Page 17 of Omega's Faith

"Children," Diana says mildly. "Save it for the honeymoon."

Mom makes a small, distressed sound.

"So," Diana turns back to my parents. "Tell me about your community. How many families? Do they all share your... traditional values?"

And there it is. She's fishing. Trying to figure out how much damage control she'll need.

"We have about three hundred members," Dad says carefully. "Good people. Teachers, plumbers, accountants. Normal folks who love God and each other."

"What is the living situation?" Diana asks lightly. "I understand you all live in a compound."

"We live in our own homes," Mom says, voice tight. "We're not what you think we are."

"I don't think anything," Diana lies smoothly. "I'm simply preparing for the questions we'll receive. The media can be... creative in their interpretations."

Alex shifts again, his leg actually brushing mine this time. The contact burns through my dress pants. I can't tell if it's intentional or if he's just restless, but my body doesn't care. Heat pools low in my belly.

Stop it, I order my hormones.He's an arrogant ass who can't even pretend to tolerate you.

"The ceremony," Diana switches topics. "I’ll need a list of your guests as soon as possible so we can run them through our security checks. Though we'll need to balance it with Alexander's side. The governor will attend, several ambassadors, the entire board of Colborne Industries."

"A thousand guests seems excessive," Dad ventures.

"That’s because it's not a wedding, it's a PR exercise," Alex drawls. It’s the first thing he has volunteered since we arrived. But his leg stays pressed against mine, a line of heat I can't escape without obviously moving.

"Don't be dramatic," Diana chides. "It's a celebration of compatibility. Do you know how rare a ninety-six percent match is? The media is calling it the Match of the Century."

"Lucky us," I say under my breath.

Alex smirks. His foot hooks around my ankle, even as his attention supposedly goes back to his phone.

I go rigid, heart slamming against my ribs. It's definitely intentional now. He's touching me on purpose while scrolling through his phone like I don't exist.

"The reception will be at the Bellmont as well," Diana continues.

Under the table, Alex's hand moves. His thumb rubs against my thigh. Just the barest stroke, but it sends electricity shooting up my spine. My scent spikes, and his grip tightens.

What is he doing?

"Perhaps we could discuss this later," Dad suggests, obviously sensing my distress. "Work out the details—"

"The details are quite simple," Diana cuts him off. "This wedding will happen in three weeks. It will be photographed, documented, and celebrated as the event of the season. We will take care of the details. I’ll make sure Ricky keeps you updated with all requirements. You don’t need to worry about any of it. We’ll make sure that the media narrative says what we want it to."

"Our son," Mom says quietly, "is a person. Not a press release."

Diana gives her a sympathetic smile. "In three weeks, he'll be both."

The courses keep coming. Tiny portions of things I can't pronounce, each more elaborate than the last. The conversation limps along.

Through it all, Alex maintains his grip on my thigh. Histhumb traces abstract patterns against my skin, each touch sending sparks through my nervous system. I should pull away. Should tell him to stop.

I don't.

"One more thing," Diana says as dessert arrives—a series of rich dark chocolate somethings. "We'll need to coordinate Jonah's move immediately after the ceremony."

"Move?" I blink, jerked out of my Alex-induced haze.

"To Alexander's estate, naturally. I've arranged for movers to arrive the day of the wedding. You won’t need to do anything."