Whine Pairing

The sun lowered below the horizon and the countless lights of the City flickered to life, enabling the sleepless denizens to continue their lives unhindered by the fickle limitations of terrestrial rotation. A chill wind blew down the long streets and avenues cutting the metropolis into discreet pieces, reminding anyone foolish enough to forget a coat that winter was very much coming. A normal Saturday evening.

As Shadow and Amy walked along the sidewalk, instead of looking at potential dinner locations, the dark hedgehog’s attention was predominantly on his companion and, of course, every person they passed, lest any random meat sack stray too close to his Omega.

Her eyes scanned every restaurant they passed, and he watched her face closely, looking for clues about where to end their search. Occasionally she glanced his way, and Shadow would shift his gaze quickly to whatever posted menu or window Amy had been looking at, attempting to disguise his preoccupation.

Eventually, they stopped before an establishment that Shadow was certain described itself as ‘contemporary’. The genre had gained popularity a number of years ago. The traditional dining trappings were exchanged for ‘casual’ or ‘excentric’ variations. Wait staff in butcher’s aprons and bartenders with elaborately coifed fur and whiskers. Open kitchens and uncommon dining utensils like shears instead of knives or small gardening trowels rather than spoons. Food served on anything other than plates. Inconvenience repackaged as novelty.

He’d taken Rouge to a place like this years ago. She’d promptly had three of her favorite cocktails (equal parts amaretto, Irish cream, and vanilla vodka – a concoction she called a Happy Ending – hideously sweet, in Shadow’s opinion) and gone on a long rant about the concept of hyperreality and the devolution of politics into aesthetics. The reproduction has to be more vivid than the original! More enticing, more engaging to draw attention. Before you know it, the real is supplanted by the fake! Shadow vaguely remembered her going home with the executive chef that night.

Shadow wouldn’t have selected a place like this if a hotdog stand with a low Health Code score was the only alternative. But tonight wasn’t about him and he’d gladly eat broken glass if Amy wanted to try it. Unfortunately, she looked at the menu with growing interest – the dessert section especially – and for longer than any they’d past thus far.

Shit. There were worst things, weren’t there? “This establishment appears intriguing.” Shadow commented.

Amy turned to him, her dazzling eyes bright and eager. “You think so? You want to try it?” Her naiveté was endearing.

Don’t scoff. Don’t roll your eyes. Don’t snort. Don’t grimace!

Shadow achieved the impossible and plastered across his face what he hoped looked like, if nothing else, mildly pleased neutrality. “Yes.” He lied through his god damned teeth.

The way Amy’s face lit up made up for the terrible coffee this place no doubt served. Her light shone brilliantly in his sky, a guiding star by which he navigated the darkness. If he saw nothing else than Amy’s smile for the rest of his time on this world, Shadow would have considered himself blessed. This restaurant would rival the best and most refined he’d ever experienced if Amy was across the table from him.

Once again, Shadow moved towards the door to pull it open for Amy. To some extent, he felt himself relax in a way he hadn’t been aware he’d been tense. Bringing Amy indoors, out of the elements and into a smaller, controlled environment…Huh. He felt a murmur of dissonance. Something deep inside Shadow stirred and before he could identify the interloper, a truly terrible idea appeared in the forefront of his mind.

Anyone could walk right up and Claim her from him.

Shadow shivered despite himself. Stowing the thought away took more effort than normal, clinging as it was to his consciousness with more tenacity than even some of his stronger violent impulses. This might be a problem.

Luckily, Amy seemingly hadn’t noticed. She had paused before the open door again, but this time her snout was in the air, sniffing enthusiastically. Reflexively, Shadow drew in a deep breath and…oh.

Amy smiled at him. “Do you smell that?”

Yes. “I don’t, I’m afraid. What is it?” Auspicious he’d never promised to reframe from lying to her.

“The Festival!” Amy’s excitement smothered Shadow’s distaste for what was coming. He’d intended for them to walk through the Festival after eating, after they’d had the chance to talk semi-privately, after he had had the chance to down two or more drinks. Then they were to enjoy the night air, carnival games, and fireworks display whilst enduring blaring live music and crushing crowds and distasteful clouds of greasy smells.

“I completely forgot the Harvest Festival had started.” Amy smiled, eyes sparkling and hooded, “That’s what you had planned, wasn’t it.” She smirked, coyly. “Not just a regular walk by the river?”

Shadow developed a small smile. “You’ve puzzled me out.” Focus on her. Focus on her excitement. Come on, you idiot. Abandon your own useless feelings and cling on to hers. Yours are venomous. Hers are heaven.

Amy surged forward and snatched Shadow’s free hand. He gasped softly, his heart thrilling at the contact and her willingness to give it to him. “Let’s eat at the Festival! I bet there’s a ton of vendors cooking up all sorts of things!”

Shadow briefly thought about how unsanitary such conditions were but resolved to ignore his reservations. And to speak nothing of the quality. But how could he say no to Amy?

“Are you sure?” Shadow made one last ditch effort to avoid his fate. She was drawing him back out into the hustle and bustle of other people. Worse, into a crowded area poisoned with a miasma of scents so thick, he would struggle to identify threats properly. Stop thinking like that. This isn’t a fucking war zone.

Amy’s exuberance dimmed instantly as she examined his face, clearly trying to ascertain the hidden meaning behind his poorly veiled attempt to derail the inevitable. The decay triggered a flare of Shadow’s self-loathing – stupid, terrible Alpha making his Omega unhappy – and spawned a panicked desire to fix the problem.

