Self-Serve

Amy stared at her ceiling. With the lights off, her eyes had adjusted and her room had taken on the haunting muteness of lowlight, granted definition by the faint illumination of harsh streetlight blaring through the cracks in her blackout curtains. It had been a long, fraught day and Amy wanted to get up early to start working cleaning up the photos of the donor dinner.

It was very late. Amy was very tired.

And yet she simply could not fall asleep.

The heat. Oh, god, the heat! It had been threatening her throughout the day and then in the living room with Sonic, it had fully bloomed. Shadow. Amy had stripped to her panties, but she couldn’t escape the cloying, sticky heat caught right below the surface of her skin. She should be shivering, they kept the apartment cold to lower their utility bills, but she simply wasn’t. Amy was baking. Stewing. Marinating.

And she didn’t know why. Shadow.

This wasn’t the heat of which she was accustom. Her mind wasn’t dissolving into wanton lust and her sheets weren’t getting soaked with slick. It was something else. And it almost felt…almost like…was it possible that…?

Amy.

Amy gasped. He hadn’t said her name, hadn’t known her name. But she could hear it nonetheless in his deep, warm baritone. The short syllables held so much meaning. I want you. I need you. Her insides clenched and a shudder shook her.

Amy.

She had hardly seen his face when they had been joined, yet she could picture it so vividly now, hovering above her, his smoldering crimson eyes glowing from the darkness. So close. She could almost reach up and touch his cheek, run her fingers along his sharp jawline.

“Shadow.” She whispered.

He’d touched her. Touched her in ways she couldn’t even comprehend. Ways that didn’t hurt or burn. His hand sliding over her belly, lightly pressing against her fur, traveling deeper, deeper, deeper towards…

Amy’s fingers twitched. One of her hands lifted to her hips, fingers lightly pushing at the small valley between her hip bone and the rise of her belly. Slowly, she messaged the flesh there with short stroking motions. This led her under the elastic of her underwear to the crease where her leg met her torso.

The fur was short, soft, well washed after the previous day’s excursions. Is this what he felt as his ungloved hand traveled deeper? Had he…liked that?

She explored further. To the peak of the center of her hip, below which lay her sacred valley. Fingers descended and she found the road to her deepness moist. The pain of her system cleaning itself had settled and the bleeding had reduced substantially. Spotting didn’t feel this wet. What did it mean?

Her destination wasn’t her dark, tortured place. Her middle finger followed in Shadow’s wake and graced the same spot, so small and guarded by a lip of flesh. Amy sucked in a breath as a jolting sensation raced through her and she pulled her hand away. A strange blend of pleasure and…not pain? A shuddering tickle. A prickling longing.

She knew about the clitoris only as an afterthought. A part of her anatomy labeled on the black and white slides in fourth grade health class. No attention was drawn to it. Never mentioned, never explained. What was it? Why was it there? None of that was important. Here, put this condom on this banana. Oh, you broke it. Don’t worry, dear, you don’t really need to know how to use one anyway.

Amy placed a hand against her chest, feeling her heart race. One little touch and she felt like she’d been running a race. The temperature suffocating her only intensified. As if summoned by her confusion, the tingling itch reemerged somewhere deep inside her. Scratch me, it simpered.

She swallowed. Running her hands down her stomach, she pulled up the elastic of her panties and froze as her nails lightly pressed in her skin. Amy. Her legs clenched together, and she rolled onto her side.

What if it was his claws dragging against her as he slowly slipped off her undergarments? When she arched her back, could his hands lift her up? When her head twisted to the side and rolled back, his chest pressed to hers and his lips graced her ear, her cheeks, her jaw, her neck. Down, down, down until-!

Amy curled, both savoring the thoughts and trying to push them away. Stop it! She had decided to forget about last night. It meant so little that it didn’t even happen. But then she’d learned his name. Shadow. He was real. All of it was real. NO! None of it was, not when she was sick with heat. She could never trust what she felt when she was like that. Not now. Not ever.

But then why, now that she was clear headed, she still felt…what did she feel?

Amy!

