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“Do you know how to cook it?” Evea asked.

“Water and you boil it,” Royce said. “I do know how to cook.”

“You just choose to live a depressing and fiber-void life of mono taste?” Evea asked. Royce didn’t answer. “Does this mean someone is finally using those fancy soaps and lotions we got you two Christmases ago?”

“How do you know I didn’t?” Royce asked.

“Because I have deductive reasoning and an olfactory system.” Evea rolled her eyes.

“Here.” Sandy handed him a cardboard cylinder. “Instructions are on the side. Put some maple syrup or some cinnamon in it for taste. For the love of fate, don’t give that poor omega plain oatmeal.”

Royce pursed his lips and stared at the oatmeal.

“You don’t have any of that, do you?” Evea asked.

“Come on.” Buford put a hand on his shoulder. “I have fresh wild honey and berries.”

Royce looked at him appreciatively as Buford guided Royce away from the bobcats and to his own orange front door.

Twenty minutes later, Royce was spooning oatmeal into bowls, then adding berries and honey. He had to admit it smelled amazing. Idly, he hoped it was good enough to entice Doc to eat. Royce had a hard time sleeping last night, knowing the omega had gone to bed hungry. Although he was appeased by the knowledge Doc had been comfortable enough to take a shower.

Grabbing the two bowls of oatmeal, he made his way upstairs. Adrenaline pulsed through his veins, his breath was raspy, and his palms were starting to sweat again. He was nervous, anxious, and terrified. He’d already screwed up his first meeting with his mate; he couldn’t keep making blunders. He couldn’t afford that, not now.

Not now there was a chance.

Not now there was hope blossoming in his life.

Maybe Royce didn’t need to spend the rest of forever alone. Maybe this was why he’d felt aimless most of his existence, because the other half of his spirit was walking around somewhere else. Going to vet school, building his own life of dreams and passion. Maybe with Doc at his side, he wouldn’t have to be half a man anymore.

Royce needed this to work. And a twisted part of himself thanked the fates Doc was taking suppressors so he could keep his head about himself and not go mental with lust. He was ashamed to think it; those suppressors could be doing permanent damage to the omega … but if Royce lost his head and tried to claim him before he was ready, that would damage him too.

It was a rock and a hard place.

No matter, Royce had faced worse. He was determined to make this work so Doc could get off those damned pills and stop using suppressor. The omega would be happy and healthy here. Royce could make him happy … if they were able to get past this.

If he lost his mate, he’d be a shell of a man for the rest of his life. That is until the madness took him. Even if he’d never properly scented him, Royce would know. He would know his fated mate was out there, the other half of his soul, but had chosen to turn away.

He tapped the door with the side of his foot. Shuffling sounded behind the door, then nothing.

“I made breakfast.” When no one responded, he pressed his elbow down on the door handle. No one screamed or attacked when the door swung, so he pushed it open enough to walk in. The doctor sat on the bed, his dark eyes pierced Royce with accusation.

“Morning, Doc,” Royce said. “Right … um … as I said, I made breakfast. Here, this one is for you.”

He shoved the bowl with more berries and honey at the omega, who took it without a word. When he didn’t make a move to eat, Royce sighed and took a bite of the oatmeal from Doc’s bowl.

“See, not tampered with.” Royce sat at the desk again. He surreptitiously surveyed the items he’d left in the room the previous night. There was less water, but it appeared nothing else had been touched. Except the sweats. Oh fate, the sweats … Seeing Doc bundled up in Royce’s giant sweater made his insides wriggle and go warm. The urge to crawl into the bed and curl protectively around the omega screamed at him.

Attempting to look casual and put the doctor at ease, he crossed his ankle over his knee, picked up his bowl and started eating. It was decent, a bit sweeter than he normally liked his food, but good. He’d have to thank his neighbors next time he saw them.

“Where are you from?” Royce asked, trying to sound conversational when his heart was racing. “I mean, before you came to Elk Cove.”

The omega picked at the food.

“Seerinoga,” he whispered.

“Oh, that’s way down south. Isn’t that by the Gulf and the border with the South American Conglomerate?” Seerinoga was an omega-only settlement, so why the heck had he left? The omega settlements had been built within the last fifty or so years and were supposed to be close to utopias for omegas. Royce wanted to ask him, but worried that might be insensitive, so instead he said, “Must be a big adjustment for you coming up here to Mount Rainier.”

“I’ll manage.”