"*Your parents, an alpha male and an omega male, were in a car accident, and your mother, the omega, passed away.* *Your father suffered greatly, falling into a deep depression, but the biggest problem was that during his heat cycle, he didn’t know how to
Onyx gently pushed open the door to his father's room, the familiar scent of pine and musk wafting through the air, but today it felt different—thicker, almost charged. He held a small bowl of their favorite green grapes, the ones he always kept ripening on the kitchen counter, and he thought perhaps they could brighten his father’s mood a little.
When Onyx entered, he was met with a sight that made him pause. His father, a once impressive figure now cloaked in shadows, sat on the edge of the bed with his head hung low. Depending on the day, he looked like either a formidable alpha or a man weighed down by sadness. Today, as the afternoon light filtered through the half-drawn curtains, making the room glow softly, it was clear something had shifted. His father's features appeared sharper, more intense, almost predatory.
“Dad?” Onyx said softly, stepping further into the room.
His father looked up, and Onyx was taken aback by the depth in those eyes—haze of emotion swirling within them. There was a smoldering intensity that felt foreign and a bit frightening. “What are you doing here, Onyx?” His voice was rough, as if he hadn’t spoken in hours.
“I brought you grapes,” Onyx replied, holding the bowl out shyly. “I thought maybe you’d like some.”
His father’s gaze dropped to the bowl, and for a moment, Onyx thought he might see a flicker of that familiar warmth, but it passed quickly, replaced by a look of yearning that made Onyx’s heart race. He took a step closer, wanting desperately to bridge the gap between them, but something in the air held him back.
“Onyx,” his father said, his voice low and strained. “You shouldn’t be in here when I’m… like this.”
Onyx’s brow furrowed. “But I want to help you. You don’t have to hide from me. I love you, Dad.”
His father flinched slightly at the words, and for a heartbeat, it seemed he was wrestling with himself. The room felt charged, almost electric, and Onyx could feel the pull of his father’s overwhelming presence, like gravity that made it hard to think or breathe.
In that moment, Onyx noticed the way his father’s body radiated heat—an undeniable aura that filled the space, a reminder that they were both omega but so vastly different in their experiences. The air grew thicker, tension lingering long after the words were spoken, and Onyx felt the instinctual urge to comfort, to soothe.
“Please,” he whispered, stepping closer still, “let me in. I can help you. I want to help you.”
His father’s hand shot out, catching Onyx’s wrist gently but firmly, a spark of connection that lit a fire in Onyx’s chest. “Onyx, you don’t understand. This heat… it’s not something I can manage, not when I’m feeling like this.”
Onyx took a deep breath, drawing on the courage from the love he had for his father. “I’m here for you. Alone or together, we can face this.”
There was a long pause, one where Onyx felt as if the world around him held its breath, waiting. Finally, his father’s expression softened just a fraction, the weight of despair still heavy—yet here was his son, offering solace amidst the storm.
“Stay with me, then,” his father said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just… don’t leave me alone.”
Onyx nodded, relief flooding him. With a small, encouraging smile, he placed the bowl of grapes on the bedside table and settled in next to his father, feeling the warmth emanating from him. Together, they sat in silence, bonded by unspoken words, both finding comfort in the presence of the other as they faced another day navigating the complexities of life, love, and loss.