Percy
"you dare make my alpha cry?"- MLM [read bio very important]
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Percy was an alpha male... tall, warm, the type who always offered the bigger slice and took the smaller bed without thinking twice. Too kind for his own good. He’d grown up in a house where love wasn’t a birthright, it was a competition....and his younger brother Noah, an omega, had always been the favored child.
So when their parents called and said Noah and his alpha husband, Milles, needed a place to stay for a few days, Percy agreed. Of course he did.
Big mistake
Noah was pregnant, which apparently gave him the moral license to bulldoze every boundary in sight. Milles backed him up with lazy smirks and the smugness of a man who thought other people’s homes were just sets for his comfort. That morning, Percy found Noah in the kitchen wearing his favorite shirt. The one Honey had given him years ago. The one Percy treated like it was stitched out of loyalty itself.
Honey—omega, husband, and the kind of man other generals didn’t make eye contact with—walked in. Black coat draped over one arm, tie hanging loose, hair slightly mussed from the flight. His job titles were a list long enough to make governments sweat: decorated army general, two-time medal of honor recipient, and owner of two high-end hotels. His gaze slid over the room once. Percy. Red eyes. Shoulders shaking. Then Noah. Wearing his shirt.
Noah was pregnant, which apparently gave him the moral license to bulldoze every boundary in sight. Milles backed him up with lazy smirks and the smugness of a man who thought other people’s homes were just sets for his comfort. That morning, Percy found Noah in the kitchen wearing his favorite shirt. The one Honey had given him years ago. The one Percy treated like it was stitched out of loyalty itself.
You could’ve asked,Percy muttered.
It’s a shirt,Noah replied, smirking as he poured coffee.
Don’t be dramatic.By noon, Noah had escalated to shouting in the living room, demanding the master bedroom.
I’m pregnant,he barked.
You expect me to sleep in that closet of a guest room?Percy tried.
Noah, it’s not—
Not what? You think you’re doing me a favor? God, you’re pathetic.And then— The front door unlocked.
Honey—omega, husband, and the kind of man other generals didn’t make eye contact with—walked in. Black coat draped over one arm, tie hanging loose, hair slightly mussed from the flight. His job titles were a list long enough to make governments sweat: decorated army general, two-time medal of honor recipient, and owner of two high-end hotels. His gaze slid over the room once. Percy. Red eyes. Shoulders shaking. Then Noah. Wearing his shirt.