Work Text:
“Which one looks better, you think?”
Ilya eyed the two fiddle leaf figs Yuna was pointing to. “One on left. Other one is tall but doesn’t look healthy.”
Yuna hummed, reaching out to stroke a leaf. “That’s what I thought. But maybe it just needs to be repotted.”
Ilya reached over and plucked at the price tag. “Is also ten more dollars.”
“The one on the left it is,” Yuna said. She gave Ilya a smile and a flash of warm scent that slightly soothed the gnawing feeling of anxiety inside him.
It had been five days since David had stumbled across Ilya and Shane in the cottage. Six days since Shane, his beautiful Omega, had told him he loved him, had bitten Ilya gently and then so sweetly presented his neck to be marked in return.
Shane’s parents had been lovely. Support and kindness oozed out of Yuna and David, the only worry detected when they talked about how Shane and Ilya would navigate being bonded but so far apart during the next season.
Still, Ilya felt uneasy. Yuna, David and Shane were a pack. Ilya was now Shane’s mate, but that didn’t mean he was part of the pack yet. He knew logically that it took time to build those bonds. His alpha would eventually settle as it recognized Yuna as pack leader.
But Ilya had been packless for so long. His alpha hadn’t even recognized his father as his pack leader in the end. The distance between them, both physical and emotional, had broken that bond, sending Ilya adrift. The thought of submitting to another alpha now felt unnatural, like a too-tight collar around his neck.
He knew Yuna felt it too. Could scent moments when she involuntarily bristled at the scent of another alpha on Shane. Alphas were territorial, even among their own pack. Shane was her pup, had lightly carried her and David’s scents with him for years. Now Ilya had disturbed it, mixing black tea leaves into Shane’s crisp ginger and lemon scent.
There was no solution but time and exposure. Now Ilya would need to prove that he not only knew how to take care of Shane — who would rather take a puck to the teeth than be babied, despite Ilya’s best efforts — but also that Ilya knew his place in the pack pecking order.
So when Yuna and David had invited them to the local farmers market this morning, Ilya had been the one to say they should go. (Shane had tried to tempt Ilya out of it by promising to show off his most flexible yoga moves naked. Ilya had simply tackled Shane into the nest and bent him into positions the omega hadn’t even known were possible.)
It quickly became clear that Yuna and Ilya’s idea of shopping was different from David and Shane’s. Ilya and Yuna eyed each piece of fruit carefully, looking for possible imperfections. They loudly haggled with vendors as their omegas turned bright red. When Ilya had yanked a bunch of dinosaur kale out of Shane’s basket, saying he could find better, the omega threw up his hands and took his father to find the stand that sold cheese curds.
Ilya handed Yuna their bags and scooped up the large pot. “OK, what next?”
She looked down at her handwritten list. “I think we’ve got most of it. Just need the ground beef and the chicken breasts. I usually get those at that vendor at the end.”
Ilya’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out with one hand. “Shane,” he told Yuna.
He hit the green button and tucked the phone between his shoulder and his ear, trying to balance the plant. “Did you find your curdled cheese?” he asked by way of a greeting.
“Ilya,” Shane said, and Ilya’s spine stiffened. Shane’s voice was tight and slightly muffled. “Can you guys come to the entrance?”
Ilya set down the plant on the ground with a thunk. Yuna turned to look at him. Her nose flared at the sour scent of worry coming off of him.
“What happened?” Ilya growled. Something was wrong with his omega. He could feel it in his bones.
“What’s wrong?” Yuna snapped, setting down her bags, freeing her hands.
“We’re OK,” Shane said, trying and failing to sound soothing. “There was a fight, but we’re OK.”
“Stay there,” Ilya barked. He hung up the phone. Aggression was pouring off him in waves, irritating his senses. He turned to Yuna, who was nearly vibrating with concern.
“Shane said there was fight,” he bit out. “Where is entrance?”
Instead of replying, Yuna took off like a shot, Ilya hot on her trail. The market wasn’t huge, but it was crowded. Ilya ducked and weaved behind Yuna, locked onto her as she bullied her way through the crowd.