Shadow released the door handle. “Allons-y alors.” He wasn’t distressed at all regarding how fluid their plans were. That would be controlling, petty, common. And Shadow wasn’t any of those things, so this did not bother him in the slightest no matter how every passing Alpha scent compelled him to sink his teeth into Amy’s neck.

The blockers were supposed to nullify these impulses. Why weren’t they working? Should he be more concerned? He should be-

Amy wrapped her arm around his and everything suddenly became fine. Better than fine. Amazing. It didn’t matter that his mark wasn’t on her shoulder because anyone with eyes and a singular braincell could tell she was his. He repressed a shudder, but drew in his arm slightly, drawing Amy infinitesimally closer to his side.

Shadow had chosen the Festival as the activity for their date without fully understanding exactly what it entailed. He imagined something quaint and rather tame, especially given the purported point of the festival. How many people could be interested in celebrating the harvest in this day and age.

He had been very wrong.

The waterfront was a writhing warren of bodies. The white tents Shadow had watched spread like a fungus from the height of his office had fully metastasized. The maze of vendors created arteries utterly clogged with festival attendees. Artisans pedaled wares, barkers drew fools to simplistic and rigged games, small stages lifted bands of musicians slightly higher than the hoi polloi. And then there were the food stalls.

Grease.

Mon Dieu, so much grease.

In stark contrast to Shadow’s disgusted internal thrashing, Amy was animated with glee. The occasionally meek and quiet photographer was suddenly lively, as if drawing energy directly from their surroundings. Her head swiveled freely, eager to absorb every sight and sound and smell. Her arm remained curled around his, leading him with her as she deviated from straight paths to look in every tent.

Shadow watched Amy, starstruck, like he’d discovered a beautiful flower that only bloomed in exactly the right conditions. He tried to focus on her mirth, on her engagement. Shadow had no interest in kitschy handmade arts and crafts – his style much more sleek, streamlined…sterile – but he could catch secondhand enjoyment from Amy’s infectious aura. And her amazing scent.

Laced with excitement and happiness, Amy’s aroma was intoxicating, addictive, wholly irresistible. Shadow strongly expected a large portion of his life would now be dedicated to chasing the high she was giving him. Oh well, there were certainly worse ways to spend one’s time.

It seemed every other little this and that she wanted to point at and explain what she loved about it. The colors here, the craftsmanship there. A large, crocheted bag in the shape of a cupcake attracted special attention so much so that Amy asked after the price. Given that Shadow’s basis of comparison was Eclipse complaining about trying to acquire a particular Birkin bag Meridian wanted, the quoted amount was nothing.

Still, Amy grew morose. “Oh, sorry, that’s a bit outside of my budget.” She told the peddler.

Shadow stiffened. His impulse was to offer to purchase the bag for her, but Amy had reacted poorly to (inconsequentially small) gifts before. Her disinterest – distaste, even – in the monetary consequences of his attention both flummoxed and fascinated him. So, he did nothing, locking up rather than allowing himself to err.

Amy felt his rigidity and, after giving his face a quick once over, pulled him from the tent. “Let’s look over here!” She said, disappointment fully dispelled and pearlescent joy reasserting its dominance. Shadow felt a bloom of pride spread through his chest, like he’d passed a test.

Shadow didn’t care for crowds much. Sure, he’d been to plenty of packed conventions and parties and benefits and conferences, but rarely did he go out into such a public throng. Amy though…she seemed to be thriving, reveling in the crush.

Think about that, he told himself. Focus on her happiness. Discredit his own discomfort. Listen. Learn. Follow her lead. Still, Shadow had difficulty relinquishing control of his emotions to Amy while also keeping his consciousness free of his own, darker impulses. As with every skill, he assured himself, mastery came with practice.

Eventually they arrived at the impromptu open air food hall. Vendors cooked in tents, in trucks, on open flames as long lines of patrons twisted back and forth like a nest of snakes. “Oh, wow. It’s busy!” The prospect of a long wait didn’t seem to tarnish Amy’s enthusiasm. “We should split up.” She declared.

Shadow’s hackles rose at the prospect of distance between them. “It’s rather crowded…”

“We’ll be both standing in line forever otherwise.” Amy released his arm and he immediately missed the warmth and weight. “You get something savory and I’ll get something sweet, how about that? Then we’ll meet at the picnic tables.” She pointed to a seating area with very little seating available.

He wanted to say no. He aggressively wanted to say no.

He nodded. “I believe you’ve designed an effective strategy.” Shadow retrieved his billfold and withdrew some money.

“Oh, no, it’s-“ Amy began to protest.

“If you would recall,” Shadow cut her off, “one of the conditions of tonight was that I would be monetarily responsible.” He smirked. The bag was one matter, and this was an entirely different scenario. “If you think you can maneuver out of our agreement, Amy, you are sorely mistaken.” He lifted his chin slightly, adding a subtle reminder of their height difference.

Amy flushed bashfully. “Well, when you put it that way…” She took what he offered. Her brows lifted at the amount.

“Will that amount suffice?”

“Gosh, I hope so.” Amy giggled and looked up at him, fondly. His heart did a backflip and lodged itself some place funny. Even illuminated by the harsh flood lights, Amy was spectacularly beautiful. There did not seem to be an angle or set of conditions that disabled her ability to steal his breath with but a glance. “Are you okay?” She giggled again.

