Heat for sale

“He gave birth to you. And, yes, maybe he walked away and left you with your father—who raised you to be the kind of man that Nathan would never have raised you to be. He’d have done the same thing to you that he did to me. You got a clean break from him. That was his gift to you. He didn’t torture you for years with promises of love and then yank it away. He let you stay with a man who adored you. So your father was too religious and kept you more i

That’s what Nathan always said about why he left you with him. ‘He had kind eyes.’ ”

Adrien’s chin trembled. His heart ached, and he covered his face with his hands.

“So go on and blame him if you want. Blame me. Be angry. But none of

what we had—have, could still have—would exist without Nathan. I don’t love him anymore. Not just because he’s dead. But because he was a cruel man, and he treated me terribly. I understand that now. But I am grateful to him, because he made you, and then I found you, and now we have Michael.”

He stopped a moment. “And, Adrien, I love you. Our life could be beautiful.

Please—” Heath’s voice was gruff. “Try to forgive me.”

“I want to,” Adrien whispered. “I want to forgive you. I’ll try. But…”

“But?”

The big clock in the nest ticked as Adrien’s mind raced. Finally, he said,

“I need to try somewhere else. I can’t stay here. In this nest.” He looked around the room and it felt exactly like what Heath had denied it was: a comfortable prison.

“So you’re going to leave me, too?”

Adrien squeezed his eyes shut. “Maybe. I am Nathan’s son after all.” He stood, hauling the bag he’d packed while they’d waited for Simon to take Michael over his shoulder. He’d known even then, deep down, what he was going to do. “I’ll contact you when Michael and I are settled in. We can arrange for you to visit.”

“Where are you taking him?”

“I’ll call you when I get there.”

Adrien walked toward the door leading to the rest of the castle. Some part of him expected Heath to tackle him, to force him to stay, but he pulled the door open without any effort at all. As he did, he heard Heath roar with pain in the living room. It made his knees weak, but he forced himself forward.

Simon stood outside with Michael in his arms and his cheeks wet with tears.

“You can come visit, too,” Adrien said, taking the baby from him. “We’ll miss you.”

Simon said nothing at all, hiccupping sobs slipping out of his throat.

It wasn’t until he’d led Adrien down the winding halls and up the stairs, and then out into the sunlight in front of the massive house that he finally spoke.

“You said nothing could change the way you feel,” Simon rasped. “And I said I’d remind you of that.”

Adrien hugged Simon, kissed his soft, wet cheek, and whispered, “I love him. That hasn’t changed. But trust… That’s another matter.”

He climbed into his car that someone had pulled around and left ru

There was a baby seat in the back for Michael, and he strapped him in. He looked so small in it, so helpless and tiny. Adrien’s heart broke.

He headed down the drive toward the giant gate, his throat tight with screams he couldn’t seem to let out.

The fairy tale was over.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“I DON’T NEED to hear that you told me so.”

Heath sat in the gazebo, the empty nest behind him, and plucked the petals from a rose. It had been three days since Adrien left and there had been no word at all. He was trying not to panic, but with every passing minute he imagined all sorts of terrible scenarios. He hadn’t slept for more than a few minutes, and he missed them both like his peace depended on them being back in arm’s reach.

Simon took the bench across from him and remained silent.

“I should have told him from the start.”

Simon shrugged, his jowls shaking with the movement. “You didn’t intend to fall for him. How could you have known he’d be so different from Nathan?”

“I was selfish. I didn’t see him as his own person until it was too late.”

Heath plucked the last petal and let it fall. Then turned and snapped off another late bloomer and began to pick it apart, too. “I should have known when the heat crush was so strong.”

“And if you had told him then? In the middle of his heat?”

Heath shook his head. “It would have been unfair to him. Forced a choice when he didn’t have any. I should have told him before so that he could back out, sell to another alpha.”

“I’m not the person you need to be saying all this to, lovey.”

Heath groaned. “I hurt him. He trusted me.”

“Should have, would have, could have,” Simon said, and tutted. “What’s done is done, as you were telling Lidell. Now what are you going to do about it?”

“I wish I knew.”

“Moping here isn’t going to get your son and lover back.”

“I’m not moping,” Heath growled.