She could still smell him like he was in the room with-

The realization had Amy on her feet before her logical brain could register it. The waste basket. She’d tied the bag close but hadn’t taken it to the trash chute yet. Amy ripped it open and pulled out the crumpled remains of her black dress. She’d thrown it away, both as a lost cause for getting cleaned but also because it would serve as a reminder of such a terrible day.

Unfurling the garment, Amy saw dried slick flaking off onto the carpet and sweat stains marring the wrinkled dress. Gingerly she brought it to her nose. What was she doing? Amy wrinkled her nose at how thickly her own heat scent wafted off the mess of black cloth. But there-! There, below her own smell, was the most intoxicating aroma. Dark, deep, earthy. Safety, affection, fulfillment.

She couldn’t help breathing deeply. “Aah!” She whimpered. Amy could contain the sound as her womb tightened sharply, nearly bending her over. The itch in her became a throbbing need, a yearning, sucking, chasm that had to be filled.

Strong arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly, securely. She was led to her bed and thrown onto it. Amy rolled to her back and her limbs fanned out like a flower in bloom. The dress was still clutched in her fist. She brought it to her nose and inhaled the Alpha scent. Coffee, sandalwood, lavender. Amy’s breath came in quick gasps, bringing more and more of him into her, as if she wanted to etch the scent onto the inside of her skull. Hold me. Have me. Love me.

Shadow was above her, his piercing red eyes pining her in place. Not with fear. Not with malice. With excitement. Anticipation. Amy shuddered, her chest tightening.

Amy. Her name was a spell in his mouth, teleporting them far away to a world just for them.

A hand returned to her darkness. A light, gentle caress and her back arched. She clenched her teeth to keep treacherous sounds from escaping. His arms wound around her in a warm embrace. His face pressed into the crook of her neck. Goose pimples rose across her scalp. The finger moved in a lazy circle. Slow and small, but it was dragging her to the moon and back.

She gasped as his teeth pricked her neck. Ma pêche, he whispered into her flesh. So sweet. A second finger joined its compatriot, fully covering the small tender spot. A light bit of pressure and her hips bucked up. Her fingers twitched, longing to dig into dark fur.

“Sha-“ She moaned, trying desperately to bite back the sound. She knew exactly how thin the walls were.

Let me hear you, my dear. “Shadow…” She whispered. She felt the heat of his gaze on her cheeks. The hunger. The burning desire to claim. Her stomach clenched as his fur pressed into hers. The terror and excitement flowing her senses braided into a sensation she couldn’t describe. Tell me what you want. She wanted to melt, but the fingers kept her tense, chasing the feeling!

“I want...” Tell me. Anything, I will give it to you. The words caught in her throat, fighting a rush of saliva for freedom. She ordered-

“Faster.” As you wish. The circling intensified, now utilizing a full hand. Finger pads rubbed and tantalized, pushing sharply then backing away to ghost along her impossibly responsive flesh. Another hand explored further, sliding past the first, brushing the inner lips protecting her deepness. The valley was flooded, a stifling lake boiling in her depths.

Building pressure! Stoking flames, higher and hotter. Her insides clenched and Amy gritted her teeth. Tears pricked to edges of her eyes. She was being led somewhere, the hand guiding her, charging her flesh with an electric ecstasy. She demanded-

“Harder.” Of, course. His deep voice murmured in her ear, sending cascading sparks through her scalp. His hand pressed into her, fully cupping her, a firm yet gentle touch. Amy’s feet dug into the mattress, raising her hips and grinding into the motion. She was going to go insane. She couldn’t stand it. Still not enough! She commanded-

“M-more!” Everything. Shadow’s hands were all over her. Caressing her hips, gently squeezing her breasts, running through her quills, gently ghosting nails over her scalp. The flood of sensations left her breathless, gasping for air as she sought shore. His hand did not stop its relentless pace. The tension just built tighter and hotter, screaming for release. It was torture beyond her feeble comprehension.

Too much! Too much too much too much**!**

“A-hah” Shadow slammed his mouth to hers and swallowed her ecstatic cry. Roiling waves thundered through her. His arms encircled her, holding her tightly against his chest, their hearts beating fast as one. That’s right, Amy. Just like that, he murmured into her*.* Her hips jumped and twitched involuntarily. Her toes curled as her head was bashed to blissful bits.