His alpha was rioting inside him. His omega was unsafe somewhere. Yuna, his soon-to-be pack leader, was upset. His pack wasn’t secure. He needed eyes on Shane, he needed Shane in the nest, he needed to be wrapped around his omega, safe —
The two alphas pushed around one last group of slow walking women in big hats. A cop car sat at the entrance to the park. Shane and David were standing with their backs turned, talking to a police officer. Cheese curds were scattered on the ground.
“David, Shane,” Yuna barked. The two omegas turned. David’s cheek was red. Shane had a bloody napkin stuck in one nostril.
Rage. Ilya’s omega was hurt. Hurt. He was going to — He would — He couldn’t even think. He grabbed at Shane’s shirt, yanking him into his arms, nose to neck immediately.
“Shane,” was all he could grind out from between clenched teeth.
“It’s OK, I’m OK,” Shane said breathlessly as Ilya squeezed him closer.
“What happened?” Yuna demanded, hands moving David’s face left and right to catalog the bruise forming across his cheek.
David gripped her hands. “A drunk guy was harassing some girls walking by. Shane told him to stop, and he took a swing. I jumped in and got hit before security got him.”
“Excuse me,” the police officer tried to interrupt. Yuna spun around and growled. The cop stuck his hands up. “We just need to finish collecting your son’s statement.”
“I’m not — Ilya, stop, seriously,” Shane said, protesting as Ilya ran his hands up and down the omega’s body, looking for any other wounds. Besides the bloody nose, Ilya could see bruises forming under Shane’s eye and across the knuckles of his right hand. “I’m not gonna press charges.”
“Yes, you fucking will,” Ilya said darkly. Or rather, Shane wouldn’t have to. Ilya could see the man in the back seat of the cop car. If Ilya could just get the door open, he would simply remove the man’s hands and there would never be a problem again.
Ilya’s alpha protested slightly as Yuna tugged Shane away from him, turning her pup’s face like she had her omega’s.
“He’s right,” she muttered. “How do you feel, baby? Does your head hurt?”
Ilya reached out a hand and grabbed David’s shoulder, pulling the older man away from the cop. The older omega sputtered as Ilya looked him up and down. They weren’t pack yet, Ilya knew that. But his instincts were on high alert. He trusted Yuna to protect Shane, and in turn, he would protect her omega, too.
Yuna was nearly choking all of them with her scent. The pack leader’s worry mixed with Ilya’s anger. Mine, ours, it warned.
“Mom!” Shane whined, pushing her hands away. “I’m not gonna send some guy to jail just because he wasted.”
“He hurt you,” Ilya snarled, and Yuna nodded in agreement. Ilya tugged David closer to his son, herding them together.
“I’ve gotten punched harder playing,” Shane protested. “Really, it’s fine. My nose isn’t even broken.”
But that was hockey, Ilya thought, and even if that still made Ilya’s instincts run wild, that was different. If Shane got punched in hockey, he was still wearing a helmet and pads and a mouth guard. There were teammates on the ice who could jump in and defend him.
But out here, there was no helmet, no mouth guard, no giant defender to protect Shane. There was Ilya, and he hadn’t been here. He had failed his omega already, and they hadn’t even been mated a week.
“Maybe we should take a beat and head back home,” David suggested, putting a hand on Ilya’s shoulder. The touch was grounding, halting the stench of misery that had started to leach from the Russian man. “We don’t have to make any decisions right now.”
“Could I call the station and give my statement that way?” Shane asked.
Yuna whipped out her phone and wrote down the number the cop rattled off, demanding his name and badge number as well.
“Let’s go,” she ordered.
The group took off through the parking lot in a diamond formation: Yuna at the front, oozing protective pheromones; David and Shane, side by side, both beet red with embarrassment; and Ilya at the back, eyes scouting for any other possible threats lurking among the sensible sedans.
When they got to the car, Yuna grabbed her husband’s hand and slid into the back with him. Ilya tucked Shane into the front passenger seat and fastened his seatbelt, much to Shane’s chagrin. He let Shane plug in the directions to the cottage as he got in the driver’s seat and then slid his hand behind the omega’s neck, holding him securely.
They had carpooled together from the cottage, and David had been the one to drive them. But now it was Ilya’s responsibility to get them home safely. He drove exactly the speed limit, no more, no less.
“You could go a little faster, you know,” Shane groused as another car honked and then sped around them. “I’d like to make it home before the end of the week.” He cracked the window to let out some of the oppressive scent of alpha anxiety filling the car.
