Chapter 4: Susceptible period?

“Amelia, you—” August stepped out from the kitchen, his face lighting up with joy.

But the smile faltered immediately when he saw Amelia with her hand raised mid-air.

“Grandpa, I’m back,” she said smoothly, lowering her arm before striding over in two quick steps to give him a hug.

August returned the hug tightly and whispered near her ear, “You didn’t hit him, did you?”

“Hit who?” she replied innocently.

“Liam.” August didn’t loosen his hold, so Liam wouldn’t hear.

Amelia gave a soft laugh. “Nope. I’m just worried he’ll play the victim.”

She quickly took a step back and said with a grin, “Grandpa, I brought someone with me.”

The moment she said that, Liam—seated nearby—was the first to react.

His eyes were wide and glistening, full of a soft, almost wounded expression. Even with his usual cold demeanor, the slight droop at the corners of his eyes made him look heartbreakingly delicate.

When Amelia turned to call for Maverick, her gaze briefly met Liam’s—and even though she hadn’t done anything wrong, she felt a pang of guilt, like she’d betrayed him somehow.

He just looked at her, quiet and pitiful, and it was like her thoughts got snagged and pulled toward him, as easily as threads under a fingernail.

“Captain!” Maverick’s clear voice broke through the haze.

Shaking herself free from the moment, Amelia turned and introduced him.

“Grandpa August, this is Maverick. He’s the newest member of my special ops team.”

The young man stood stiffly, back straight and voice crisp. Amelia walked over and dropped a casual hand on his shoulder.

“Relax. You’re on vacation now,” she muttered to him in a low voice. Then added under her breath, “Don’t talk about the military at home.”

Maverick turned slightly and whispered back, mimicking her tone, “Not even a little?”

Before Amelia could nod, August called out from the couch, voice sharp with concern, “Liam? What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

Amelia immediately crossed the room, dropping to a squat in front of Liam’s wheelchair. She reached out to tug the blanket from his clenched hands—his fingers were ice-cold and clammy.

“Liam? Can you hear me?”

His eyes—normally icy and distant—were now glossed over, like glass ready to crack.

She leaned in closer, scanning his face for signs of pain.

Then Liam reached out and gently took her hand, his fingers still trembling slightly. A faint smile curved his lips, and he whispered hoarsely, “Did I scare you?”

His voice was too soft. Amelia leaned in even more. “What was that? Don’t worry—the doctor’s already on the way. You’re gonna be fine.”

Her voice was steady, warm. It’s okay—just two words, but they reverberated in Liam’s chest like a gunshot.

“Amelia.” He looked directly into her eyes. “Did I scare you just now?”

She’d heard others say her name before. Countless times. But this time… it landed different.

“No,” she answered simply.

She moved to pull her hand back, but he didn’t let go. Before she could speak again, the words tumbled out on instinct: “Do you want me to carry you to the guest room to rest?”

The living room went dead silent.

Everyone froze—including the two young men who had just walked in.

One of them, an alpha with a sharp face and gold-rimmed glasses, blinked and calmly adjusted his frames. Without missing a beat, he turned to his companion.

“I win. You cover the whole bill tonight.”

He removed his glasses, smirking as he hooked one of the arms over his finger. Then he strolled into the room like he owned it.

“Good to see you, Grandpa August,” he greeted, voice smooth and urbane.

August lit up. He stood and clapped the alpha on the arm fondly. “I knew you two would come by. I had the kitchen prepare your favorites. Eat up—you're both skin and bones.”

The alpha beside him slung an arm around his shoulders. “It’s his fault, Grandpa. He hasn’t been eating properly since he started that new drama. Said he had to stay in character.”

August frowned. “He’s not eating? Doesn’t Carter care?”

“Oh, Carter’s furious,” the alpha replied with a grin. “But he keeps using me as an excuse and hiding at my place. Grandpa Carter couldn’t track him down for days.”

“If you say one more word,” the man in the glasses interrupted coolly, “I swear I’ll starve myself to death and leave a note blaming you for everything.”

He elbowed his friend hard in the gut.

The living room burst into laughter and chatter, filling the house with warmth and noise.

.....

Liam looked up at Amelia, who was standing by the door, speaking with the doctor in a low, focused voice. She stood with her back lit by the hallway lights, calm and radiant—like sunlight warming a place he thought had long gone cold. And in this moment, that light felt like it belonged to him alone.

They’d moved him to the guest room after the episode. His color had improved, but the doctor insisted on a basic check-up, just to be safe.

Amelia stood outside the guest room door, arms crossed, when she felt something settle lightly on her shoulder. A voice followed, teasing and low: “Kitten, you’re looking a little worried.”

Her brow furrowed. “Kitten? What the hell kind of game are you and Tyson playing now?”

“It’s not Tyson,” the voice said smoothly, “It’s all about you.”

Charles’s hand moved from her shoulder, fingers curling a loose strand of her hair, absently twirling it around his fingertips. The scent of faint antiseptic clung to him, unmistakable.

She narrowed her eyes. “You shot up again, didn’t you?”

He didn’t deny it. “Yeah. One dose lasts about six months now.”

