Damon got another call from his mother the next day.

"Sweetie, you have to tell me what happened," she said, in that mom voice that said she was expecting Damon to throw a tantrum. "The Reynes are less upset. They said they'd like you to come over for a bit. Just to talk. They've had time to cool down, and Hailey said she may have jumped the gun and acted without thinking. So no apology. They just want to discuss what happened. But honestly, dear, I'd like to know what could have happened to start all this drama."

Damon sighed, drooping into the couch. He had just gotten back from the pack office – where he and the main pack accountant worked – and his head was swimming with numbers. It was a lot of spreadsheets. Spreadsheets and calculators and writing expense reports. It was tedious work to most, but Damon found the monotony strangely calming. His brain was usually always on overdrive, so to put it to work with math, something that always had a single answer, was usually a good way to silence his overthinking.

Except today. Today all he could think about was Jun. His head was filled with a constant loop of replays from the other night, which, infuriatingly, made it hard to focus on numbers. It didn't help that Jun had sent him several pictures of food he'd made – with no caption, because Jun didn't text – and in each one Damon could see part of his hand, or maybe a leg if the angle was right, and then he was sent into a spiral of Jun Jun Jun.

About the not-texting thing – Jun could do it, if he focused. But his hands were big. The phone was small. And he easily became frustrated with trying to type and fighting autocorrect. Jun was not an easily frustrated person, but texting was just one of those things for him.

But Jun, sweet boy Jun, still wanted Damon to know he was thinking about him, and made sure to at least send pictures throughout the day. Usually food. Because Jun was particularly proud of his cooking skills (and he should be), and he wanted to show Damon his prowess in that area. Sometimes he would send a picture of a book he was reading, though with his heat he was less able to focus on books. Even more rarely, he would send pictures of himself, but only if he wanted to communicate an emotion to Damon without typing it out. So occasionally Damon would receive pictures of Jun's face, but with his eyebrows slightly lifted – meaning he was happy – or one with the corners of his mouth a little pinched – meaning he was upset.

Yeah...Mark had once seen a couple of these and asked Damon why Jun sent him two identical pictures, leading Damon to have to explain that no, no, they're not identical. You're just not looking hard enough.

Anyway, Damon was tired, from not being able to focus on his work the whole day due to a certain alpha. So he didn't particularly want to have this conversation with his mother.

But he really should tell her. His mom might value her friendship with the Reynes, but Damon knew she valued him a lot more. And if Damon said Malachi was being an asshole, she wouldn't side with them.

So he told her, leaving nothing out. And at the end, she heaved a long sigh.

"I thought it might be something like that," she said, weary. "Hailey did mention that Malachi was being a bit forward, which is why she called me back and said she just wanted to talk. I know you're not at fault, honey. But I can see their side of it too."

Damon was, understandably, taken aback. "Their side?" he said incredulously. "Their side is that their son harassed me and propositioned me while I'm in a courtship. End of story. There's no gray area there."

"I know that, and I'm not saying you should forgive them," she said gently. "But I know the Reynes. They want what's best for their son, just like I want the best for you. And it might be news to you, dear, but you are the best thing for their son."

Damon wasn't quite following the conversation. He moved out of his slouch, shoulders tensing up as he prepared himself for a fight. "Yeah, maybe when we first got together. And then he broke up with me, cruelly. Even if they think I'm good for their son, he's not good for me, and they've long lost any right to ask me to sacrifice anything for him."

"Have you ever talked to Malachi about the circumstances of your breakup?" his mother asked. Damon was starting to see red. "It might not be as simple as you think. And did you know, you were the longest relationship Malachi ever had. Hailey said he moped for days after you left for school."

"I don't know what could be more simple than the fact that he cheated on me – and intentionally made me witness it. I'm not surprised I'm his longest relationship – he has the attention span of a dead gnat. And if he moped, I'm more than sure it had nothing to do with me. The bottom line is that I don't want to be with him. Ever." Damon inhaled deeply, trying to calm down. Yelling at his mother only made her more stubborn. "Besides," he mumbled, "I have someone better now."

His mother was silent for a moment, which Damon took to mean she was conceding his point – but that was very much not the case.

"Are you going to accept his courtship?" she asked, voice steady, but as if she were forcing it to be so, covering up a tremor. "That other boy?"

Now it was Damon's turn to be silent. "Maybe," he admitted finally. It was as much news to her as it was to him, but when he searched within himself, he knew without a doubt that he would rather be mated with Jun despite all the uncertainties of his background than to go back to Malachi. "I really like him."

Again, silence on the other end of the line. Then, "He's an alpha. He must be in heat now, yes? How is he handling it by himself?"

Okay...kind of weird for his mom to ask that. "He's handling it fine, but he's not by himself. Why do you ask?"

"What do you mean he's not by himself?" she asked, this time a note of hysteria in her voice. "You're not – you didn't agree to be his heat partner, did you Damon?"

Seriously, what the hell was up? He could see why his mother might be wary of her son being tied to an alpha in heat, but she'd never sounded so panicked before. Damon was twenty-six goddamn years old. Plenty old enough to make decisions about who he slept with. When he'd told her he slept with Malachi, she'd barely batted an eyelash.

"And what if I did?" Damon said, casually.

She sucked in a sharp breath on the other end of the line. "Have you signed the papers yet?"

"Not yet, but – "

"Good," she said, "don't sign them. I mean it Damon. You can't. Not with him."

"...And why not with him?"

Then they were in silence again. Damon was ready to just hang up. Why his mother was so fixated on Jun, he didn't know, and wasn't sure he wanted to know. Just before he worked up the guts to end the call, she responded.

"He's not meant for you."