Shadow blinked, returning to the here and now. “What should I procure?” He asked.

Amy winked (oh mon dieu, vous pouvez m'emmener maintenant) and grinned slyly. “Surprise me! See you at the picnic tables!” She turned with a wave and moved cautiously through the roil of people, seemingly already having determined a stall to patronize.

Shadow was left alone to struggle with his desire to follow her. When she passed out of his sight, his desire turned to panic and he stood motionless for a long moment, arduously bringing himself back under control.

Even as his heartrate lowered, that dark thought wouldn’t go away. In fact, it had grown in intensity. If he could not dispel it, the nasty thing would lodge in his psyche and become a conviction, one Shadow would be powerless to avoid acting upon.

Anyone could walk right up and Claim her from him. So, he had to Claim her first.

He balled his fists, squeezing so tightly the leather of his gloves strained. The pressure wasn’t enough. Shadow bit the inside of his cheek, his sharp Alpha fangs – fangs that should be in Amy’s neck! stop it– broke the soft flesh there and filled his mouth with the metallic tang of his own blood. The pain and the taste seemed to draw him back together.

Shadow’s habit of self-harm as a means of regaining control of himself could hardly be described as healthy, but, over the years, it was the only method that worked consistently and quickly. When the alternative was letting the darkness of his soul manifest into the world again…the decision was clear. He would destroy himself to protect Amy the world.

Regretting the time he’d wasted just standing like an idiot, Shadow scanned the food court, assessing what might be the closest thing to proper food. Every stall was swarmed and every menu written in infantile chicken scratch. Eventually Shadow abandoned all hope and joined the nearest line. If Amy wanted a surprise, he might as well join in on the fun.

Unfortunately, waiting drew Shadow back into his thoughts. He tried to examine the crowd in some manner other than disgust or tried to not think about how Amy was not within arm’s length. She carried an aura that, when he was in its graces, made all this crush tolerable. Outside her range, the disdain he felt was intolerable.

There were too many people. There were too many scents. There were too many other Alphas.

Shadow found he was gritting his teeth so hard his jaw began to protest. His ears strained at constant attention and his nostrils flared as his lungs worked like billows to draw in as much aromatics as possible. His body was certain a tangible threat was in the area and, god damn it, it would not let Shadow be caught unawares.

He forced his eyes closed. Fuck, you can’t just stand in a line, can you? Even when you’re failing to protect her, you choose the weakest, most pathetic way to go about it. He wasn’t failing, he insisted. This was fine. Amy was having a good time. This was the middle of the safest part of the City and only a few blocks from his offices, for god’s sake. What could possibly happen to her here?

By the time Shadow got to the front of the line, he’d spent so much time ruminating that he’d failed to formulate an order. A cheerful badger with a pad of paper greeted him and asked him what he’d be having. Suddenly on the spot, Shadow frantically scanned the menu, barely registering the Chun-nan fusion nature of the stall, and ordered a random selection of dumplings that could be creatively described as dim sum.

“饿汉!” (a/n: È hàn!) The badger declared ecstatically to another badger working a portable stove set up billowing steam through bamboo baskets. The other badger snickered and said something the black hedgehog couldn’t make out over the clatter of cookware.

Shadow, already irritated by Amy’s absence, flushed. “我不只是给自己点餐” (a/n: Wǒ bù zhǐshì jǐ zìjǐ diǎn cān) He explained bitterly. His Chun-nanese wasn’t perfect, but he’d done enough business in the Far East to need to understand what the men on the other side of the negotiation table were muttering to each other.

The badger’s eyes grew large, and he looked at Shadow like he was seeing the man for the first time. “S-Sorry, sir, I didn’t-“

“Right,” Shadow snapped, “you didn’t think.” He felt a rush of embarrassment for expressing his anger so shamelessly. What did he care about others’ thoughts on how much he was ordering? Idiot. Picking fights with cooks?

Looking uncomfortable, the badger turned a portable, electronic register towards Shadow to tap his credit card. Instead, he extended a large note (the only denomination he was carrying). He didn’t need his credit card company flagging a suspicious purchase and freezing the account until they got Nicole on the phone to confirm its legitimacy.

“I-I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t break a bill this big.” The badger frowned, clearly nervous now. “The festival is supposed to be cashless.”

“I don’t require change.” Shadow stated flatly.

The badger’s face scrunched in confusion briefly before blowing wide in surprise. “Oh, gosh, thank you! Your order’ll be ready soon!”

Shadow grunted and moved to the side to stand with the many patrons also waiting for their food.

He scanned the crowd. His anger at the badger was fading quickly and giving way to a cold, heavy fatigue. Where was Amy? Shadow wanted to be near her and absorb some of her warming light. The evening had, thus far, gone completely different than he had planned and his usual methods of forcing a situation back into the shape he preferred were unavailable.

For all his confidence in his adaptive abilities, Shadow was being laid low by trivial adjustments. In a business meeting or across a negotiation table, he was a shark, he was the darkness of the abyss, he was merciless and efficient, carving his share of a deal with wit and guile and stone-faced audacity.

Here? Here he felt like a fool, and a fearful one at that.

How could he expect to protect Amy like this?

After all, he knew exactly how fragile Omegas could be.

Shadow’s chest clenched. The sounds of the festival faded, quickly being replaced by a ringing. His spines bristled.

