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Connor’s at the dining table, phone to his ear. “I understand that, AJ, but there’s nothing I can do about it right now. I’m home for the night. Sure, I’ll send that email before I go to bed.” After another minute of placating, he hangs up and tosses the phone on the table. “The younger Moore is an absolute pain in the ass. He just asked if I could send him all our paint samples because he isn’t sure we picked the right shade of blue.”

Trepidation worms through me at Connor’s stressed scent. Is this the right time? Maybe I should wait.

No.

Doing well with Moore is important, but money isn’t everything. Happiness is. Fulfillment is.Loveis.

The longer we let things go on, the worse it’ll be and it’s already going to be difficult to get his agreement.

I pull out a chair and point Nate toward one. The four-top has a single seat left open, a glaring reminder of the place I’m trying to fill. “Deal with whatever it is tomorrow. Pack meeting.”

Folded hands in front of him, Connor grimaces when his phone buzzes in rapid succession. Without looking at the screen, he turns it off, focus on us. “Did I put too much detergent in the laundry again? If so, I’m sorry. I’ll measure better next time.”

Nate nudges my foot in support.

“You did, but that’s not why we’re here.”

Please let this work.

Taking a deep breath, I come right out with it. “I think we should sign up as a heat relief pack.”

Conor leans back, hands on the table like he’s ready to push off and run. Pretty sure he would’ve been less shocked if I’d hit him with a bat.

“Just listen,” I beg. “A lot of the omegas at heat clinics are single but haven’t found the right pack. We could help them and see if we’re compatible at the same time.”

Connor’s brow raises as he looks between us. “You want to stud us out?”

Nate hisses through his teeth. I’m a patient man but that’s so far out of line, I don’t have words to express how I feel about it. “I want to help a vulnerable population of our community with something they need while also slowly integrating our pack into the idea of an omega. Fuck you very much.”

Connor’s face falls. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was just caught off guard. This is a little unexpected, Dez.”

“Is it? This isn’t the first time we’ve had this discussion.” I’ve been clear about wanting to try again.

He scrubs his jaw. “Why now?”

Nate leans forward like he’s curious too, and I know this is the most important test of all.

“We’ve been in stasis for too long. I’m worried if we don’t at least start interacting with omegas more, we’ll all be at risk of going feral.”

Though it’s not the main reason I want an omega, it is a serious concern. One I know Connor won’t ignore.

Feral alphas are a danger to society. At the mercy of their instincts, they’re less likely to control themselves in high-stress situations. Some can manage with doses of omega pheromonesfrom scent or rut bars, but others need additional medication that never really bridges the gap. The worst end up in jail, institutionalized, or dead.

It says a lot that neither of them disagrees.

“How often would we be called in?” Connor asks.

My shoulders drop. He’s willing to listen. “Could be once a month, could be more. Getting chosen is up to the omegas, but we have a say too. Revelry was clear that consent on all sides is required.”

Connor tenses, thumb running over the knuckle of his ring finger. A habit he picked up after everything went to hell. “Bonding?”

“No. That’s a firm boundary for the clinic. They provide temporary teeth caps for every heat.”

That seems to settle him more than anything else. Just when I think we’re in the clear, Connor turns to Nate. “Are you planning toparticipate?”

Poof.All that hope disappears like it was never there. Without our third, there’s no chance Connor will agree. This is it. Game over.

Nate throws me a sympathetic glance. “No. I have no problem with either of you doing it, but I’m not interested in anyone but our match. I’d rather die a virgin than be with someone else.”