“What are you doing then? Ignoring the ugly truth again? You screwed up, lovey, and you’re going to have to make it right. No amount of sulking

and wringing your hands is going to do that. So figure out a plan and enact it.

You’re Heath Clearwater, heir to the Clearwater estate, and you’re in love with a boy who’s out of his depth. Go get him.”

“What if he doesn’t want me to? I’ve already hurt him enough.”

“Heath, for God’s sake, he has your son.”

“Michael will be safe with him.”

“Will he? Adrien is young and has no family, nowhere to go. He’s angry with you, and is afraid he can’t trust you. He’s still in post-partum drop, and he’s alone. He needs his alpha.” Simon leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “And you need him, too. The bond you were building together was a beautiful one. Go claim it.”

Heath squeezed the half-destroyed rose in his hand. “I lied to him.”

“You didn’t lie, you withheld.”

Heath huffed. “Are you really going to argue semantics as an excuse, old man? You never let me get away with that as a child.”

Simon was silent for a long time then, and Heath thought maybe he was going to stop trying to cajole Heath into action. But alas.

“I remember when Nathan died,” Simon said, twisting his hands together in his lap. “After all you’d been through with him, you still grieved him hard.

I remember more than one night when you lamented that he had never fully trusted you.”

“He didn’t.”

“Oh, but he did,” Simon corrected. “He trusted that you’d always be there for him, no matter what he did, and you were.” He shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes. “He used you that way, of course, but, Heath, he trusted you completely. He simply wasn’t trustworthy himself, as evidenced by his broken promises and inability to be honest with you. You’re the one who never trusted enough.”

Heath snorted. “Excuse me?”

“You never trusted in Nathan’s love.”

“How could I when he ran around doing whatever he wanted and—”

“Because he always came home to you. Don’t get me wrong. Nathan wasn’t a good omega for you, but not because he didn’t trust you or love you, but because he put you on your knees. He was the one in command. He didn’t love you the way you need to be loved—adoringly, unquestioningly, and submissively. The way Adrien does.”

Heath ground his teeth, not wanting to hear another word, but pi

Simon ignored his interjection and went on. “You were so afraid that Adrien would be like Nathan that you didn’t trust him either. And in his way, he was like his omega parent. From the start, Adrien put his trust in you, like Nathan did. He grew to love you, like Nathan did. But unlike his omega parent, he’d have committed to you, Heath.”

“I know what I’ve lost.”

“You’re so self-righteous at times, playing the martyr. Oh, brave, honorable Heath, all the other peers say. Helping his horrible brother, supporting his bratty nephew, and putting up with such an unloyal lover.”

Simon tutted again. “But you’re just as much to blame as Lidell, Ned, and Nathan. You take on the savior role like you don’t trust that your brother or nephew can handle themselves. You endured Nathan’s behavior like you didn’t trust in the flow of life to provide you with love. Even now you doubt it, though life has given you love. Twice.” Simon spoke firmly. “You always say that Nathan had trust issues, but you’re the one with trust issues, Heath.”

Heath stared at the man who’d raised him, who’d seen him through it all, good and bad. “What do I do? How do I fix myself? And this?”

“Adrien needs a strong hand.”

“Yes.”

“In that very important way, he isn’t like Nathan. Think of his life, lovey: under his father’s command, then under his professor’s command at university. He says he wants to be a professor himself, but a research professor, a quiet man digging into his particular passions behind the scenes.

Adrien complied without question with the matcher at the university. That information was on his auction page. Yes, I looked. Can you ever imagine Nathan doing that?”

Simon crossed the gazebo and sat down on the bench next to Heath, putting his wrinkled hand on Heath’s knee. “Adrien’s good for you in all the ways Nathan never was, because he doesn’t put you on your knees. He lets you stand tall and be an alpha. His style of submissive love allows you to feel precious and honored. Those are feelings Nathan never gave you. Every alpha has a weakness, and every omega should know what it is before marrying or making a lifelong commitment. Lack of trust is yours. Adrien knows that now.”

“I wish I knew how to shut down my damned heart.”

“No, that heart is your greatest gift.” Simon squeezed his knee and spoke with great gentleness. “Heath, lovey, he’s worth the risk. Adrien isn’t ru

“I don’t know where he is.”