She wasn’t next to him. She should be next to him. He needed to make sure she was next to him. He needed to find her and make sure she was safe and make sure she was always safe. She couldn’t be safe because she wasn’t next to him.

The thoughts filed through his consciousness faster and faster, repeating endlessly like a panicked Mobius strip. Shadow squeezed his eyes shut. By sheer force of will, he was able to force the thoughts away, but he was left panting slightly, with the ringing in his ears replaced by the pounding of his pulse.

Then, as if stepping out of a nightmare, Shadow was suddenly perfectly fine again, because Amy was headed towards him, balancing a collection of paper dishes across her hands and forearms. A bottle of water stuck out from her purse, an essential element to their meal that Shadow had completely forgotten to purchase.

Amy glanced at his empty hands. “Long line?”

“Yes, though my order should be ready promptly.”

She settled beside him, radiating the ethereal warmth he didn’t deserve, but eagerly absorbed.

He looked into Amy’s flotilla of disposable boats. It was a motley selection. Some sponge cake drenched in syrup with whipped cream and strawberries. A tangled mess of fried…something hidden under a thick snow of confectioner’s sugar. An ice cream sandwich where both outer parts were a large chocolate chip cookie.

And- “What is…” Shadow looked at a pair of brownish, doughy balls covered in more confectioner’s sugar, something dark hidden inside. Poorly made beignets with a hazelnut filling?

“Fried Oreos!” Amy offered, as if that explained anything.

His brain returned static. Shadow knew both of those words, but together the concept was completely absent from his lexicon. “Those are a type of cookie, right?”

Amy’s face froze for a moment before she answered, “Yeah. It’s two chocolate cookies with cream in the middle.”

“And then battered and deep fried?”

“Yeah, I mean, no. Regular Oreos aren’t fried. But festival ones are!” She maneuvered her arms and Shadow took several of her charges before they landed on the ground. Mostly unburdened, Amy stabbed a plastic fork into one of the dough balls and lifted it to her mouth. She took a small bite and then fumbled for the bottle of water to take a drink. “They’re still very hot!” She laughed and Shadow found the mirth contagious. She had powdered sugar on the tip of her snout.

Mon dieu, he was going to have to eat one of these disgusting things, wasn’t he?

Shadow’s order was called and he was faced with his own fleet of small plates. Luckily, Amy appeared with a plastic tray and the whole assortment was put to dry dock. Then began the arduous task of finding a place to sit.

An area has been set aside to be populated by lines and lines of temporary tables and seating. Though every space wasn’t filled, spaces were few and far between, with both of them needing to sit shoulder to shoulder with strangers (a prospect that was absolutely intolerable to Shadow).

There had to be some secondary option. If they back tracked into the forest of skyscrapers, he was confident they could find some semi-vacant courtyard inset into a high-rise. Even his office was an available private dining area.

“It is quite busy here.” Shadow glanced at the mass of people once more. “Perhaps we could relocate somewhere more private?”

Amy bristled and Shadow’s hyperawareness shifted suddenly from the unknown threats in the crowds to her. Her eyes caught his and he beheld a guarded cautiousness that befuddled him. “I like it here.” She said.

Shadow had wanted to have a chance for them to just talk together. About family or interests or, hell, the weather, if it pleased her, just anything for them to get to know each other. Yes, technically they could talk here, but the significant ratio of people per square foot wasn’t what he’d like. “I’d enjoy a quiet setting.” He got the distinct impression of stepping on a live land-mine.

Amy’s scent gained a sharpness that hit Shadow like a slap in the face. “You can’t stand having me out in the open, can you?” She muttered ruefully.

Of course not! How could he like seeing her exposed to so many loathsome Alphas? How could he enjoy the thought of a million unknown horrors befalling her? Of course, he wanted nothing more than to lock her away where only he could reach her and only he could access her mind, her soul, her body!

Shadow took a moment to recover from his stun. “I believe I must have misspoken,” He said cautiously, “for, I fear, you have misconstrued my meaning.”

Amy looked away, the sharpness dissipating to Shadow’s relief. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” She sighed, “I didn’t mean to snap…It’s just that,” Amy had her hands clasped together, the nail of her thumb being pressed sharply into the fabric of her gloves, “How many Omegas do you think are here?”

Shadow hadn’t thought about it. He’d been focusing solely on her scent and any possible competitors. The scent of other Omegas was little more than background noise to him now. “If I must hazard a guess, I’d say five percent seems logical.”

Amy shook her head. “You’re assuming that all the people here follow the same mix as the overall populace. But most Omegas don’t or can’t go to events like this. It’s too dangerous for an Unclaimed Omega to be here alone and most Alphas are too possessive to let their Omegas near other Alphas. So, maybe one percent or less…” She snorted. “Maybe just me.”

Shadow swallowed thickly. The dark thought emerged again, stronger than before.

Anyone could walk right up and Claim her from him. So, he had to Claim her first. It would be for her own good.

His mind buzzed with competing desires.

“So,” Amy continued, “even though it might not seem like it, based on…how I acted, but it means a lot to me that you wanted to come here with me. That you were okay with me being in a crowded setting like this. It feels normal. Like I’m…normal.”

Shadow’s heart ached for Amy and a thick shame threatened to engulf him. He’d managed to resist the urges, but he was exactly what Amy feared. He hated her being here. He lusted to sequester her away to keep her pregnant and out of every other set of eyes but his own.

But he hadn’t acted. He was a man, not a beast, and he could control himself. He would practice being the man she wanted, she deserved, and eventually he’d actually become that man.