Mind blown, Amy floated in an ethereal haze where everything just felt nice. Nothing was wrong right now or ever was wrong or ever will be again. But with all nice things, the euphoric haze started to fade, rushing away from her like a pleasant dream in the light of morning.

The spell broke. The cold of the room rushed in, gripping her tightly. Every drop of sweat was an avenue for the chill to enter her. Slowly, Amy uncovered her mouth. Her lips stung from how hard she’d slapped her hand over them to mute the disgusting shriek that had erupted from her.

Amy blinked. What the hell was she doing? Amy lay in a damp patch in the center of her twin bed, completely naked, except for socks. She looked to the side and saw the disgusting dress. Pulling herself up, she tossed the garment back into the waste bin. She took a few wipes and cleaned up her hands and loins. There was a little blood, but not enough to besmirch her sheets thank god.

She retrieved a thin dressing gown from where she’d draped it on her desk chair. She slumped down and placed her head into her hands. She lifted and looked at her hand. The fingers she’d stuck inside herself were wrinkled.

That had been an orgasm, right?

What. The. Fuck.

Why wasn’t that taught in health class?

Shadow had given her one so casually. Almost as a tease. Almost like it was normal. That didn’t make any sense. Sex could be…like this? For how long could she have been doing something that actually felt good?

Shadow had changed her life. Rescued her from almost certain calamity, taken care of her with no regard for himself, and reformatted her knowledge about herself not once, but twice in a single encounter. She sighed. Good job, Amy Rose. You’ve fallen for the first man to get you off. Desperate much?

It was a beautiful fantasy. Romantic. Stereotypical, if she was being cynical. Dashing, wealthy man sweeping into her life and taking her far away from all her problems. A loving, caring man to protect her from the violence of the world. Doting on her, wrapping her in affection. A fairy tale ending that also freed Sonic from his cursed promise, allowing him to go live his happily ever after as well. A two-fer.

Yes, a beautiful fantasy…but little else.

With her luck, Shadow was already married or gay (that would be par for the course with her luck). There was no way he’d be interested in her anyway. Shadow was probably surrounded by prettier and better educated women. Especially as kind as he was. Amy felt herself become envious of this imaginary other woman, as if Amy somehow had any claim on Shadow’s attention. Amy knew she was being stupid…but it still hurt.

This was a wakeup call, Amy decided. Her heats were getting stronger and more frequent. It was cruel to rely on Sonic…and some day soon he might not even be able to help her anymore. She needed to take responsibility for finding a longer-term solution. Amy reached for her phone and thumbed to the app store. She scrolled through the plethora of Alpha/Omega matching apps. She selected one at random and hit download.

Amy needed to forget all about Shadow. Besides, Shadow had probably already forgotten all about her.

---

Shadow stared at the door to the guest room with, frankly, an irritating level of trepidation. It was a fucking guest room in his own fucking house. Why was he even here? Boggled the mind. He had a million better things to do and plenty of problems needing his immediate attention.

And yet he was here.

Here.

Where’d he been with her.

With Amy.

What the flying fuck was wrong with him?

Shadow had barely kept it together the entire day. Every spare moment, the thought of her wafted through his mind. Nothing he did engaged him because he could have been, at that very moment, with her. Where is Amy? Why isn’t she here? Why aren’t you making her smile right now? Incessant, ridiculous thoughts.

It was pathetic. It was downright absurd and, what’s more, fucking creepy. Violating. Lusting after a woman he’d met once under surreal circumstances. A guest in his home. A woman who’d been vulnerable, been having a truly terrible time. Amy. Last night might have been the worst of her life. And he just couldn’t seem to make himself understand that fact, like some loathsome, wretched, sex-crazed fiend.

They’d not even had a proper encounter. None of it would have happened if her instincts and his hadn’t smashed them together like two tectonic plates, fountaining lava (and other things) all over the place. If anything, it had been a hostage situation, with both of them hogtied, at the mercy of powers beyond their control, their bodies puppeted by the mindless need to reproduce.

