SKYE.5

The next evening, something interesting happened.

After I took a shower, I walked into our bedroom, and to my surprise, I noticed two rolled-up blankets and six small pillows on the bed. Soren must have brought them in from the hallway closet. In addition to the mint green set, there was now a turquoise blanket, two turquoise pillows, and two lime-green ones.

I stood there for a moment, staring in disbelief because I knew exactly what this looked like.

Should I bring it up? While asking an omega about nesting was considered impolite, asking a beta about it seemed downright crazy. But then again, the fact that he was a beta might leave some room for that conversation.

When Soren walked into the room, I was still standing by the bed.

"Interesting setup," I commented, trying to sound casual.

He raised his eyebrows, genuinely surprised. "What? What are you talking about?"

"The blankets and pillows…"

Soren's face twitched, and he almost jumped, like I'd accused him of something nefarious. "I just wanted to make it more comfortable for us! I don't see the problem—two blankets and six pillows aren't exactly overkill," he said defensively, pouting.

I stared at him for a second. Was he really this clueless?

"It looks like a nest, Soren."

There was a pause. Soren glanced at the bed. "I don't know… it's just some blankets and pillows…"

"Come on. I know what omega nests look like—I was in a relationship with omegas for years."

Soren started to get annoyed. "What do you want me to say? I didn't do it on purpose; I just wanted us to be comfortable. There's nothing more to it, so stop reading into it!"

I took a step closer to him. "Soren, I don't mind if you're building a nest. Actually, it makes me happy. But it could be another sign of what Dr. Jim mentioned…"

Seeing his grimace, I tenderly put my hands on his shoulders, but he still looked a bit grumpy.

"I don't know if I'd call it that. I didn't do it with any intention—"

"Because you did it instinctively, which means something in your nature is waking up."

He was silent for a moment, then slowly lifted his head and peered into my eyes. "So, you're saying this is just the beginning? You've probably seen much nicer ones. What I did is pathetic."

"I smiled and gently lifted his chin. "Soren, you know it's a rule that alphas don't comment on how an omega's nest looks. I include betas who are transitioning into omegas in this too! We understand how intimate that process is, I would never say anything critical.""

"But you thought about it."

Classic Soren, jumping right to the pessimistic scenarios! I sighed in frustration. "What I thought was all positive. Honestly, I'm really happy because the stronger your omega side wakes up, the better the chances for this pregnancy. You understand that, right?" I slowly moved my lips to his temple and kissed him gently. "My sweet omega Soren…" I murmured in a low, teasing tone.

"Stop it," he murmured back, but he let me continue placing soft kisses on his temple and cheek. Then I slowly trailed them down to his neck, where I licked his gland with the pale, curved mark left by my teeth.

"You are mine, Soren. Mine forever," I whispered directly into his ear.

I could practically feel the little shiver run through him as his hands slid up to wrap around my back.

"I wish that were true, Skye. Now, take me to bed."

***

The next few weeks passed in much the same way.

Soren gradually shifted from the withdrawal he'd shown at first to opening up more and more. There were certain behaviors that I remembered from our college days, which started resurfacing. His previous self-absorption and focus solely on his own needs began to fade. Occasionally, he would make me tea, sometimes even clean up a bit, suggest small outings like walks, or invite me to join him at the pool. It was in the same building where we lived, so we could go often. Soren loved swimming; as he explained, he was on the swim team as a child. While he used to go there alone, he started spontaneously asking if I'd like to join him.

Changes started appearing in other areas too. He began touching me more casually during the day, like running his fingers through my hair or gently massaging my shoulders. After sex, when we lay cuddled up, his hands would trace small circles on my chest, and sometimes he'd even touch my cheek shyly, gently caressing it.

It was a slow process, like unraveling a thread from a ball of yarn. Gradually, something inside him was unlocking, warming up to our relationship. With each passing week, I noticed these small but significant improvements.

Interestingly, nesting also became a part of his daily routine. Soren began making nests more frequently, and they became better, bigger, more elaborate, and even more colorful. He started bringing in new elements from the closet.

Once, I brought him as a gift a few decorative silver cords to help form the nests. He blushed a little, and the next day, I noticed he had used two of the cords to reinforce the structure of a new nest.