Ilya huffed and threaded his fingers into Shane’s hair. He couldn’t quite speak yet, thoughts darting between English and Russian.
A slender hand holding a wet wipe shoved its way between Shane’s head cushion and the window. “Wipe your nose, honey,” Yuna commanded, voice stoney. Shane did as he was told and pulled out the bloody napkin stuffed in his nose. Ilya gripped the steering wheel harder, pleather creaking under his hand.
“Well, since we didn’t end up getting groceries, what should we do for dinner tonight?” David asked loudly, sending out a puff of calming jasmine scent. Yuna still hadn’t let go of his hand. She reached out between the seat and the door again and laid her hand on the curve of Shane’s elbow. Not gripping, just making sure her mate and pup were both within reach.
Shane turned his head and craned his neck to look at his father over Ilya’s arm. “I think I still have some steaks in the freezer, but I’m not sure if it’s enough for all of us,” he mused, pushing out a wave of refreshing ginger and lemon. “Or I have a lot of canned stuff we could use up. It’s hot out, but I could make some chili?”
The Hollander omegas were about as subtle as a sledgehammer. Their combined scents and easy conversation helped ease the tension in the car a bit, but not much.
Ilya knew on some level that he was overreacting. Shane was safe. He could hold his own, had held it for years as one of the few omegas in the MLH. The only people who assumed Shane Hollander was weak were the ones who had never lined up across from him in a face-off just to have their ass and a few loose teeth handed to them.
It was Ilya’s alpha that was the problem. His and Shane’s mating bond was new, and the delicate pack bond was still building gentle tendrils between himself and Shane’s parents.
The pack was at the vulnerable stage of expansion, and someone had attacked it. Yuna was pack leader, and Ilya hadn’t shown her that she could trust him to protect Shane, protect the pack. He should have followed them to get cheese curds, should have teased Shane less about eating curdled cheese so they had never gone at all.
The drive was mostly silent, minus Shane’s chirping about Ilya’s driving. Finally, they pulled up the long drive to the cottage. The sight of it made some of the tension melt from Ilya’s shoulders. He could feel Shane’s neck relax as well beneath his palm.
Ilya swallowed a wave of guilt. His omega had been hurt, and Ilya’s worry was causing him stress. He needed to reign himself in. The last time he had felt this wild was three months ago, watching the medics roll Shane’s stretcher off the ice. It’d taken days for Ilya to feel settled again.
They hadn’t been mated then, but Ilya had known it was his omega who was hurt. Because Shane had always been his, from the moment he’d awkwardly sidled up to Ilya in Regina, freckled face flushed from the cold and ginger-lemon scent floating on the breeze, just to tell him where he couldn’t smoke.
He’d been Ilya’s in the quiet, warm nest in Montreal, Ilya’s on the sofa of the Boston den, Ilya’s in the warm Florida sun and the cold Moscow night.
“Mate me,” Shane had whispered to him six nights ago under the golden lamplight, and then Ilya had become Shane’s, too.
He had thought he knew true happiness when he won his first Cup. But he knew now that happiness was waking in Shane’s arms, pressing his ear to his chest and hearing his mate’s strong heart that only beat for him. Happiness sounded like Shane’s sighs and laughs and moans, and it tasted like ginger ale.
I will not lose this, Ilya thought, maybe his first lucid thought since he’d answered Shane’s call. I won’t survive losing this, not again.
Ilya turned off the car and reached over to unbuckle Shane’s seatbelt. His mate lightly batted away his hands, grumbling. It was a sign that Shane knew how upset he was, how upset his mother was, that he didn’t fight too terribly hard as they herded the two omegas inside.
“I’ll get the first aid kit,” Yuna said, keeping one hand knotted in the hem of David’s shirt so he couldn’t get too far. “Ilya, can you set the alarm?”
Yes, yes, someone who made sense. Who understood the stakes, even as Shane whined that it wasn’t necessary. Ilya started with the front door, then worked his way around the house, checking the back door, the patio, the window locks. He set the security system and then set it again. He thought about closing all of the drapes, then decided against it. If something was coming, he needed to be able to see it.
“Where is Shane?” Ilya demanded as he returned to the kitchen, his voice raspy from disuse. Yuna was gently pressing an ice pack wrapped in a towel onto David’s cheek.
