Day.
Travis pushes the weights upwards, muscles ripping.
Day is alive.
Alive and well, walking, talking, and, in his city.
Sweat is dripping down his body, glistening on his skin as he exerts himself, pushing himself harder, the weight in his arms looking like it weighs nothing. Nothing can conquer his mind right now.
Certainly not the physical limitations.
Unless they come in the name and shape of his dead mate being alive, then nothing else can.
With a sharp exhale, he slots the weights on the bar and sits up, breathing hard.
Everything stopped being disorienting when he realized that his mind wasn't playing tricks on him, and it's true that day, his long-lost mate was alive and kicking. What's worse is the confusion that was on his face when he was looking at Travis.
It made his gut drop.
Travis knows his days of normal thinking capacity and a healthy mind are long gone. It's been years, and he has only gone down the rail, with never the hope of ever finding salvation.
The only salvation he was looking forward to was death, where he would be reunited with his mate.
At first, he didn't know what to think. The boy he had been obsessed with since day one was right in front of him, and he looked even better than he remembered. He was confused, but mostly, he didn't know what to think or do.
Something that never happens to him, ever.
When he snapped out of it, a different sort of rage filled him. His wolf has been thrashing to go get their mate, and normally, he and Travis are one entity.
He has been the one keeping Travis in check, even as his madness has been getting worse. They are one; they are damaged equally.
But this one has started to feel like waging war against oneself.
Travis stands up, walks to the rack of towels and grabs one, and starts to towel himself dry. It's nighttime, and he cannot do anything else until everything has been confirmed.
He puts on the hoodie he had on, as he starts walking up the stairs. By the time he reaches the living room, his mind is set. His wolf is quiet, focused, and he knows that he will not be swayed an inch. His mind is set.
He doesn't take a car, opting for his bike. It's 3 am, and the roads are almost clear of any cars.
Going to the other side of the city takes him less than 30 minutes by his bike. It takes less than 10 minutes to break inside the Savitt property and get inside, the useless guards who are dozing by the doors not even catching a whiff of him.
Fewer than ten people are living in the building, and it takes another ten minutes for Travis before he is standing outside the balcony of a certain day savitt.
It's dead silent, almost ominous. The sliding doors are open, like someone was outside and forgot to lock up well. Easier for him to get in and be one with the shadows as he takes everything in.
The apartment is on the minimalistic side, but that should be because most of the boxes are still unopened.
Wet clothes are strewn on the bathroom on the lower level, and Travis doesn't hesitate to pick them up and give them a sniff.
There it is again. That faint jasmine scent. Impossible for a normal person to pick on it, but Travis is well attuned to everything day. Crimson eyes look at the stairs and the soft light coming up from the single door upstairs.
Someone is up.
The alpha doesn't detect any other scent in the apartment, save for the nocturne flower. His feet are light and soundless as he makes is way up, still shrouded in the darkness and the hoodie, hiding his face, shrouded in the dark.
At the back of his mind, Travis gets concerned about how easy all this is. If it's day, his day, he will have to think about making sure he is more secure.
But for now, he pushes the door once he hears that gentle sounds coming from the inner chambers, and no one is in the near vicinity.
It hits him right in his face.
He has to curb the growl that almost rips out of his chest when the scent of an omega in heat hits him and fills all his senses.
It's so potent, so heavy that he can taste it on his tongue, that he starts to shake, physically holding himself back from clawing his way to the omega and having him.
It would explain why he can smell him when he has been trying to hide his scent so much. When Travis smelt day's scent, it was so faint and chemically hidden, he could smell the medicinal waft coming off him too.
It's not uncommon for omegas and alphas to hide their scents.
Travis looks at the room, suddenly aware that he is entering an omega's nest without their consent, which is bad.
Alphas are unwelcome, and while that normally means their actual bed nests, which he sees that day has set up lots of pillows and soft-looking blankets, it constitutes his bedroom since he is trespassing.
He is going insane.
Day is having a bath. The door to the master bath is open. And he can see everything in the reflection off the mirror that's right at the right corner of the big bed. Looks like he is soaking, because day's eyes are closed and he is sighing once in a while.
He must be in pain.
Travis doesn't understand.
His bond should be flaring right about now, snapping back because of how close they are. Something he noticed that didn't happen even back in the bakery. And yet, there is nothing.
None of this makes sense.
If he is at his peak heat, why is he this … sane? Why is he smelling more medicinal here than his … scent?
His bedroom is wafting omega pheromones more than he is right now. The boy in the tub looks like day. Everything he can see, despite being obscured by the large tub, is all day.
But at the same time, it's not.
It is taking everything in him not to walk closer, because of how hypnotic the scent is making him. It makes him want to ease his omega's heat, keep him feeling good, and keep him safe, when all of a sudden, the water splashes and the boy in the tub stands up.
Facing him.
It takes a second for Travis to understand what he is seeing, and when he does, he can't stop it. A growl reverberates from him, resounding in the room that it startles the boy so much that Travis hears his gasp so clearly.
Day's head whips to where he is standing, but not fast enough. Travis has already slipped past the door, hiding further as day's distress pheromones start wafting in the air.
As the boy reaches for the robe on the edge of the tub, Travis sees the most important thing before he leaves the bedroom and goes downstairs.
Day doesn't scream; instead, his naked feet patter on the floor as he switches all the bright lights and starts to go downstairs, lighting it all up too. he is scared.
Travis can smell it on him, from where he is pressing on the wall, listening as day comes closer.
The large living room flower he is hiding behind right on the wall acts as his cover, and Day doesn't even notice him when he comes to stand right next to him, still wet, still dipping, and so very close …
His mate … his mate is alive, and he is here.
So close.
Travis doesn't close his eyes as he takes a deep inhale, eyes trained on day, on the nape of his neck as the water trails down his wet hair.
The ends of his hair are curled, dripping droplets of water onto his robe. He is lithe, small even. Too small for Travis' liking, but radiant.
He was always radiant. Always the brightest. Always the most beautiful.
And yet, he has become even more so.
But his scent. It's all wrong. Feels suppressed.
Travis was always able to feel his omega even before they were bonded. And now, not even a trace of it.
Something is very, very wrong.