Eccentric ✓

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

The wind felt fantastic running through Bill's fur as his wolf bounded across the preserve built and connected to the precinct. It had been too long since he'd last let his wolf loose, and with all the things going on in his life at the moment, he really needed the break. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, paws digging into the soft soil and tail wagging with pleasure from the much needed freedom.

Bill missed his father.

Because he'd grown up closer to his mother, he'd assumed – wrongly – that she'd be more understanding of his gender confusion. She hadn't. Instead, she'd – in a cruelly manipulative way – tried to make it seem like he was crazy and it was his own damn fault.

His father noticed his depression when he finally presented that year. Mother had been so happy – they both had – but father was the one who'd seen how dejected and withdrawn Bill became.

It had all come pouring out the second the man asked him what was wrong, the tenderness in his voice and the calm in his scent cracking Bill right open.

"Oh," he'd said, hand stroking over Bill's forehead. His expression had been carefully neutral, nothing sour in his scent at all.

Bill had felt a little hopeful. "I'm...I'm weird, aren't I? For wanting to be an omega," he'd asked tearfully. "I'm a freak."

"Hey now, we don't use that kind of language in this house," his father had scolded. And then he'd smiled, running his fingers through Bill's hair and nearly making him purr. "I wouldn't say you're weird either. More like...eccentric."

Bill had immediately liked the word. It sounded cool and grown-up. "E-Eccentric? What does that mean?"

"It just means you're you – not like anybody else. Just...uniquely and perfectly you."

Bill's heart had swelled about ten sizes. Just when he'd started secretly accepting himself, holding a hope that one day he could be the omega he knew he was, emboldened by his father's tentative support, the world decided Bill didn't deserve nice things, and ripped his father away from him.

His mother was...well. There was a reason he didn't speak to her anymore.

He wished his father were here so badly. The man would have known exactly what to say to him on what to do with regards to his relationship with Oliver.

Gods, Oliver wanted them to bond. Bonding was for life. No other alpha had ever wanted to bond with him before. It made Bill feel excited, nervous, and terrified in equal measure. Just thinking about Oliver, vulnerable in his arms with the enticing scent of his gland rising around them had Bill's wolf wanting to tear out of the preserve and find the other alpha so it could sink its fangs into Oliver's throat and mark him as theirs. It wanted the whole fucking world to know who Oliver – their perfect, wonderful alpha – belonged to.

His fur stood on end at the thought, a low mix of arousal and possessiveness rushing through the heat in his blood.

The heat was immediately quenched when he remembered he still hadn't told Oliver about his true gender, not the gender the world had forced upon him because of certain traits he happened to possess.

What if telling Oliver ruined everything? Just because the other alpha wanted to bond didn't mean his feelings would suddenly be unconditional. The wolf whined in distress.

Bill's nostrils flared when he realised there was another wolf in the preserve. The scent of thick spices, and the sight of sleek, grey fur running a few metres ahead of him told him it was Dallas. Something about the way the other wolf was running, muscles tense and legs pounding against the grassy floor, told Bill something was wrong.