“I apologize, Amy. I didn’t mean to imply I wished to hide you. I am delighted that you are enjoying yourself so.”

She smiled. “I’m sorry, too. It’s just a touchy subject for me.” Duly noted. She drew a long breath, “Can this be one of those things that you’re patient with me for?”

“Of course.”

Movement in the corner of Shadow’s vision caught his attention. “That table has emptied.” He set off immediately to colonize the open territory lest some other outfit stake a claim first. Only when he was placing the tray down that he realized, with a stab of panic, that he’d abandoned Amy. He managed to keep from turning. She is right behind you, he told himself. He could trust her to be out of his sight.

“Good spotting!” She smiled as she slid into the seat opposite him. Shadow’s relief was immediate. Amy snatched up a pair of disposable chopsticks and unsheathed them from their paper sleeve. “So, what’s all this? Potstickers?” She dramatically pulled the chopsticks apart with a snap!

Shadow sat. He pointed at a set of lily-white steamed buns, “Char sui bao, though I think they’re filled with something other than barbeque pork.” Next, the ‘potstickers’, “Shengjian bao. Again, the filling was something…non-standard. It should be pork, but it might be duck.” Why hadn’t he paid more attention to the menu. Now Shadow sounded like an idiot. Still, he continued, “These are xiaolongbao. Be careful. There is a hot liquid inside of them.”

“Inside? How do they get it in the dumpling? Like a syringe or something?”

“I,” Shadow tried to think, “don’t know.” He’d honestly never thought about it.

Amy took the paper tray and held it below a soup dumpling as she took a bite. Sure enough, once the doughy flesh ripped, broth erupted and she squeaked in surprise. Shadow snickered. Recovering quickly, Amy dunked the popped dumpling into a small plastic ramakin of sauce and then ate it.

“Mmmm!” She hummed, her eyes squeezed shut in culinary ecstasy, “This is soo good!”

Shadow smiled and plucked up a shrimp shumai for himself. It was surprisingly tender and well-seasoned, though the flavor wasn’t exactly traditional.

Amy set upon the spread like a plague of locusts. She tried one of everything first, her eyes bright and a stream of delighted (and delightful) noises spilling from her lips. Shadow sat back, his chopsticks poised, but unmoving, and watched her. He’d gladly go hungry because Amy’s happiness was sustenance enough.

Shadow couldn’t understand how happy she was at such simple and inane things. This festival wasn’t crowded and noise; it was lively. The shops weren’t cheap and strange; they were eclectic. The food wasn’t a pale imitation of greater cuisines; it was just delicious. Amy seemed to be living in a completely different world, one brighter, more engaging, more exciting, and Shadow wanted to join her.

Being careful to avoid Amy’s animated chopsticks, he took a dumpling for himself. Could he set his expectations aside and just enjoy the bite for what it was? He placed it in his mouth and chewed. Shadow had to admit that, if he intentionally forgot what each morsal was supposed to be, the fare was pleasant, actually.

“It’s good, right?” Amy prompted as she took a brief break to drink some water. “These are the best potstickers I’ve ever had!” Oh, there was going to be a trip to Chun-nan in the future, mark his words. Maybe next year, maybe five years from now, but Shadow would take Amy for proper dim sum.

On the spot, Shadow found himself pointlessly defensive. “The lemongrass isn’t fresh.” Shit.

Amy covered her mouth as she laughed, hiding partially masticated dumplings. “You’re such a food snob!” She declared.

Shadow straightened. “I beg your pardon?” He quirked a brow, definitely personally affronted but also overjoyed for making her laugh. “A refined palate is a skill honed over a long period of time.”

“And it stops you from liking good food?”

“I enjoy good food just fine, it’s just-“ Stop talking. “I do not encounter it frequently.” Idiot!

Amy continued to laugh and Shadow found his face heating. She and Eclipse would get along swimmingly. Shadow’s preferences always seemed to amuse his brother and drive him to feckless teasing, as if trying to get a rouse from Shadow like they were still children.

“I guess these weren’t cooked with imported water.” Amy giggled.

“Ah.” Shadow recalled his comment from Tuesday morning. “You will find, my dear, that I am flexible in many aspects of life, but pastry simply is not one of them.”

Amy shrugged, still grinning. “You missed out. Those were the best croissants I’ve ever had.”

Her incorrect pronunciation aside, Shadow could present Amy with actual high-quality croissant in less than twelve hours. He’d offer to take her across the Drink right now, but such a sudden burst of travel might be intimidating. And he wasn’t sure what he’d do in a jet cabin breathing Amy’s recirculated scent for eight hours. “If, in the future, we should find ourselves in Eurish, or better yet, in my Motherland, I will make sure you are educated on what proper croissant tastes like.”

Amy cocked her head, her curled quills jostling. “Your family is from Eurish, right? Which part?”

“Avalon, though my paterfamilias is hails from Petrovia. We moved to the City when I was nearly ten years old.”

“That must have been hard,” Amy frowned sympathetically, “leaving your friends and moving to a whole new country so far away.”

Shadow shrugged. “Perhaps.” After what his father had done to his mother’s family…At the time Shadow hadn’t understood why they had to move or why none of his cousins, aunts, or uncles would ever talk to him again. Now, however…there was no use trying to rebuild bridges on cursed ground.

“Well, I can’t imagine pastry being any tastier.” Amy sighed. “It was nice to have them again.”