But that wasn’t right, was it? She’d been far further gone than he had been. Shadow had had all the power, all the control in the situation. As was his right. Fuck, no! He gritted his teeth, trying to force the thought away.

The encounter was nothing. Nothing important happened. It had meant nothing. It had to mean nothing!

And yet he was opening the door to the room they’d shared looking for…what the fuck was he looking for?

The room was immaculate. Nicole (despite supposedly being off today) had already worked her hyper-efficient personal assistant magic. The bed was made and pristine, the coverlet changed, the pillows plumped and delicately arranged. The air was thick with floral tones with a thick current of industrial cleaner and scent suppressants. The waste bins emptied. The bathroom scrubbed top to bottom.

Through his socks he felt a dampness to the carpet. Damn that woman, she had the carpet steam cleaned already. Whatever he was paying her wasn’t enough. But also, damn that woman!

Erased. Every trace of Amy, every trace of last night, every trace of what they had shared been forced to do eradicated from existence. Plausible deniability. Maybe they hadn’t even fucked. There wasn’t any evidence of it, so why not? Shadow knew what Nicoel was guarding against: Amy showing up later, demanding money or, worse, pregnant.

Shadow flopped onto the bed, pushing some of the pillows off. He covered his face with his hands. He hated how distantly he had to hold the world. There was always the risk, due to his wealth or status or whatever the fuck else, that any person who interacted with him was predatory. Duplicitous. Fake. That he wasn’t a person, just a mine from which to extract treasure.

But Shadow couldn’t believe that about Amy. His mind simply rejected the notion. There wasn’t anything logical he could pin the conviction on. Shadow just knew Amy wasn’t like that. Knew it in his goddamned bones.

Why’d Rouge have to let slip Amy’s name? The knowledge gave Shadow something to latch onto, something to cling to as a memento, as proof that those sounds, those hips, those sharp eyes, those tight, hot, sinuous, silky insides were a person. A real, living flesh and blood person out there in the world somewhere. A person who could be found. Could be held. Caressed tenderly.

Shadow pulled at the collar of his dress shirt began unbuttoning it. His breath was coming fast and rough, especially given he was just lying supine doing nothing at all. He lifted to pull off the white shirt, taking care not to press into the wound dressing on his forearm, and, with a sigh, acknowledged the thickness that had been swelling against his abdomen.

Well shit. Maybe…if he delt with that…maybe then he could let her the idea of her go. Yeah, that could work. He was just pent up. That’s what this was.

He undid his belt, pulled his pants and boxers down, and kicked them to the ground beside the bed. After pulling off his gloves, he fished out the little tablet that control the automation in the room from the nightstand and killed the lights. If he was going to do something so shameless, he sure as fuck didn’t want to see himself.

Shadow ran a languid nail along his aching bulge aching. He closed his eyes.

Amy was in the kitchen, facing away from him. She was chopping fruit or something. Maybe baking…it doesn’t matter stop overthinking it. Shadow wrapped his arms around her, one lacing between her breasts and the other crossing her belly to clutch her hip. She smelled amazingly fresh, like a crisp, ripe peach.

Amy giggled.

Shadow grunted. His shaft eagerly dispensed into his hand. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over the tip, spreading the stickiness there. Of course he’d bitten near through the flesh of his dominate had, so he had to start off-handed.

Shadow? Amy’s voice is full of mock outrage. Why did his name sound so musical on her lips? “Amy…” He groaned, struggling to keep his opening volley slow.

He pressed her tightly to his chest and nuzzled through her pink quills to locate the crook of her neck. He pressed his hips against her, grinding into her firm ass with a rolling motion. Fuck it had felt so good to knot her.

Shadow! The abolishment was colored with a laugh. Shadow pulled her away from the counter. “Amy.” He growled, desire outlining his words. He lifted her like she was nothing and took her somewhere soft. Couch, bed, lawn, plush carpet, maybe all at once. It was a fantasy, wasn’t it?

Shadow rose and twisted, getting on his hand and knees. He tried to ignore twinge from his injury and pressed his head into the pile of pillows to compensate.

