Page 25 of Evan and the Alpha

“Yeah. No. Maybe.”

He chuckles again, then sits back a bit, regarding me critically. I squirm, both delighted and a bit pissed off that he can hold me captive with one hand, even as I struggle against his hold.

“If I didn’t know better,” he says, “I would say you’re in heat.” His gaze sobers. “First things first. You must eat.”

He lets go of me, and I sit up. “Must?” I quirk a brow.

He nods, then looks me up and down again. “Scrawny,” he surmises, and I splutter indignantly.

I mean, I know that. I’ve always been a toothpick. I’ve never been able to put on muscle like my brothers. Scott works out like a lot a lot—gym bro, army bro, whatever the hell you want to call him. He’s a beefcake. And Vince, Vince doesn’t even need to lift a finger. He’s just always perfectly fit and toned. He’s not jacked like Scott, sure, but he’s not scrawny like me and he’s not fat either.

Ikinda hate them both. I’ve always been a little self-conscious—I mean, not like, when I was a little kid or whatever, but when I was a preteen and in my teens. I’m … okay for now, because I can play the twink just fine. Suits me even. But I’ve definitely deleted my social accounts like five or ten times because I know they’re fucking with my head.

So I know exactly what Sobek’s saying, but I don’t exactly want to be called out on it. “Didn’t seem to bother you last night,” I huff.

Sobek hums a response. “I don’t mind,” he says, glancing me up and down again. “But I think our children will.”

I screw my eyes shut and shake my head. “’xcuse me, what? Children?” Who the fuck said anything about children?

“Mm,” Sobek agrees. He wanders out of the room, and I have to sidle off the bed, limping after him. I take a fur with me and keep it wrapped around me. My erection is starting to wilt—I think I might have found a fourth effective method of dealing with morning wood.

“Who said anything about kids?” I press as we enter the big, communal dining room in our suite. At least, I think this is a hotel room.

Sobek frowns. “That is what alphas and omegas mate for. Having children.”

Ohhhhh. Shit. I hadn’t even thought of that. Wek and Kiki’s discussion ofmates makes a lot more sense now.

“Okay, but I’m a dude,” I insist. When I see Sobek tilt his head like he wants to argue, I add, “Humans don’t work that way.”

Sobek grunts. It sounds a little frustrated. “So it would seem,” he murmurs, before flopping down on one of the pillows around the table.

I kneel on the one beside him. “So,” I say, “it doesn’t matter if I’m scrawny or not—I can’t get knocked up.”

Sobek eyes me. “Maybe,” he muses, “if you put on a little weight—”

I almost laugh, but I don’t want to insult him. “Nope. Not gonna help—I literally do not have the right organs for it.” Nor the right chromosomal combination.

I frown a bit. I wonder how kroakka sex is determined—it’s not fixed like in humans, so it can’t be chromosomal. Vince would know, I bet. He’s all into biology on the side. Says it makes him a better artist or … something.

I don’t ever ask him about that stuff; he’s got a lot of dead birds and weird anatomical things he draws, so I just leave him to it.

“You will,” Sobek assures me. “Just as surely as you want to be my omega, you are changing.”

I grin, then shake my head. “Really doubting it.”

My stomach ties itself in a strange knot when I meet his gaze. I mean, we doubted there was alien life—life at all—on this planet, and here’s this entire civilization.

My stomach flip-flops. So, what if I’m wrong? What if Sobek’s right?

I glance down at myself. What if …?

I turn my attention back to Sobek. “But, like, if it makes you happy …”

“I would like to not be able to see your ribs,” he almost grumbles, and I glance down again, noting my fur has fallen to pool in my lap. He’s right. My ribs are jutting out. More than usual, at least.

“Not my fault someone didn’t feed me,” I practically pout at him. “I told you I was hungry.”

He frowns intensely. “How can something so small be so hungry?” he grouses. “Constantly?”