“Cameron,” Emory groaned, and his lion gave a plaintive howl.
“I know, buddy, I know. I already called him, and he’s on his way to your apartment. We need to get you there now,” Christopher said, adjusting his grip on Emory’s shoulder so he could begin steering him to the door.
“I don’t know why this is happening,” Emory said. He felt like he was wading through mud. Meanwhile, his lion began running in circles. “I always take suppressants the month before, and I’m fine. I was going to do that this time too because we…we haven’t even… Oh, gods.”
“I know you and Cameron haven’t been intimate before, but he wouldn’t and doesn’t want you to suffer through rut alone. He’s on his way to–”
“No,” Emory said, digging his heels in and stopping the progress they had been making towards the exit. “No, no, no, it can’t be like this. I haven’t been off suppressants for ruts since I was a teen, and even then, it was…it was a lot, Chris. Lions are very aggressive, violent animals.”
“You would never hurt Cameron. Even during your rut. It’s almost impossible for an alpha to hurt their fated mate during rut or heat. You know that.”
Yes, Emory had heard from a young age that fate wouldn’t pair him with someone who couldn’t withstand his ruts. In fact, his mom had once implied that omegas who were fated mates with alpha lions enjoyed their alpha’s ruts. Emory had threatened to wash his ears out with bleach if she said any more on the matter, so she’d dropped it, but his father had winked at him, and that had been just as bad.
He hadn’t even talked to Cameron about ruts yet. Not all shifters went through ruts. He was pretty sure from his limited knowledge of octopuses that they definitely didn’t. He thoughtthat, in the wild, omega octopuses actually ate the alphas after they mated.
Emory’s lion gave a concerned mewl, much closer to that of a house cat than of a lion. Yeah, Emory was right there with his beast. This was an absolutely terrible, horrible idea.
He came to his senses when Christopher shoved him into his waiting town car. Emory tried to climb out, but Christopher let out an angry otter growl and shoved him farther into the car, then got in beside him.
“Chris, no, you need to go back in—weneed to go back in. This is absurd. There’s no way I’m going into rut, and there’s doubly no way I’m going home to see Cameron if I somehow am. I’ll go to mother’s mansion to–”
“Do you have any supplies there?” Christopher asked as the town car pulled away from the curb and, at Christopher’s direction, began to speed through the city streets.
No, of course Emory didn’t have any rutting supplies at his mother’s house. He barely had any in his apartment. The suppressants he’d been taking since his teens made it so his rut only consisted of a few really horny days, during which he’d run through his bookmarked collection of porn and rub his dick raw with every Fleshlight and vibrator he owned–which was only two or three, and then he’d be done and wouldn't touch his dick for a couple of weeks.
This felt different, though. Now that he knew what was happening, he could feel it. His balls ached, and his abs were clenching and unclenching, pulling at his aching lower back. His teeth and fingers were also aching, yearning to shift and claw and bite into something. Intosomeone.
Like his poor, unsuspecting Cameron.
“Chris, you have to call Cameron back and—ngh!” he grunted, as his body seized.
Christopher threw his arm out across Emory’s chest, pressing him back into the car seat, so he didn’t try to throw himself from the moving vehicle to go find his mate.
Run from his mate?
Mate his mate?
Breedhis mate.
“No!” Emory shouted, trying to stop his racing thoughts as he desperately clawed at Christopher’s arm.
“Em, we’re almost home. I’m going to get you in the elevator, and you can get yourself settled, maybe take the edge off, and Cameron will be there soon.”
“No, no, he can’t… I can’t… Chris, please,” Emory begged even as his hips began to grind up into the air.
He would be ashamed except that their drivers operated with the utmost discretion, and Christopher had definitely seen him in worse positions before. Notmuchworse, but that time he’d gotten food poisoning in the airport still took first prize. He’d thrown up on all fours for twenty minutes straight while actively trying to pay for the flights of everyone who had the misfortune of passing by him.
“Emory, listen to me. I explained everything to Cameron. I told him how lion ruts work from everything you’ve shared with me over the years, and I told him he didn’t have to come, he could just FaceTime–”
“Yes!” Emory gasped. “He could… We could sext or…phone-sex or whatever it's called. He doesn’t… He can’t… Chris!”
Emory’s hips snapped up as his back pulled taut again, and he ended up curling onto his side, falling into Christopher’s lap.
Christopher let out a shocked grunt, but then immediately began carding his fingers through Emory’s hair. Emory’s lion made a surprised noise and cocked his head to the side, momentarily stopping his frantic pacing to gauge how they felt about having another alpha touch their hair the way Camerondid. It was only because it was Christopher, their Christopher, that they both allowed it to continue.
“Yeah, Cameron told me your secret, big guy. I know you’re just a squishy little kitten on the inside who wants to be pet and loved. That’s why Cameron said he’s obviously going to come over and spend your first rut together.”
Emory whimpered, and tears pricked the backs of his eyes. Gods, he had wanted to spend more time with Cameron and finally take him to bed—but not like this. This could very well ruin everything.