I liked to watch him while he was busy building it, with a cute little frown on his forehead.

These were small things, but they brought me great joy because I knew Soren was, in a way, thawing out. I wouldn't say he completely trusted me yet; there was still a certain cautiousness, a bit of shyness when it came to openly expressing his feelings. But I could definitely see a lot of progress.

He still spent time alone on the balcony, staring at the city skyline in quiet contemplation, but it didn't last as long as it used to. And, of course, he'd quit smoking, which to me was another sign that he believed… that this pregnancy could have a positive outcome.

***

Everything changed one day when I got a call from my older brother, Bay. I had the weakest connection with him of all my brothers, except for Snow. Although he wasn't exactly a quiet loner, he always seemed a little disconnected from our family, focused on his career as a musician and YouTuber.

His call really surprised me, but I answered, curious about what he had to say.

"Hey, Skye, I'm calling about something a bit unusual. Do you remember…" He cleared his throat. "Alex, the guy I was dating in high school?"

That conversation certainly had an unexpected start.

"Of course, he used to come over sometimes. We played chess, and he always beat me—never went easy on a ten-year-old!"

Bay chuckled. "Well, Alex played chess at the state level. He was great; why would he go easy on you? You'd never have learned anything that way."

"And I never did. I still hate playing chess."

Bay coughed quietly. "Anyway, I've kept in touch with him over the years… we chat sometimes on Messenger. Alex always had numerous health issues—allergies, asthma, atopic dermatitis, and so on…"

"Yeah, yeah. I remember. He always carried an inhaler."

"He's in an experimental desensitization program run by Malden Pharmaceuticals that gives him a good chance of a full recovery. The initial results are promising, but the therapy is really tough. He's passed out a few times after leaving the therapy chamber and gets dizzy often. I've driven him a few times, but I have a concert on Friday afternoon and can't make it. I know you live close to the Malden branch, where he gets his therapy. Could you take him there and bring him back? I'd really appreciate it. I asked Winter, but he already has a meeting scheduled for the exact time, and it could run late since there are sometimes a few people in line for the therapy chamber. The appointment times are scheduled in two-hour blocks, and you have to try to get in."

Still somewhat puzzled by the unexpected call, I answered, "Sure, I can take him. It'll be nice to see him after all these years, although… I still won't forgive him for constantly cornering my king in chess!"

Bay chuckled, sounding relieved. "Thanks, bro, I owe you one!"

When he told me the time, I realized it would mean leaving work a little early and possibly getting home about two hours later than usual.

Since the ByteBites project was entering its crucial phase, and we were just days away from presenting it to the client, I headed over to Winter. I'd been working eight hours a day on it lately, doing Nathaniel's tasks only in the evenings, so I wanted to clear it with my director.

I saw Winter standing in the hallway, talking to an employee. As I approached, they were just wrapping up their conversation, so I quickly mentioned I needed to leave a bit early today. I gave him a brief summary of my conversation with Bay, and Winter agreed without any issue. I noticed that during our talk, Winter glanced over my shoulder at something behind me but didn't say anything.

"Sure, no problem, you can leave early today if Soren agrees. Tuesday is a big day for your team, so make sure you get everything done."

"I already asked him, but I wanted to clear it with you, too, because it's the hot phase now, and every hour counts."

"Yes, that's true. But since you have it covered, you can go."

I nodded and turned to go, and that's when I saw…

Liam was standing behind me.

It startled me slightly, as I hadn't seen him up close in almost six weeks, only from a distance. He looked incredibly pale and alarmingly thin. His eyes were still, like a shark's, and he stared at me with cold hatred. He was clearly waiting to talk to Winter, so I moved past him without a word, because what could I say? I didn't feel any triumph over him, just sadness that it had all ended like that—and Liam truly looked awful.

That afternoon, I drove to pick up Alex. He was waiting for me in the driveway of his small suburban home. He hadn't changed much since I last saw him at Bay's high school graduation. He was twenty-seven now, a very petite and pale omega who looked sickly and frail, but was still undeniably attractive. He and Bay had dated all through high school, head over heels in love. But when their glands matured toward the end of senior year, it turned out they were… incompatible. They agreed to break up amicably. Bay was devastated, but had to accept that they weren't meant to be. He was never quite the same after that, as if a part of his soul had died. Sometimes it seemed like he was just… a shell of himself, a mask. He smiled, but there was always a hint of something tragic in his eyes, a hidden pain and anger. He seemed extroverted, sometimes even the life of the party, playing concerts and participating in local events, but there was always an emptiness, as if a part of him was missing.