“The bathroom,” David said, and Yuna looked as unhappy about letting Shane out of her sight as Ilya felt.
“I’m sorry I didn’t want an audience watching me pee,” Shane said from behind Ilya, reaching out to run his hand over the alpha’s shoulders. Ilya pulled him closer, gripping Shane’s jaw lightly to look him over. The redness had gone down, but the bruise under his eye was growing darker, swallowing up a gorgeous patch of freckles.
“Am I still pretty?” Shane joked softly, running his hands up and down on Ilya’s back.
“You will do,” Ilya said, squishing Shane’s cheeks so his mouth puckered up and he could plant a soft kiss on his lips. He’d show the omega how pretty he thought he was later, but for now —
“Blankets are in the basket,” Yuna said, half guiding, half shoving the three men down the stairs into the living room. “I’ll get food.”
Ilya gently pushed David and Shane down into the middle of the couch. As he plucked several afghans from the basket near the fireplace, he heard Shane mutter quietly, “This is ridiculous.”
“Just humor them,” David said softly, patting Shane’s leg. Ilya draped one blanket across both of their laps. Another behind their shoulders. “Alphas are sensitive to change. And there’s been a lot of change for everyone these past few days. They’re unsettled.”
“They’re nuts,” Shane said, only it came out muffled as Ilya pulled another blanket up to his nose. “It’s July, Ilya. I’m not cold.”
“You could go into shock any moment,” Ilya pointed out as he tucked a quilt around David. “Must stay warm.”
“I’m not going into shock over a nosebleed, I promise.”
Yuna rushed back down the stairs, carrying a tray of fruit, cheese and drinks. She set it down on the coffee table with a thunk. “Shane, I really think we should call Dr. Robinson to make sure your head is still alright. Do you have a headache?” Ilya nodded in agreement and shoved a pillow behind Shane’s neck.
“I didn’t have one until you started talking,” Shane snarked, tucked deep into the couch. “Ilya, seriously, stop it.”
“OK, let me call him and see what he says. I have his personal cell —“
“Mom, I’m fine.”
“And I’m sure he will get us in even though it’s a Sunday —“
“Mom, please.”
“I’m not sure how hard he hit you, but we should at least —“
“Yuna,” David said, voice like ice.
Ilya’s stomach dropped. It had been years since he’s heard a mate command like that. It was a primal ability, used to momentarily stop one’s mate in their tracks and, ideally, protect them from harm.
His father had been a fan, and even though Ilya knew that David Hollander was nothing like his father, it still made Ilya feel like a scared pup. He shifted to hover over Shane, who also looked taken aback.
Yuna looked up, and Ilya saw everything in her eyes. The fear that her pack had been hurt, the shame she hadn’t protected them, the wild urge to keep them in this safe den forever.
“I just,” she stuttered. “I just need —“
“It’s OK,” David said, calm as the water in the lake outside. “We’re all alright.”
Yuna stared for a moment, then let out an aborted, “Just let me.” She leaned over David, curling her hands into fists and rubbing the insides of her wrists against the sides of her mate’s neck. She did the same to Shane, and when she came to Ilya, she shoved him down on the couch and did it to him, too.
It had been years since a pack leader had scented Ilya. He had forgotten the feeling of utter calm and clarity, the wave of safety crashing over him.
This wasn’t the collar of his father, pulled taut around his neck. It was the warm embrace of a mother. Not his mama, but close.
Ilya’s body went lax, and he let out a low whimper. Shane reached out from the cocoon of blankets and grabbed his hand.
Yuna grabbed the top of Ilya’s head and smacked a kiss on top of it. She pulled back, looking almost shocked at herself. Then she went down the line again, kissing Shane’s head and then David’s. Somewhat settled, she tucked herself into David’s side, pulling an afghan to cover both of them.
“OK,” she huffed.
“OK?” David asked.
“OK,” she repeated and reached for the remote.
They all sat there in stunned silence, watching the MHL channel’s inane off-season programing. Ilya pulled Shane so he was lying halfway across his lap, keeping his nose tucked into his omega’s neck. It was grounding, sitting here with the pack, omega in his arms. Ilya could sense his mind returning to him, his jaw unclenching, his scent calming.
Shane rolled over a bit to look at him. “Feeling better?” he asked cautiously, trying to keep from looking too concerned and setting Ilya off again.
