ping.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Have you ever thought about what all this is for?

Talking a bit more in depth

I’m shit at this, sorry

I mean

working, loving, losing things, starting over

It might sound terribly cheesy

But that, I think

The meaning of life

Yknow?

 

Alastor blinked slowly. “Wow. We jumped to the meaning of life pretty fast.” Even so, he didn’t dodge the question. “I suppose…” he thought aloud, “it’s for finding something worth taking care of. Even if it’s small. If it hurts sometimes, having a purpose, no matter how small it seems, is one of the many reasons to keep living.” He paused briefly. “Reading, watching movies, listening to music, doing things… that we like. You can make that into a reason to find meaning, too. You can… think about the number of things you still have left to read, to watch and to listen to… it’s… at least one of the things I dream of doing.”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

That’s beautiful

…That sounds very omega of you.

 

Alastor frowned behind the face covering. “That sounds very prejudiced on your part now.” But there was no real anger in his voice. Rather… there was a bit of warmth. A faint heat creeping up his cheeks and the base of his ears.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Sorry babe

I’m just not used to talking to omegas, there really aren’t many around me

My mother was a female alpha

I was always curious about omega things

I’m not trying to sound disrespectful or smth

But I’m curious

They said they were very jealous or that they went feral sometimes

Oh, also

Is the natural lubricant thing true or is it a myth?

Do they lubricate a lot?

 

Alastor went still. His tail gave a soft lash against his back and then stiffened with a bit of curiosity.

 

“…That’s a very personal question,” he said, in a low voice. There was a pause as he thought about whether he should answer that. He should have ended the chat. He should have told him to go to hell with his uncomfortable questions. But he didn’t. “Jealousy isn’t a caste issue,” he continued, almost solemnly. “And the ferocity or savagery is a matter of attachment. And fear of losing. An omega usually enters that state to protect what is theirs.”

 

He cleared his throat. He didn’t really like talking about that.

 

He had gone feral only twice in his life. He hadn’t been conscious. But he had seen cases of omegas who were, omegas who entered that state for many hours, even days. Omegas too broken to even be able to regain trust.

 

They were omegas who sharpened their claws and tore into the necks and bellies of alphas with rage in order to protect and keep what was theirs. Almost always their pups. Alastor didn’t want it to ever happen to him again. It wasn’t a very pleasant sensation.

 

“And the other thing…” he clicked his tongue, blushing. “It’s basic biology, Mr. Shark. The body adapts to protect itself and to make certain things easier. There’s nothing scandalous about it. Some, um, do it in a bit more quantity than others. And each one’s scent usually concentrates there.” As he spoke, his tail kept moving, slow and treacherous. A sway that didn’t match his serious tone. Giving away his nerves.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Your tail moves when you get nervous

 

Alastor fell silent. Damn it.

 

“…It doesn’t.”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Yes it does

 

“It does not!” But contrary to his tone, the tail moved again and bristled, fluffed up. Alastor let out a small growl, almost a murmur, and looked away, it was barely a sound meant to fill the space. “It’s been a long time since anyone’s talked to me like this, you’ve got guts,” he admitted, almost unintentionally. “It feels strange.”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Mh?

Like how?

 

Alastor hesitated. “Like I… might still be interesting,” he answered at last. “Not just a baby-making machine, like most people see omegas.”

 

The message took a little longer to arrive, being typed and erased again and again. Once more.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

What idiot would say something like that?

…

You are interesting

I mean

Not just anyone goes onto a porn site just to look for conversation

That’s a bit strange

But it’s interesting

 

The heat in his cheeks intensified and he grabbed his shy ears with both hands, tugging them a little to hide his face, even if it was already covered. Letting out a small bleat under his breath, a sound he’d make only for Theo.

 

“That’s flattering. I think. Though I don’t know to what extent, thank you.”

 

Time slipped away without either of them noticing. The early morning had crept forward quietly, leaving the room in a dense silence except for their conversation, barely broken by the low hum of the computer and the occasional isolated ping. Outside, the city seemed to have surrendered to sleep. Inside, the cold light of the screen kept drawing soft shadows over Alastor’s body, along with the dim ceiling light.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

It was lovely chatting with you, Mr. RadioStag

I think I should go now

 

Alastor blinked, as if only then realizing the time. His ears moved slowly, tired.