I greeted Alex and couldn't resist teasing him about beating ten-year-olds at chess, which he took in good humor, sincerely apologizing for his teenage ego. He looked so pale, like he was on the verge of fainting, that I offered him a sandwich. He declined, muttering that he had celiac disease and avoided bread—just one more thing on top of his many other health issues.

I glanced over at him from time to time. He was a very short omega with dark blond hair cut to shoulder-length, wearing glasses that hid his striking violet eyes. His features were delicate, which many would find very attractive, though I preferred sharper, more catlike features like Soren's. Still, I couldn't deny that Alex had a certain charm.

"So, you're still friends with Bay?" I asked, trying to fill the silence during the drive.

He blushed. "We ran into each other a few months ago when he played a concert at the school where I teach."

Alex was a math teacher, from what I remembered.

"And did the old feelings come back?" I asked jokingly, but was surprised by his reaction.

He blushed even deeper. "Well, Bay… Bay's always been amazing."

A moment of silence. It sounded so serious, definitely not the answer I expected. Most people joked about their high school flings, but not him.

It wasn't really my business, but I murmured, "It's a shame you're not even Low Mates. You two would have made a great couple."

Alex quickly turned toward the window, as if I'd hit him with that sentence. As he did, his collar shifted slightly, and I caught a glimpse of a faint bite mark on his gland.

"So… what about you? Are you seeing anyone now?" I asked, though I had a feeling he wasn't, considering I was the one taking him to therapy.

"No," he replied quietly.

Should I pry? Damn, well, I'd come all this way, I might as well be nosy…

"I'm asking because I noticed a bite mark on your gland."

Alex flinched and nervously covered his neck with his hand.

"That's… none of your business!"

The sharpness in his voice was so unusual for him. Alex was usually a soft-spoken omega, not one with a fiery temper.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to upset you, just curious how you've been doing lately."

To make my question seem more casual, I pulled down my own collar. "I'm marked too. By my boyfriend, a beta."

Alex's breathing grew rapid, his heart racing. He took out his inhaler but didn't use it.

Then, suddenly, he blurted out, "This is the mark Bay gave me in my junior year of high school."

There was a heavy silence.

I was a bit shocked because what he said was absolutely impossible for several reasons. First, no one, not even True Mates, could mark each other before their glands matured—the tissue was unreceptive. And the first half of high school definitely came years before that process. And another thing! Markings usually fade after about a year or two! Everyone had to renew them during the next heat! Well, except for people over sixty, only then would the mark stabilize.

"So… it's a tattoo?" I asked, trying to make sense of it.

"No."

Another silence. Finally, I muttered, "Strange."

"I know," he replied quietly. "It just stayed there."

I swallowed hard. "Maybe it's because of your unusual health problems. You're… different."

"I don't think so. Bay has one too. From me."

Okay, that exhausted my theories. What a strange situation.

We were pulling up to the Malden Pharmaceuticals branch building, so the conversation ended there. But I'll admit, Alex left me with a lot to think about. What on earth could have happened between him and Bay?

It was such a sad, almost tragic thing, that Bay and Alex weren't even Low Mates, meaning their genetic compatibility was below 10%. It made the chances of severe mutations in their children extremely high. Relationships like that were socially condemned and considered harmful to the ABO narrow gene pool.

When we walked in, we were surprised to see there was no line! The receptionist told us that Alex could go straight in for therapy.

The desensitization session lasted about 45 minutes. While waiting, I dwelled deep in my memories, remembering how Bay was before he separated from Alex. Cheerful and open. And how he changed afterward, becoming a strange shadow of his former self.

When Alex came out, he was pale and trembling. I helped him to the car, and on the way back, we didn't talk about the mysterious markings. Instead, he told me about the details of his therapy and the slow improvements he was noticing, like fewer asthma attacks and reduced skin flare-ups. He praised Malden Pharmaceuticals for their groundbreaking discoveries. Their CEO, omega Blue Lowen—who was, by the way, the younger brother of the owner of DevApp—was considered a genius scientist.