Shadow frowned. Again? What could that mean? There had been plenty left. Was she referring to reheating the leftovers? “Again?”

Amy jolted and flushed. “Uh.” Shadow’s nose twitched as Amy’s scent shifted. His frown deepened.

She was about to lie to him.

She was about to lie to him and there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

Shadow grew very still, his gaze sharp as his mind reeled through scenarios where Amy’s statement made any sense at all. Amy looked down at the table, clearly having had her hand caught in the cookie jar. He’d promised to always believe her, he repeated to himself over and over. He promised.

The silence drug on. Should he prompt her to answer once more? Should he change the subject and forget about the whole thing? Would he be able to live not knowing? The guilt writ large on her face was impossible to ignore. Anger and jealousy and a hundred nasty, viscous emotions boiled deep in his gut, sending noxious vapors to lick at his mind.

Amy turned to stare at the continuous river of people flowing past the picnic tables. “I…” She began to speak without looking at Shadow, “have something I need to tell you…but I’m worried you’re going to be mad.”

Shadow swallowed through a constricted throat. This was a test. He was being given a chance to prove he could control himself, that he regretted his previous actions at the party and had learned from them. He could control himself. He would control himself. He had to control himself.

He was going to fuck this up.

When Shadow didn’t respond (because what was he supposed to say to that?), Amy turned, her brilliant eyes, darkened with fear and…guilt(!?), pinning him in place like a butterfly to a corkboard. “I know I can’t really ask you not to be angry, but, I guess…Well, I guess I just hope you won’t be.”

Shadow didn’t trust his voice, so he said nothing. He sat poised, ready to try to tackle any unkind thought and wrestle it to the ground. He probably looked irritated. Rouge liked to say he had resting ‘anger-face’. Unfortunately, he hadn’t the will to spare to adjust his expression.

Amy looked down at her fidgeting hands. He reached forward, taking her hands in his. She twitched, but didn’t pull away. “I will not promise not to, but I will promise to try to not to.” He said, looking deeply into her eyes. “But, you must know, there is nothing you could do that would make me cross with you, Amy.”

Her face softened, some of the fear dissipating. “No, it’s not something I did, o-or not really, I mean, I didn’t…It’s…” She swallowed and he saw her steel her resolve. “I was invited to meet someone, uh, through a detective and that someone was…your brother.”

Whatever Shadow had been expecting, it wasn’t that.

How

The sounds of the festival faded as a loud ringing filled his ears.

fucking

The sharp prickle of adrenaline entered his system.

DARE

His face shifted into a deadly blankness.

HE?

“I see.” Shadow’s voice sounded far away. Amy’s face blurred as his eyes lost focus, his attention moving to an internal world.

“He was very nice to me,” Amy said quickly, “but I wasn’t expecting it.” She shifted her hands from his now limp grip to hold one of his hands between both of hers.

Firearms were out of the question. Death too quick via the head and too slow via the gut.

“I really think he just wanted to meet me. It’s kinda sweet, actually. Don’t you think? He wanted to make sure I wasn’t…I don’t know, nuts or something. Isn’t that sweet?”

Same problem with knives. Worse even. Always harder to kill a man with a knife. Far too easy to survive.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner, but, I guess, I wanted to gather my thoughts. I’ve had kinda a wild week. We mostly talked about you and I’m sorry about talking about you behind your back…and I kinda did the same thing with Rouge. But I didn’t mean to, they just wanted to warn- To tell me about you.”

The fucking audacity! Talking to Shadow’s Omega behind his back? It’d have to be strangulation. Shadow needed to watch the light fade from Eclipse’s eyes from a front-row seat.

“Look, I know it was a joke, but he’d said you’d be…mad and try to hurt him for talking to me…but,” Amy looked up, her face soft and imploring, and she squeezed his hand, “you’re not going to…right? He was just joking because you’re brothers, right?”

Shadow’s murder-shaped thought bubble popped.

What was he doing? He was terribly selfish. Placing the responsibility for his betterment on Amy, even without her knowledge, was cruel and dastardly unfair. To put him in his place, fate was making him pay for his audacity by forcing lessons down his gullet with merciless speed and force.

Shadow was at a crossroads. Lying to Amy and enacting unfathomable harm on his own brother, his greatest ally and only remaining sibling, was clearly the darker path. Unmistakably the incorrect path, leading him backwards and contorting him once again into Father’s perfectly designed, wretched, and hateful shape.

The alternative was to relinquish his anger, seek no vengeance, collect no pound of flesh. A simple choice on paper or in retrospect or from any vantage point other than before the signpost. But in the moment, the past and future fell away and all that was present was instinct.

Shadow felt good when he was angry. The hot, righteous ire stoked the flames of action. He felt like he was on the precipice, viewing the field before a great battle, one he was certain to win. The anger muted all other voices in his head, providing a mutated doppelganger to clarity. He was being spurred into glorious action, action done in the service of his Omega, the most pure of intentions.

Amy didn’t want any of that. Not like this, she’d told him explicitly. She didn’t want his anger lashing out in her name. She didn’t want his soul sullying itself further. She didn’t want who Shadow had been, who he’d could easily become again.

Yes, Eclipse should have kept his fucking nose out of Amy’s business and, god as his witness, Shadow would make him pay…but not in blood. Revenge would be a dish best served cold this time.

“Could you…say something?”

Shadow blinked, Amy’s face returning to focus. How long had they sat there, his hand in hers? He coughed to give himself an excuse to pull away from Amy’s grasp.

