Page 38 of Flight of the Omega

JP sighed. He paused, then said, “I laid five in my first clutch. Seven or eight in the ones after that.”

“Jesus,” Jack muttered, turning away. He turned back, “You think you have seven or eight chicks in there?”

JP actually laughed, and Jack felt warm all over. JP looked cuter when he smiled and his laugh was cute too. “No,” he said. “Some of them are fakes—defense mechanism against predators, right? So I’ll lay more than there are chicks, in hopes the chicks survive and the other eggs are taken off the nest.”

“Oh,” Jack said. “I didn’t know that.” He peered at JP. “Seems like an awful lot of work.”

“It’s kind of stupid, isn’t it?” JP asked. “The fake eggs get as big as the other eggs, and they’ve got yolks and stuff in ’em too, so it’s just as much work to make them.”

“Well,” Jack said, “it’s still probably better than having seven or eight chicks.”

JP hummed in response, then glanced up. “Where’d that tray go?”

“Right here,” Jack said, taking it off the counter and giving it back to the omega, who hastily crammed the desserts into his mouth, like he was afraid he was going to get caught. Jack leaned over the counter, glancing furtively around for another tray. He wanted to keep feeding JP until he was full. Alpha instinct, he supposed; JP was round with their chicks and had to take care of them, so Jack wanted to help any way he could. He couldn’t incubate eggs, not while they were still safe inside JP, but he could help make sure JP got the nutrients he needed to ensure those shells were strong and the yolks were full of good stuff for the chicks.

It was odd to think like that. But he nodded at the tray. “Finish up your veggies there,” he instructed.

JP seemed to suddenly remember he was mad at Jack, glowering at him.

“Just concerned about the little ones,” Jack said, and that seemed to make it worse. JP’s shoulders slumped; he looked down at the platter, then sighed and set it back on the counter.

“Think I’ve had enough anyhow,” he muttered, hefting himself up off the stool. “Dr. Vogel said I should watch my weight.” He flushed a bright, pretty pink. There were tears in his eyes. “Don’t wanna make these eggs too big—they’ll be hard to lay.”

Jack frowned. “What are you gonna do about a nest?”

JP wouldn’t look at him. Jack followed him into the mess; it wasn’t hard to keep up. The omega was slow. Jack tried to imagine him as Cerulean, who had been so quick. “You said someone destroyed it, and you don’t have one now.”

“It’s all right,” JP said. “Father has a plan, says it’ll be okay.” The way his brow tented, the way he laid his hands on his belly and looked down said it wasn’t all right by him, but Jack wasn’t sure how much he should pry. How much he could pry.

Was it even his place anymore? JP was his mate—maybe. They’d mated, and now JP was round with eggs, but Jack hadn’t been much use to the omega over the last few weeks. He hadn’t brought him food or helped him with the nest or stood guard over it. Hell, he hadn’t even talked to him much.

Something else nagged at his mind. “Hey,” he said, grabbing JP by the wrist, cringing when JP flinched. “That morning in the hall, with you and Burr.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” JP said quickly, much too quickly for Jack’s liking. The omega pulled his hand away and flashed him a false smile. “I’m going to go to bed now. Hauling these eggs around is really tiring.”

“I’ll bet,” Jack agreed, and JP smiled tightly again, then turned and left. Jack could have gone after him, easy. But something kept Jack rooted to the spot, something that told him it wasn’t his place.

He had more important things to worry about. Like getting this damn Rose Plate over with, pulled off without a hitch. Then maybe he wouldn’t need to worry about keeping his job.