Page 65 of Real

That’s ridiculous. I’m sure Dorian had a will, and he wouldn’t leave a cent to me.

Candlewick saunters over to the stove and asks Manny if any of those pancakes are for him. Manny’s face turns a bright pink.

“There are plenty of bedrooms in this place if the two of you want to fuck instead of acting like silly teenagers,” Anne says.

The guards try not to smile, but they’re unsuccessful.

“You know my religion doesn’t condone sex outside our sacred mating rituals,” Manny stammers.

Anne waves him off. “Religions are always hating on sex. In my experience, people have it anyway.”

Manny sets the spatula on the counter. “I know you don’t respect my religion. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

“You mean the religion that insists you’re going to hell, even though you’re a good man? You’re right. I don’t,” Anne says.

Manny storms out of the kitchen.

“I’m not going to force you—” Candlewick calls out, but the front door opens and slams shut.

“Anne, you have to understand, we were raised—” Timothy starts.

“I don’t have to understand shit. Let Manny hate me. That’s fine. It’s a helluva lot better than giving him permission to hate himself.” Anne stands and puts her dishes in the sink. “I think I’ve reached my quota of stupid alpha males today. It’s been nice meeting all of you, but I need to get back to work.” She follows Manny out the door.

“We should go too,” one of the security guards says. He and his partner don’t even put away their dishes before they leave.

That leaves just Timothy, Candlewick, and me.

Candlewick knocks back the last of his coffee. “I should probably go.”

“You don’t have to.”

He walks over to the sink and starts putting dishes in the dishwasher. Candlewick can’t cook, but he can clean. He used to help me with my chores in the mornings.

“You could stay here. Your stuff is still in Dorian’s room,” I offer. Then I glance down at his shorts. There’s a wet spot at the center.

He turns around. “Thanks, Bud, but I have something I need to take care of.”

“You’re going into heat,” Timothy says, his nostrils flaring. “It’s still winter. Fox and wolf shifters both have heats in the spring.”

He flashes Timothy a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Turns out, Manny’s my fated mate. I guess that jump-started my heat early.”

My stomach drops. Did Candlewick’s fated mate just leave him? That can’t be right. Candlewick is perfect. Manny couldn’t possibly reject him.

“I’ll go get him,” Timothy offers, but Candlewick grabs his arm.

“Don’t. He knows. I guess he’s muzzled, so we can’t bond, and without a bond… well, his God won’t let him be with me.” Candlewick drags a hand through his hair. “It’s fine. It wouldn’t have worked out anyway. My dads were fated too, and that didn’t help them. Sometimes fate isn’t enough.”

I feel sick as I realize Candlewick will have to spend his heat alone. He doesn’t deserve that. No omega does.

“Go to Dorian’s room. I can find a guy to help you out.” If alphas can pay for sex, omegas can too, right? There has to be someone who helps omegas through their heats for money.

Candlewick grabs my elbow. “Okay. There’s this organization my friend works for. They have guys who won’t be able to knock me up. If I get pregnant, I can’t get an abortion legally.”

“Do you have a number? Can I use your phone?” I ask Timothy.

He pulls it out. “I can make a call. What’s the organization called? Do they provide last-minute services?”

Candlewick just shakes his head. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll have to tough it out by myself.”

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