“Charles,” Amelia snapped, her voice dropping as her expression sharpened, “I asked the military doctors before I came back. They told me—”

“I know,” he interrupted. His hand slipped away, and he leaned lazily against the hallway wall. “It’ll destroy the glands. The longer I keep this up, the worse it gets.”

He laughed softly. “But honestly? I’m not scared. I like the way things are now.”

“Charles!”

He gave her a look, then casually shifted a step further down the wall, away from her frustration. “I just said you were turning into a sweet little kitten, and now look—you’re a tiger again. Is it because your fiancé’s not here?”

Amelia rolled her eyes and took a step toward him, “What the hell does this have to do with Liam—”

“Are you talking about me?” The low, even voice came from behind them.

The guest room door had creaked open. Liam sat in his wheelchair, framed by the doorway. His gaze didn’t move—he was looking only at her.

Amelia immediately turned and walked toward him, her boots quiet on the tile. She glanced at the doctor who stood behind the chair.

“How is he?” she asked.

“He’s fine, but…” the doctor started, only to be cut off.

“My susceptible period is starting,” Liam said calmly, turning his head to look up at her.

Amelia didn’t miss a beat. “Okay, what do we do?”

“Nothing,” Liam replied with a small shake of the head. “It passes.”

The doctor coughed lightly. “Actually, your pheromone compatibility is around 85%, isn’t it?”

“Eighty-seven,” Amelia corrected without hesitation. “So?”

“Well…” The doctor adjusted his collar. “That’s very high compatibility. During an alpha’s susceptible period, having a matched omega nearby can help regulate the symptoms. Physical proximity—pheromone contact, even light touch—can be effective in relieving discomfort.”

Amelia stared blankly for a moment. She’d gone straight into military service at eighteen and barely had time to sleep, let alone understand the details of susceptible periods or heat cycles. Her knowledge came from medical briefs and fieldwork, not textbook intimacy.

“Can’t take another inhibitor?”

The doctor looked uncomfortable. “No. I examined his glands earlier. That wouldn’t be recommended at this stage—”

“I’ll explain it to her later,” Liam cut in smoothly.

He dropped his gaze, then glanced at her hand—still resting near the side of his chair. He reached out and gently hooked his little finger around hers.

“I feel a bit tired,” he murmured. “Would you mind telling Grandpa August I’m okay?”

The soft touch of his finger startled her, but she didn’t pull away. And Liam noticed.

“I’ll let him know,” she said after a beat. “The guest room next door is already made up for you. I can walk you there.”

“No need,” Liam said quietly.

He glanced down at their still-touching fingers, and slowly, deliberately let go. Then he pressed the button on his wheelchair and glided toward the room across the hall.

There was something different in his face—some subtle shift. The usual cold reserve had melted slightly. His dark eyes curved at the corners, softened with a rare warmth.

It was obvious from the quiet lift of his expression—he was smiling. Because she hadn’t pulled away.

As Liam’s wheelchair disappeared around the corner, Amelia found herself staring after him longer than she intended. There was something quiet and vulnerable about his back.

Charles, who had been silently watching her from the side, raised a hand and waved it in front of her face. “He’s gone. Still stand here like a love-struck schoolgirl?”

Amelia swatted his hand away. “Did you hear what I said earlier?”

“I heard everything,” Charles said, still grinning.

She glanced sideways at him. “And?”

“You’re so compatible,” he said, dragging the words out. “What do you want me to say? Should I act shocked? Want me to do a dramatic performance? I’ll do it for free—consider it a gift from your favorite award-winning actor.”

She rolled her eyes and turned to the doctor. “Ignore him. Let’s go.”

But Charles wasn’t about to let her escape that easily. Still caught up in his own antics, he chased after her with exaggerated steps. The two of them dashed through the hall like bickering siblings, until Amelia ducked behind a chair in the living room and shouted over her shoulder:

“Tyson, come get your man! If I smack him too hard and damage that pretty face, don’t expect me to pay for it!”

Tyson, who was seated nearby chatting with August, stood up with a laugh. “No can do. I just landed him a lead role in a new film—I need him intact. Come here, sweetheart.” He intercepted Charles mid-stride and gently wrapped an arm around him. “You’re not going to catch her. She’s been training with the military every day. Sit down and give that pretty face a break.”

Charles allowed himself to be pulled onto the sofa with a dramatic sigh.

On the other side of the room, August waved Amelia over. She flopped down next to him and he gave her a warm look before asking, “How’s Liam?”

Amelia gave him a quick summary of what the doctor had said.

“That boy… He’s been through more than most,” August said softly. “You two have to take care of each other now.”

Hearing this, Amelia suddenly remembered something. “Grandpa—when’s the engagement supposed to be again?”

“In less than a month,” August said, lightly tapping her forehead. “Don’t tell me you forgot, or didn’t take it seriously?”

The gesture made her smile. He used to do that when she was little—always gentle, even when she’d come home bruised from scrapping with the alpha boys at school. He was the one who stood behind her when everyone else said she didn’t belong in the military. Even when she left for the front lines, he tapped her forehead and said:

“The road ahead will be hard. But I’ll always be behind you. Go do what you want—I’ll be waiting here.”