“Yes,” He began, speaking slowly and clearly, “I am very upset that he chose to bother you behind my back, but I promise to withhold the fist his jaw very much deserves.” Amy’s worried expression lifted. “I am glad that he was an immaculate gentleman and left you with a good impression. He is a good man, albeit…infuriating at times.”

Amy laughed. Fuck was it the best music in the world. Nothing came close in his ears. “My brother was a little turd all the time. He got all defensive when my sister started dating, too.” She sat back and surveyed their spread of mostly empty plates.

She clapped. “Time for dessert!” The tension was still draining from Shadow, so the declaration took him by surprise. Uh-oh.

Amy dug into the sponge cake with one hand and placed the remaining fried Oreo squarely in front of Shadow. “I already had mine, so this one is for you!”

Well, it was time. The fried abomination had long cooled, any flavor given by the grease in which it had been baptized had dissipated. Shadow speared the remaining fried Oreo with a plastic fork and lifted it. He examined it closely, though doing so was probably a bad idea. The more he looked at the disgusting thing or thought about the sensation of having it in his mouth, the more revolted he grew.

Then, in his periphery, Shadow realized Amy was pointing her phone at him. His countenance hardened. “Are you filming me?”

Amy grinned, slyly. “Yeah.” He gave her a withering glare and Amy laughed. “Go on, Mister Grumpy. Try it!” She goaded. “You might like it.” Shadow didn’t care for that epithet.

“Doubtful.” God damn him, Shadow was not going to let such a trifle daunt him.

He stuffed the whole, stupid thing in his mouth.

He chewed.

It was chalky.

It was greasy.

It was cold.

It was fucking terrible.

It was too large and he started to choke on it. “Oh!” Amy exclaimed, dropping her phone and offering him the water bottle.

Shadow was committed. He refused to spit out the nasty amalgam of high fructose corn syrup and low-quality canola oil. His eagerness to evacuate his mouth led to large particles of food-adjacent substance to irritate his throat. He tried to take a drink, but he could only fit small sips into the periphery of the masticated mass.

Stubbornly, he pushed past his gag reflex and swallowed. Then he tried to breathe and realized he couldn’t.

Putain.

Amy shot to her feet and circled the table. She raised her fist and slammed it against his back with surprising force. “Shadow!” She wound up and struck him again.

The offending clump broke free under Amy’s battery and fell to its doom in Shadow’s stomach. He gasped, taking in air, just as Amy’s fist found its way between his dorsal quills against. Free of immediate danger and still recovering his sense, Shadow couldn’t resist giving a threatening growl.

Amy squeaked and backed away.

“Thank you.” He said, still gasping slightly.

Amy returned to her seat, her face still pale. “I’m sorry. Oreos are kinda dense. You’re supposed to take a couple bites instead of swallowing the whole thing at once.”

“Though I vow to never eat another one of those abominations, I will take your advice under consideration.”

Amy laughed mutedly. She had really been worried for him. Shadow blushed.

Shadow’s brief brush with death fading into the past, the pair returned to their dessert. Or rather Amy did and Shadow watched her. She did force him to take a few bites from her fork. Bites she made especially small.

“You seemed to know much about my family already.” Frankly, Shadow was feeling a bit drained, but he was determined to learn more about Amy. “May I ask to hear a bit about yours?”

“Oh! Yeah, sure!” Amy smiled. “I grew up in Green Hill. Or near Green Hill, really. It’s this small town on the Big Lake, but we lived far enough out to avoid all the lake-effect snow. Anyway, I’m the youngest of four. My mom is an elementary school teacher and my dad is a shift lead at this plant that makes ball bearings or something.”

Shadow blinked. He hadn’t developed any expectations, but what Amy described just seemed to fit. Her family sounded so…ordinary, but in a comforting and stable way.

“My eldest sister still lives in Green Hill with her family. My niece and nephew are so cute, by the way.” Amy smiled and Shadow found himself mirroring her, albeit mutedly. “She runs a bakery and makes just the best pies. My other sister moved to Lakeside City and works at some big computer company.”

“Big computer company?” Lakeside City was a hotbed for the tech industry. Several multi-billion-dollar tech conglomerates maintained a large campus there.

Amy’s brow scrunched as she tried to remember. “Shoot, what was the name of it? It’s that one with the really creepy slogan. It was…oh!” She snapped. “Don’t worry. SIS is always watching.” Amy recited the tagline with a mocking voice.

Shadow held his face still. Sage Information Systems was an information security firm within the Robotnik warren of concerns. SIS primarily did contract work with governments and law enforcement agencies, claiming their proprietary algorithms and technology could, with enough private data input and a large enough surveillance network, predict crime before any act was committed. SIS was always watching.

“She’s very smart. I think she does stuff with AI. You know, like, computers that think for themselves.”

“I possess some familiarity.” Shadow did not want to be reminded of his father’s current obsession. “You mentioned a brother.” He expertly derailed the topic.

“Oh,” Amy sobered, “my brother still lives with my parents. He’s had some trouble in the past.” She looked away and went silent for a moment. A bruise to not press. “Anyways, I lived there my whole life until I went to college.”

Amy smiled softly. “They’re all Betas, my whole family. When my second sex expressed, they really had no idea what to do with me. They tried though. They did the best they could. My mom and dad couldn’t decide on whether to treat me like I was sick or like I was special.”