Amy was spread out below him, bright blush coloring her cheeks, an alluring feast just for him. Her shining veridian eyes twinkled with mischief. She’s going to make him work for it. Maybe there’s a dusting of flour on her nose. So fucking cute! He picked up the pace.

Shadow buried his face into her neck once more and ran his tongue up the delicate curve, relishing her scent and leaving plenty of his own. His mouth watered. In his mind his claim mark on her was red, his red, and matched perfectly with her natural pink. Beautiful. Done with her neck, his tongue traversed the edge of her face up to her twitching ear, tasting her.

“Ma pêche,” He murmured. “So sweet.” All for him. His. No one else. His forever. A flavor, impossibly sweet, all his own. He could be possessive in his mind. That was fine, wasn’t it? In his mind, she loved it.

Her fingers lightly dug into his shoulders. Amy pressed her claws into him and slowly drug them downwards to tangle in the patch of white on his chest. Shadow’s spine tingled and he bucked up into his hand. Shit! Had to slow down.

Sha- Amy gasped. He lifted to look into her sparking green eyes, while his hand traveled down, pulling up the edge of the white apron (embroidered with little strawberries). She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. She giggled again. Here he was thinking he had surprised her, but Amy was always a step ahead. She knew she was a delicacy from which he simply could not abstain.

His hand found her depths and she gave him a little shuddering whimper. “Let me hear you, my peach.” She pursed her lips and with a teasing smirk she moaned his name, just the way he loves, Shadow. The woman knew him to a T.

His face pressed against the pile of pillows and a breath brought a scent into his mouth that blinded him with a sudden spark of his instincts. He rooted through the pillows face first like some kind of burrowing animal. The scent bloomed thicker and thicker. Why were there so many fucking pillows? What was the goddamned purpose of so ma- That one! Shadow grasped the tiny, overstuffed thing and shoved against his nose.

Strawberries and vanilla.

A shudder rushed through him from head to loins, reverberating along his spine. He ached. His strokes sped up, more desperate now. Had to relieve the pressure. Had to cool the inferno eating him from the inside.

Nicole, with her giant, merciless efficient eraser, had missed one tiny remnant of Amy. Amy had been here. Had been with him, for better or worse. Amy. It had been real. Amy. Did that mean what he felt now was real, too?

Shadow buried his face into Amy’s pillow. The scent of her still infected every inch of him, but the fresh waft flared all his baser impulses. He let her get away! Why did he do that? Find her! Bring her back! Don’t let her leave, never ever ever again!

He gasped. Shit! Cramp. Shadow changed hands. Fuck! His bite wound did not care for that one bit. He settled back into his impulses, letting the instinctual eagerness dull the pain. He bit down on the pillow, digging his fangs in.

Her eyes squeezed close as Shadow entered. He choked, his mouth full of fabric, at how tight and moist she was for him. Amy’s legs came up and gripped Shadow around the waist with a vice-like strength. He was stuck. No escape from the cave of pleasures without permission.

I want… She mewls. “Tell Me.” Shadow gasped desperately. “Anything, I will give it to you.” Please, tell me! The sun, the moon, everything in between. Tell me, Amy!

Faster, her desire a filthy noise ripping through his mind. “As you wish.” He savaged the pillow like an animal. Oh god. He could taste her. Delicious, sweetness. Lucious, perfectly ripened. At this speed, he was making a wet sound.

Harder, she shrieked. “Of course.” He moaned. She knew what she did to him. Every brush of fingers over his chest. Every flirtatious twitch of her lips. Unraveling him. Unmaking him. Breaking him into base components to be reformed later into the shape of her choosing.

M-more! She writhed, her back arcing, her legs clutching him tightly, drawing him deeper. “Everything.” Amy had it all. Everything he was or will be. He couldn’t stand it. The heat and the pressure and the disgusting desire to bite and claim and possess!

A-hah The gorgeous expanse of pink below him, his entire world, his entire universe, quaked. *“*That’s right, Amy. Just like that.”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

He can’t breathe.

Its-!

He’s about to-!

I love you, Amy whispered like Shadow deserved it.