 

“Oh, yes… we talked a lot,” he murmured. “It’s quite late.”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

I wanted to tell you something before I go

…

Thank you

I really appreciated the conversation

It was different

 

Alastor tilted his head slightly, still attentive to the bubble that was typing.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

I’m not going to lie

I’m going to bed with the damn sad dick still in my hand

Hm

But also with a calmer head

Literally

A therapy session, I guess

Never hurts

 

Alastor let out a small nasal laugh, gently shaking his head. “I’m glad I could be useful in some way.”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Thanks for the company

Really

 

The bubble flickered one last time.

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

Are you going to go live again some other day?

 

The question hung in the air. Alastor hesitated. His tail went still for once and he lowered his gaze to the bed, to everything he’d done that night without being entirely sure why. It hadn’t been so bad. There had been only one viewer, but it had been genuinely interesting to talk to him.

 

“I’ll… think about it,” he answered honestly. “I don’t promise anything, this… isn’t really my thing.”

 

SharkDaddyBoss1:

That’s fine

You said it yourself

Do what you like

I’m intrigued to see what you’ll do next

…

Good night

It was a pleasure meeting you

 

Before Alastor could respond, the chat went empty and silence suddenly returned to his room. In a way, it made him feel a little sad. But then, the page vibrated. A fairly large notification, impossible to ignore, appeared on the screen.

 

“SharkDaddyBoss1 has just donated $35,000.”

 

Alastor’s eyes went wide.

 

“What…?” he managed to say, sitting up too quickly and almost falling off the bed. “Wait, I didn’t…!” But it was already too late.

 

Another notification chimed.

 

“SharkDaddyBoss1 is now following you.” And another one, almost cruel in how calmly it appeared.

 

“SharkDaddyBoss1 has paid $1,000 and subscribed to your channel for three months.”

 

Alastor went completely still. His mind blank and his eyes wide open. His heart pounding in his temples and throat. His ears upright and tense, as if they’d just heard a gunshot, made the cap fall onto the bed.

 

“No… no, no,” he murmured. “This has to be a mistake. Why…?”

 

Without thinking too much, he reached out and turned off the stream. The camera screen and the live broadcast on his computer went dark, leaving him alone with his rapid breathing and the weight of what had just happened. He removed the face mask and stared in disbelief at the ended stream screen and a small achievement that read “Congratulations on your first come,” though the message was clearly a double entendre, it referred to his first stream.

 

But before he could even process what had just happened, he heard it. A small broken cry, coming from the other room.

 

“Theo.” The panic evaporated instantly, replaced by something far more urgent that his body reacted to by jumping out of bed. Alastor shook the phone and the mask off his legs as he hurriedly stood up, almost tripping over his own hooves, and crossed the doorway to go to his pup’s room. “I’m here, my love… I’m here.”

 

He entered the baby’s room and carefully picked him up when he saw him crying inconsolably, bringing him against his chest. It looked like he’d just woken up. Theo clung to him immediately, his little face scrunched in discomfort, seeking warmth and comfort. It was then, as he adjusted him, that Alastor noticed it. The tension in them. The heaviness of both breasts. The warm dampness that had begun to soak into the thick fluff covering his bust. Theo immediately searched for his place to latch on.

 

He was hungry.

 

Alastor lowered his gaze, surprised. The fabric of his shirt was slightly darkened in some spots, and as he moved, still with Theo feeding, he felt the inevitable dripping from the other side, the automatic response of his body to the call of his pup…

 

Or in response to a potential partner his omega might recognize. His stomach tightened at the thought of the chat bubbles. He also understood, suddenly, why the enigma had insisted that he move closer to the camera and lie face down. Because he had asked him to lie like that…

 

A slow blush crept up his neck as he covered his mouth. “Freaking pervert,” he whispered, more to himself than to the other man. He pressed the baby closer to him even more carefully, rocking him gently to protect him in his hold. “It’s alright,” he murmured, in a low, maternal voice. “Mommy’s here.”

 

As Theo calmed down, Alastor closed his eyes for a moment, resting his forehead against the warm little head of the fawn as he fed.

 

His eyes opened as he stared at a fixed point, still stunned by the sheer amount of money the man had donated. But what could he expect from someone who literally lived with a shark?

 

He clicked his tongue, feeling a bit guilty for having received so much just for talking a little. It didn’t feel fair. He sighed.

 

But still… it hadn’t… been… that bad.