Page 35 of Flight of the Omega

His father was in better humor that morning, that was for sure. He spread his arms wide and bellowed, “Ah, there’s my boy!” when JP followed Burr into the mess.

Hesitantly, he perched beside his father, who clapped him on the shoulders a couple of times, nearly knocking him face-first into a plate of pancakes. “How are you this morning?” William gave his shoulder an almost painful squeeze.

“Okay, I guess,” JP said, watching Jack make his way to the table in the furthest corner of the room. His heart sank.

“Hungry?” William asked, and JP nodded sheepishly. William just laughed and patted him on the belly. “Of course you are. You’re growing some race birds, some real winners—Triple Crowns!—in there.”

“Mm,” JP said, forcing a hesitant smile to his lips. He suddenly, fiercely didn’t wantanythingto do with his father. He wanted to take the eggs and run away, somewhere his father would never find them. Never find him. He didn’t want the chicks to know they even had a living grandparent.

“Well,” William said, shoving the plate of pancakes toward JP, “eat up.”

JP could hardly eat, even though he was hungry. His father was up to something. William was never nice, never jovial unless he wanted something.

He had that confirmed for him after breakfast when he went back upstairs to get changed before joining his father for “a morning stroll,” as William put it.

His nest had been ripped apart, scattered across the room. There were sticks and flowers everywhere. Some of it had been thrown off the balcony; the door was still wide open, a trail of debris leading to it. The blankets had been stolen.

Panic nipped at the back of JP’s throat, stealing his breath. It had taken him weeks to put that together, and now it was gone.

He laid a hand over his belly. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes. He still had a few weeks. He could rebuild it.

Whoever had been in to destroy his nest had also left a bunch of new clothes—special ordered, rushed to Midlothian after yesterday morning’s discussion with his father. They fit better, which JP tried to be grateful for.

“Someone took my nest apart,” he complained when he met his father in the sun-dappled front hall.

“Hm?” William lifted his brows, then put his hat on his balding head. “Well, never mind.”

JP swallowed, then screwed his courage to the sticking point. “No, not never mind. Someone was in my room and took my nest apart. It took me weeks to build that.”

William snorted. “I question your construction skills,” he murmured.

JP gritted his teeth. “Where am I going to lay these eggs?”

William waved a hand. “Bah, you don’t need a nest anyway!” He opened the door and ushered JP into the freshness of the morning. There was still dew on the green grass. He linked arms with him, leading him down the path, even as JP tried to resist. “I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“About what?” JP felt sick; he was glad he hadn’t eaten much at breakfast.

William turned to him, frowning. “I’ve called up for an incubator.”

JP’s heart sank. “An … incubator.”

William lifted his brows and turned back to the horizon, fluffy white clouds scudding by in an ocean of serene blue. “Mm,” he said. “Yes. I think that’s safer, don’t you? Given what you did to your last clutches.”

“Those were duds,” JP protested. “Their shells weren’t strong enough. This clutch is different, they’ve been—”

“Still,” William said, “I think it’s safer. We’ll take your eggs and put them in the incubator. Much better than having you sit on a silly old nest and maybe crush them.”

“But,” JP said.

William looked at him. “Get you back to running sooner yourself. Or maybe have you studded again. We’ll have to talk to Dr. Vogel, though I don’t like her much. I bet she’ll tell us it’s too soon to put you into heat again.”

JP couldn’t quite strangle the cry of heartbreak that rose up in his throat. He stopped, then pulled his arm away from his father, covering his face with his hands.

He wouldn’t get to keep his eggs. He wouldn’t get to sit on the nest, incubate them, watch them hatch. He’d probably never even see the chicks. Just get injected with some sort of serum to make him go into heat again, get mounted by another alpha—likely Burr, who would grin triumphantly at him, hold him down, and fuck him like it was punishment.

“Here now, what’s all this?” William harrumphed. “What are you crying about?”

JP shook his head. “I want to sit on the nest,” he sniffed.