Page 51 of Flight of the Omega

JP let his arms fall. He shook his head. “I’m a bad dam,” he whimpered. “I’m a really bad dam—awful. I …”

He looked up at Jack, who sighed. “Come in out of the cold, birdie. The eggs are getting cold too.”

JP sniffed, but he couldn’t stop the tears. He was so … awfully wretched at this, just like his father had said he would be. He stepped inside, slamming the door behind him.

Dr. Vogel brushed his hair out of his eyes. “Why don’t you change into your feathers?” she asked gently. “You’ll warm up faster that way—you’re shaking like a leaf.”

He followed her advice, shedding his snow-soaked clothes for feathers. She led him to the fire, and he fluffed himself out, mindful of his tail feathers. He cooed softly, sorrowfully at Jack and the eggs, trying to let them know he was sorry.

“It’s all right,” Jack said, and JP noticed Hank was minding the eggs for the moment. “You came back. I didn’t know what to expect this morning when you took off like that.”

JP cooed again, then made for the nest. Dr. Vogel caught him by the wing. “No,” she said. “We need to check you over first. Your chicks need you to be warm and dry.”

He fluffed in response, huffing. She rubbed his legs and his wings down though, which were stiff and itchy with cold. Finally, she let him make his way back to the nest. He rolled the eggs together with his beak, then perched on top of them, fluffing up again, tucking his wings in, his tail feathers. He trilled at the eggs, cooed and got up a few times to nudge at them, to let them know he was sorry he’d run off.

Jack dragged a blanket over his back and stroked his neck. “Why don’t you take a nap?” he asked, and JP thought that sounded like a good idea. He tucked his head under his wing.

He barely felt the prick, barely had time to raise his head before Jack had injected him with the sedative. “Sorry,” the alpha said, and then JP was out like a light.