Shadow remained silent, letting Amy fill the space at her own pace.

Amy took a deep breath and let all the air back out. “Heck, I’m the only Omega in my whole extended family, too. And there are a ton of Roses. At least in Green Hill. Most everyone stays near home…but not me. I just had to get out of there.”

“Why was that?” Shadow asked.

Amy paused and her smile faded. “I love my family and they love me. But once everyone knew I was an Omega, it was like that was all I was. There was everyone and then there was me. I guess I didn’t like being alone.” She sighed. “They meant well, but I got tired of being reminded to call them if anything happened to me or being asked if I was sure I wanted to go out. Or having one of my siblings sent with me even if I was just going down the street to the grocer.”

That’s why she’d snapped at him. Maria had been cloistered similarly, especially with her weak constitution. Mother would have never allowed her to be here like Amy was. And Shadow knew Maria would have loved this festival and all its people just as Amy did.

“I guess I thought, if I left, I could be more than just an Omega.” Amy grimaced. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being an Omega- It’s just the expectations other people have. Like everyone thinks they already know everything important about me. What I’m capable of, what I’m good for. Here in the City I could pretend to be a Beta and people wouldn’t treat me like stained glass…or meat.”

Shadow wasn’t sure what the right thing to say was. “I’m sorry you felt that way.” He settled on. “But it sounds like you had a good relationship with your family.”

Amy smiled softly and nodded. “I don’t go home much...” Her gaze grew distant for a moment, but then her eyes met Shadow’s. “But maybe next time I do, you could come with me?”

Shadow’s ears perked. “I would be honored.” Which reminded him…”Speaking of meeting family, I would like to invite you to a social gathering at my home next weekend. My mother,” He drew in and released a large breath, “has organized a garden party-“ and insists on your attendance. “I would love your company, and to introduce you to my brother properly, but the choice is fully your own.”

The invitation was out there now. Amy would come or she would not. Maybe she had other plans, maybe she simply didn’t wish to. Whatever her answer, he would weather the consequences. One of the few benefits of Eclipse’s meddling was that his brother, who seemed to have a positive (or at least non-negative) relationship with their mother and therefore more of her favor, could attest that Amy was, in fact, real, and that Shadow had not lied to Irena.

“Sure!” Amy said simply, pulling apart the tangled fried dough with her fingers and placing a segment into her mouth. “That sounds like fun! Though,” She ate another piece, “I should probably go shopping for a different dress.” She laughed. “This is the nicest one I have and it might be kinda weird to wear it in front of your family.”

Shadow frowned, embarrassment enflaming his cheeks. “Yes. That seems like a prudent course of action.”

Soon all the tasty sweets[sic] had been consumed. Amy stacked the paper baskets and pushed to her feet. “I need to go to the bathroom, okay?” A reasonable request. Shadow pivoted in his seat, unable to spot any viable prospects. “I saw some on the other side of the food court.” Amy pointed, “I’ll be right back.” And she was moving away.

Did Shadow feel an urge to launch his hand out and snatch Amy’s arm or to push to his feet and escort her? Why yes, he certainly did. But did he? Thank god, he did not. He was a hound that could learn new tricks.

While Shadow waited for Amy to return from the ladies room, he scanned the crowds passing by. Every whiff of an Alpha tightened his instincts a little further. He was being foolish, his urges whispered. None of these nothings would be a threat if he exercised his right to his Omega and Claimed her.

He swallowed roughly and unzipped his jacket. Even as the temperature had plunged with the sun, a sticky heat festered underneath his skin. Why was Amy taking so long? What if something had happened to her? Would it be wrong to go and check on her? He needed to go and-

Shadow’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he startled. Thanking some nameless deity for the distraction, he withdrew it. Rouge had been strangely patient in demanding details of his evening, so perhaps he could indulge-

Wait.

The message was from Breezie. Shadow frowned.

How you been? Nvm idfc. Yur accusing S-Phar of colluding with the NHS to poison the public? First, based. 2nd how dare you not give me heads up? 3st I WANT IN ASSHOLE. Consider your favor called for. an exclusive interview. you me a fuck ton of cameras booze too probably. my girl’ll talk to yours ttyl byeeee~~~~~

Shadow blinked, unbelieving what he had just read.

What

The

Fuck

Shadow thumbed to his KLS email and his shoulders sagged at the sheer number of panicked subject lines. The most recent email was Blaze commanding a media blackout. On pain of termination and litigation, no one was to talk to anyone external to KLS until a response to the Prower report was formulated. She was returning early from her honeymoon (merde) and quit putting stupid shit in emails, don’t you know all of this is discoverable?

His mouth dry, Shadow slid through earlier emails to understand what exactly had happened. Had someone leaked the Prower Labs report? That blue fucker perhaps? He needed to-

Amy appeared beside him. Shadow held his phone limply, momentarily paralyzed by competing priorities. She saw his hesitation. “Is something wrong?”

Shadow cleared his throat. “A minor issue at the office.” He slid his phone back into his pocket. He trusted his team. If he was needed, a member of the executive team would call him personally. Tonight was about Amy.

Amy frowned. “Do you need to leave?”

“No.” Shadow said immediately. “It can wait.” Amy brightened.

“Shall we have that walk then?”

So many problems and desires pulled at his attention, and he clung to the gentle sight of Amy’s expectant eyes on him. It was grounding, centering, leveling. She made him solid and thusly solidified, he could hold up the whole vault of heaven if needed.

“As you wish.”