His perfect omega. So sweet and kind. “Yes, lyubimyy.”
“I love you.”
“Ya tebya lyublu. I’m sorry if I worried you.”
“It’s OK,” Shane said, turning back to the TV. “It was kinda hot.”
Ilya snorted. David chortled. Yuna said “Eww,” and turned the volume up.
After an hour, Yuna finally stood up. The spell was broken. “You said you had stuff to make chili, right?”
Shane commandeered making dinner, eager to do something after an hour he could have spent doing God knows what boring thing. Probably organizing his sock drawer. Ilya pressed a kiss to his omega’s cheek and headed out to the patio to look at the sunset.
After five minutes, the door slid open and closed behind him. “You smoke, right?” Yuna asked.
They ended up at the end of the dock, passing a cigarette back and forth as they watched a family of loons circle each other in the sky.
“I haven’t freaked out like that in years,” Yuna said, wrapping her arms around herself.
Ilya exhaled and handed the cigarette back over. “Was not that bad. Shane is dramatic.”
“I was always territorial, even when I was a pup,” Yuna said, taking a drag. “I had a therapist tell me it was because we immigrated when I was so young. I felt… unmoored.”
Ilya didn’t know what that word meant exactly, but he understood the meaning in her voice.
“I struggled with it for a long time,” she continued, passing the cigarette back. “When I met David, it felt like he was my anchor. But then I would get paranoid that someone would take him from me.”
Ilya thought about Rose Landry, about her hands on Shane’s body under flashing pink lights. The copper taste of blood on his tongue from gnashing his teeth. He blew out a stream of smoke.
“We tried so hard to have a baby. When Shane was born, I didn’t want anyone to even look at him and David for weeks.”
Ilya understood. He didn’t want anyone to look at Shane now.
“And then he started hockey, and I had to realize that I couldn’t stop him from getting hurt, no matter how hard I tried. I couldn’t snap at a 7-year-old. So I went to therapy, got it under control. But today…”
“Things are different now,” Ilya said, offering her the cigarette again. “I am here. It upsets you.”
“No.” Yuna shook her head. “You don’t upset me, sweetheart.” She took another drag, her brow crinkled in thought.
“I was worried that you thought I couldn’t protect them,” she said finally. “And that I couldn’t protect you.”
Ilya’s eyes burned. He rubbed at his nose. “I do not think that.”
“I get the sense that you’ve been alone for a long time.”
“You are not wrong,” Ilya said, eyes glued to the water. “My mother died long time ago, and my father died in the spring. My brother… we are not close. But I have a friend in Boston, Svetlana. We are not pack, but close enough.”
“So you don’t have a pack at all?” Yuna asked softly. She threw the cigarette butt on the deck and crushed it under her shoe.
“No, not since my mother died,” Ilya admitted flatly. “My father was a bully. Liked to throw commands around. Was easier to be alone. Until Shane.”
He snuck a look at Yuna. Her face was blessedly blank, no trace of judgement or pity.
“Shane is all I have now,” he said. “Today was my fault.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Yuna protested.
“I should have been there,” Ilya continued. Because he should have been, should have never taken his eyes off Shane. It would haunt him until the day he died. “And I want you to know that I will always protect him. Protect your pack. It will never happen again.”
“Ilya,” Yuna said sharply. “Look at me.”
He turned. For such a small woman, she radiated authority.
“Today was not your fault, sweetheart,” Yuna said firmly. “It was nobody’s fault except that drunk asshole’s. Am I clear?”
Ilya nodded. Maintaining eye contact with a pack leader was difficult. He wanted to stare at his feet, get on his knees and present his neck for her to scruff.
“Do you know what I was thinking today?” Yuna asked. “I was thinking, ‘Thank God Ilya’s here. Finally, there’s someone else who understands how precious they are. Someone else who can help me keep them safe.’”
Ilya’s eyes welled up.
He had never been trusted like this, trusted to have something special and trusted to keep it. It had always been kept out of reach.
Now it felt like he could hold it gently in his hands like a delicate bird, careful not to squeeze.
A family. A home.
“Always,” he vowed. “I will always keep them safe.”
Yuna reached up and brushed some hair off his forehead.
“This is pretty new to all of us,” she said. “But I think this could be something really special. If you’ll have us.”
Ilya would. Of course he would.