But now he had to do it again, for the first time in months. And he didn’t even have his family to support him.
It didn’t help how off-balance he felt. He’d been feeling that way ever since his heat, as if the world was slightly tilted, and he wasn’t sure why. At least he had stopped feeling like jumping every alpha, which was a relief, but the suddenness of it was unsettling. Hugh had told him—messaged him—that it was a good thing, but…
Hugh.
Eric licked his lips, his face becoming warm as he thought of what had happened during his heat. Not that he remembered much. His memories of his heat were pretty hazy, the incessant need the only thing that stood out sharply—that and the sheer relief he’d felt at the end when he’d finally gotten what he’d craved.
Just the tip.
Eric’s ears turned hot. Now that his heat was over, the whole experience seemed bizarre and outlandish, like it had happened to someone else, not him. Hugh’s distant, professional messages in the last few days since the heat only made the disconnect stronger.
But he knew he hadn’t imagined it. Nor did he imagine the way Hugh held him and comforted him throughout his heat, murmuring encouragement and endearments. Baby. Sweetheart. I’ve got you.
Those memories of Hugh’s voice and the feeling of safe-comforted-protected were somehow stronger than his hazy memories of sex. They also made him acutely aware of how alone and unsafe he felt normally, so Eric tried not to dwell on them too much. He could hardly go to Hugh requesting to be held and comforted again. Hugh—Dr. Randall—was just his doctor who’d gone way out of his comfort zone to help Eric out.
Besides, in order for the imprint to fade Eric had to stay away from Hugh, so going to him was out of the question.
He still kind of wanted to talk to Hugh. Just to talk. They did need to talk about things. Doctor-patient things. It had nothing to do with Eric wanting to hear the sound of Hugh’s voice, warm, steady, and reassuring.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Lucien said, snapping him out of his thoughts.
Eric put on a smile as they entered the massive room. “Not really. But Royce says I need to go out and meet people now that I feel better. Apparently, being around other unmated alphas should help with the…” He glanced around self-consciously. There were over two hundred people at this charity gala, and every single one of them seemed to be looking in their direction, or at least it felt like it. “The imprint,” he whispered.
Lucien gave him a sympathetic look. “Try smiling more sincerely,” he said, smiling. It looked genuine enough. “I’m not happy to be here, either, but you should never show that to those people or they’ll tear you apart.”
Trying not to frown, Eric did as he was told. He knew that Lucien had had a scandal in his past, too, and one much bigger than Eric’s, so he trusted that Lucien knew what he was talking about. “It’s been decades since…” he whispered. “They can’t possibly still care about it, can they? What happened wasn’t your fault! You were the victim.”
Lucien laughed a little, but it sounded hollow. “I think I see Vagrippa,” he said, referring to Royce’s mother. “Let’s go to her.”
Eric swallowed. Royce’s mother was rather intimidating. He’d rarely interacted with her despite living in the same house for months. It helped how big the house was. “Are you sure?” he said, following Lucien reluctantly. “I don’t think she likes me.”
Smiling crookedly, Lucien said, “Don’t worry, she won’t show it in public. She hates me, but she never acts like it in front of other people. Besides, she’s too busy trying to convince Aksel to marry one of the perfect omegas and ‘exceptional betas’ she’s pushing at him.”
There was something off about his tone, but Eric couldn’t figure it out. He’d never been all that good at reading people.
True to Lucien’s words, Vagrippa Cleghorn greeted them with a kind enough smile, her expression betraying none of the faint disapproval she normally looked at Eric with. She was standing by a beta woman and a male omega about Vagrippa’s age. They both were dressed with tasteful elegance and held themselves with confidence that screamed money and power. Neither of them even glanced at Lucien.
“This is Eric Blake,” Vagrippa said to her friends, taking Eric’s arm. “The crown prince’s brother-in-law. The poor boy was the victim of slander in Pelugia, and the crown prince asked Royce to take him under his wing while he deals with this… unfortunate misunderstanding.”
Flushing in discomfort, Eric murmured a greeting. He’d expected that Vagrippa would act like the scandal didn’t exist, but he trusted her to know better than him how to navigate this society. Maybe it really was for the best to acknowledge the scandal and set the narrative they wanted.