The abused decorative pillow muffed his mindless noises as Shadow spilled long white ropes all over the fresh coverlet. The cramped hand tried to keep him aloft as rode out the waves of his orgasm.

Finally finished, he released the pillow, spitting out some torn stuffing, and flopped over away from the mess he’d made. His throat felt raw and he stared blankly at the dark ceiling. Thank god his knot knew he was alone. He did not have the proper equipment here to deal with that.

With a shiver, Shadow realized his imagination wasn’t through with him. Amy curled close, her hand creeping over his chest and her leg wrapping around his. That wasn’t so hard, was it? She teased. Wha-? Why? But he’d- He should be free of her. That was the whole point of this.

You’re done when I say you’re done, mister. Shadow choked and felt himself start to quicken again.

Fuck, me!

He shot up and crawled out of the bed. He went to the on suite and splashed cold water onto his face. He noticed a few glistening drops on the fur of his belly and chest. With an irritated hmph, he turned on the water in the shower and left it tuned to cold. This bathroom didn’t have his favorite products, but he just needed a quick rinse anyway. He stepped in and didn’t leave until he was shivering, but fully settled.

Toweled off, Shadow pulled his pants back on. All done. Back to the real world. The fight with the board. Procuring his mother’s endorsement. Getting his Alpha blockers project back on track. Getting Rouge elected without getting caught violating too many any laws. Asking Amy what she would like for breakfast.

His fingers tightened around his belt. How would her smile shine in a bar of morning sunlight filtering through delicate curtains? Stop. Did she take coffee or tea? How did she like it? Stop it! What would they do later? Whatever she liked. Stop stop stop! Did she play tennis? What about chess?

He needed help. This…infatuation wasn’t stopping, wasn’t even dulling, despite his best efforts…Shadow ran a hand down his face. Perhaps masturbating to the thought of Amy hadn’t been the best idea if his goal was to forget about her. What the fuck is wrong with you? He heard Rouge’s words so clearly. He didn’t know. He simply didn’t know.

How long had it been since his last roll I the hay? It had been…coming off his last rut? Nearly five months then. Shadow was hardly celibate, but his guests rarely stayed past a perfunctory breakfast and none were invited back. Through no fault of their own, of course. Shadow simply had not felt interested in a repeat visit before.

But he hadn’t had an Omega in over ten years. Not since he’d vowed never again. Slumping into a plush armchair, Shadow hung his head and ran his hands through his damp quills. The memories of his sins bubbled up. How could he think he had a right to ever touch an Omega again?

And yet he had. And wanted to, again. Couldn’t stop thinking about it. Could not stop thinking about Amy!

He really needed help.

Fighting to slow his haggard breathing, Shadow pulled out his phone and texted his brother. Message sent, Shadow looked at the time and grimaced. *Great timing…*He cursed himself. Eclipse would be with his family, enjoying the scant few hours a day he could give his pack.

Before Shadow could text again to tell Eclipse to forget it until the morning, his phone lit up with a call.

“Brother.” Shadow answered.

“What’s wrong?” His brother’s voice was low and, in the background, Shadow could hear one of the children talking. Sounded like Nox. Shit, his nephew’s birthday was coming up. Nicole probably already had a gift lined up. “Shadow?” Eclipse asked with more urgency.

“Tu avais un minute pour parler? I have a personal matter I would like your opinion on. Rouge isn’t available.” She’d splash him with liquid nitrogen and smash off his cock with a hammer if she knew.

“Un instant s'il te plaît.” Shadow heard Eclipse say something away from the phone receiver. “If you are interrupting me to complain about Mother, so help me, Shadow, I will make you suffer.”

Shadow rolled his eyes. “Your turn first.”

“What?”

“Are you away?” Shadow heard the closing of a door.

“Yes. Now, what is this about?”

To his credit, Eclipse remained silent while Shadow described his previous evening’s activities and the maze of thoughts he’d been trapped in all day. When he’d finished, Shadow waited for a response. After a pregnant pause, he asked, “Eclipse?” If the call had dropped, Shadow was just fucked. He would never repeat what he’d recounted.

“I need a moment to finish mulling through all the uncharitable and unhelpful thoughts I have.”

