Page 36 of Puck Your Bunny

I grab the carton from the fridge and add a splash into his mug. I mix a generous amount of hazelnut creamer into my cup. I carry the hot mugs across the linoleum floor. I grab two cork coasters and set one in front of Wally. I place his mug down with care. Hale built this table from scratch. I run my thumb over the polished wood. I sit in the chair across from him, wrapping my fingers around the warm ceramic.

I blow on the surface of my hot coffee. "You guys treat my boundaries like suggestions."

"We plan to shift our lives to fit yours." Wally takes a sip from his mug. "We're all in, Vayda."

"I appreciate the groceries and the fence, the driveway, the roof, everything. I mean it." I run a finger around the rim of my cup. "But I have a decade on all three of you."

"Ten years means zero to us." Wally shrugs, dismissing the concern. "We make our own choices."

"Kel mentioned retiring." I grip the mug tighter. "I draw the line at you throwing away a dynasty for me."

"Playing past your twenties guarantees bad knees and busted joints." Wally sets his mug on the table. "We want to quit on top. Winning the Alpha Cup brings in massive sponsorship cash. That money lets us walk away on our own terms. We can pivot into normal jobs with normal hours, giving us the time to step up for you and Brendan."

I shake my head, gearing up to argue the point.

"We signed up for caregiving classes." Wally leans forward. "We start on our next off day. We want to learn the right way to lift him and handle his routine."

The air leaves my lungs. I stare at him.

They signed up for classes?

"We got another problem." Wally keeps his dark eyes locked on mine. "Missing your next Heat gives us rejection sickness, too. It wrecks Alphas with the exact same fever."

Guilt tightens my chest. The rejection sickness spared Brendan. I suffered the agony alone for three years. My brain categorized the pain as an isolated problem. The reality of our time in that shed clicks into place. Our bodies recognized the match. Pushing them away sentences three men to the same nightmare I endured.

"I got used to hurting alone." I stare at the dark liquid in my mug. "I forgot the sickness hits you guys, too."

Wally stares at the steam rising from his mug. "How did Brendan dodge the fever? The injury changed everything between you."

"The specialists think his brain damage protects him." I take a sip of the hot coffee. "He lacks the awareness to process the loss."

Wally tilts his head. "Do your Heats trigger him?"

I swallow hard. "His hormones react to an Omega in Heat. The sensation confuses his injured brain. Arousal causes him severe distress and panic."

Wally traces the rim of his mug. "Bonded Omegas smell like a blank slate to me. An Alpha's mark overwrites their original scent to warn off other guys."

He meets my gaze, keeping his expression open. "Finishing our bond leaves a new mark. Our scent could mask your pheromones and stop sending Brendan into a panic. It's your call, Vayda. Pitch the idea to his doctors."

Them marking me is something for me to think about, right now I don’t know if I could handle that.

"Wait here." I push my chair back from the table. "I need to get dressed and wake him up."

I head to the guest bedroom. I pull on a pair of clean jeans and a soft t-shirt. I walk down the hall to the master bedroom and begin the careful process of transferring Brendan from the mattress to his chair.

I wheel Brendan into the kitchen fifteen minutes later. Wally stands up from the dining table. He walks over and crouches beside the wheels of the chair, putting himself below Brendan's eye level.

"Morning, Brendan." Wally offers a respectful nod. "I'm Wally. We head out for a road trip soon. I just wanted to introduce myself before we leave."

Brendan turns his head. His bright blue eyes focus on the large hockey player. He makes a low, contented humming noise in his chest.

I walk to the counter to prep Brendan's breakfast. I blend fresh mango into a bowl of vanilla yogurt. I crush his morning pills and stir the powder into the food. I grab a spoon from the drawer.

I carry the bowl over to the dining table and take the seat next to Brendan's wheelchair. Cali jumps into Wally's lap. The calico cat purrs loud enough to echo off the kitchen walls. Wally strokes her fur with his thick fingers.

"Well, hello." Wally scratches behind her ears. "You run a loud motor. What's her name?"

"Cali." I scoop a bite of the mango blend and hold it up to Brendan's mouth.