After dropping Alex off at his house, I said goodbye and offered to help in the future if he needed it, but he just mumbled that Bay usually takes him, and this was just an exception.

I drove back to my neighborhood, my head full of thoughts. I brooded over Bay and Alex's fate. It always puzzled me how they could be so in sync—they never argued and finished each other's sentences. I had met many incompatible omegas before. In fact, most of the population was like that; up to 70% of all people were genetically incompatible with each other. The rest were mostly Low and Half Mates, with a small percentage being High and True Mates.

On a daily basis, I did meet many ‘incs', and not only did their scent seem off to me—like they smelled sour or metallic—but personality-wise, we couldn't click either. They irritated me. I felt almost repelled by them; we had nothing in common.

Why was it different for Alex and Bay? I truly had no idea.

With all these thoughts swirling around, I entered our apartment building. But as soon as I unlocked the door and stepped inside, I felt something strange, something was different.

Slowly, I made my way through the hallway, hearing an unfamiliar voice. Suddenly, Soren emerged from our bedroom with a rather odd expression on his face. He looked uneasy.

"Oh, you're back quicker," he said, his tone uncharacteristically tense.

"Yeah, Alex didn't have to wait in line; the therapy chamber was ready to use."

Soren opened and closed his mouth, hesitation on his face.

Then, someone else stepped out of our bedroom. The person was… completely naked.

It was Liam.

Soren didn't look at him; he was still facing me, while Liam stood a couple of steps behind him.

"I hope you don't mind, I invited Liam over for a quick chat," Soren said, biting his lip. But I was only staring at Liam, at his body covered… in fresh hickeys.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

Slowly, I blinked and even rubbed my eyes.

"You know, I only ever told you one thing that could make me not want to be with you!" I choked out, my voice trembling.

Liam's cold eyes locked onto mine with a sense of triumph.

"What are you talking about?" Soren asked, confused.

"Cheating, Soren," I muttered.

His face went pale with shock. "What are you saying? We were just talking!"

"Really?" I growled in a pained voice.

That's when Soren turned around and looked at Liam for the first time—and… flinched.

"What the hell?" he blurted out.

It was like I'd been struck by lightning, my blood pressure spiking, my glands tingling. My vision turned red, and I knew I was losing myself.

It was imminent—in a few seconds, I would brutally kill Liam and end up in prison.

My head tilted back, and a blaringly loud roar came through my throat. I'd never made a sound so deafening. My neck glands bulged in two seconds, and my vision turned more and more crimson. I zeroed in on Liam's face and made a jump…

But Soren's body stopped me mid-air!

His whole weight wasn't enough—he bounced off my chest, and would have fallen if not for my reflex. I could never hurt him, not him, no matter if he cheated on me with a thousand men—my arms caught him as he was already falling to the floor. My growl—a continuous streak tearing from my vocal cords—echoed around us.

Liam jumped back, hitting the wall with his back, panic-stricken, making whimpering submissive sounds—instinctive sounds betas were wired to make in the face of a charging alpha in fighting mode. He fell to his knees, making himself as small as possible.

My body, primed for killing, tried to free itself from Soren's embrace, but his hands gripped me desperately, stopping me in my tracks. I was so fucking ready to continue the attack, merciless, conclusive—but he just wouldn't let me.

"No! No! Skye! I beg you!"

I could barely see him through the red filter clouding my vision. I could do only one thing to save myself from jail and spare Liam's life. The fighting mode was taking over more and more. My field of vision continued to narrow, and my neck glands pulsed painfully.

Running away was my only option.

I jumped, landing on all fours! And like this—like a wild wolf or something feral—I stormed out of the apartment, feeling like the biggest idiot (or cuck) in the world.

Only one conclusion was reverberating in my frenzied head now, completely unable to think logically: Soren clearly had more guilt toward Liam than I had suspected. Shaking with anger, I bolted down the stairs, avoiding the elevator, and ran to my car. Some people stared at me in shock as I passed them—I was sure my red eyes were almost glowing. An alpha in fighting mode was no joke.

I sped out of the parking lot within a minute. Soon my phone started ringing, but I silenced it. I didn't want to answer because, honestly, who answers the phone when their world has just collapsed?