“I see…”

The silence drug on. Eclipse would occasionally snicker softly. Shadow found his ears burning with growing irritation. “You are a saint, resisting the urge tease me to this extent, plagued as you are by a legion of, I’m sure, biting snipes.” Shadow hissed. Once the words were out, he regretted them immediately. He was the one asking for help, goddamn it, act like it.

“Oh, you have no idea, Shadow. You’d have found the means to teleport through the radio waves to strangle me three times over by now.”

“Are you finished?”

“Yes. I am ready to provide useful advice. I now understand your...preoccupation earlier today. First, though, congratulations, Shadow. From the bottom of my heart, I’m thrilled for you.”

Shadow blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Is the lucky woman a hedgehog?” Shadow wasn’t sure if he’d describe Amy as lucky, given her circumstances.

That was irrelevant information. “She is…” Where was this going?

“Mon dieu, Shadow, you’ve the luck of the devil himself. I’ve half a mind of accusing you of making a pact like Father. So many of your problems solved at once. You’ve finally decided to end your self-imposed loneliness and, what’s more, Mother will be pleased. I shall have Meridian talk to Nicole regarding your wedding colors.”

“Eclipse-“ Shadow growled, not appreciating his brother’s jokes.

“Fine, perhaps Mother won’t be pleased, but she’ll at least not be openly hostile to the girl. You should knock her up quickly, though. Grandchildren will help. I have been firm that three is enough for me, but she still niggles me like a mosquito.”

Shadow sighed and pinched the bridge of his snout. “You’re not listening to me. I want to forget about Amy.”

There was a pause. “Why the hell for?”

Shadow expressed his frustration with a growl. “Why do you think? I don’t know her, not really, and yet I can’t stop thinking about her. And she’s an Omega. I can’t be trusted- How do I even know these thoughts, these feelings are even real?”

Shadow laughed, short and bitterly. “She’s probably terrified of me.” An idea struck him like a bolt of lightning. “She might even be taken. By another Alpha or maybe she’s got a Beta. A boyfriend. A spouse. She said something about her helping too far away. I don’t know. Nique-moi!”

“No, thank you. You could just ask her, you know.” Eclipse’s tone was so casual, Shadow wanted to reach through the and throttle him.

“Be serious.”

“I am being serious, you fucking coward.” Shadow blanched at the venom in his brother’s voice. “How else do you purpose you gain that information? Elucidate me.”

Nicole would know, for one, but that option was repugnant to Shadow.

When Shadow did not answer, Eclipse sighed. “Here. Perform a thought experiment for me. Imagine for a second that you and she are Betas. No heats nor ruts. No socially or genetically imposed hierarchy. In that situation, what would you do?”

It was an absurd hypothetical. Completely irrelevant. Still, Shadow found himself enjoying the thought. How much simpler this whole situation would be. Quaint almost. Fuck, Eclipse was right. “I-I’d ask her if she’d like to go on a date with me.” Shadow felt downright childish even speaking the words.

“My god, you are smart, frère aîné.”

“Fuck you.”

“If you must. You will need Meridian’s and Aphelion’s permission, though.”

Shadow ignored the bait. “It’s not that simple!”

“I see. And you are comfortable making these decisions for her?”

“W-what? I-m not-”

“You seem very stubbornly sure that you know what’s best for her. What she feels. What she wants. Not once even considering just asking her. Surely, she would hate to have to be presented with a choice. Very Alpha of you, brother. Father would be proud.”

Shadow found himself hissing at the comparison. He’d let the first slide, but now Eclipse was pushing his patience. His brother chuckled, satisfied with his baiting.

“You’re right.” Shadow admitted.

“It happens more than you would like to admit.”

Shadow was tired with bantering. “I have a lot to think about. Thank you, Eclipse.”

“You’re welcome. Good night, Shadow.”

“Good night.”

“And, Shadow.”

“Yes?”

“Unless it’s a matter of life or death, I never want to be interrupt when I’m with my family to hear about your sex life ever again. I will castrate you.” Shadow was aware of Eclipse’s skills with a knife. It was not an empty threat.

“Noted.”