Page 10 of Red River (Eden’s Omegaverse #4)

Sometimes, I felt like I was on the verge of getting an ulcer. My stomach twisted into knots every time I saw my younger kids interacting with Igor or Igor interacting with Archer.

To make things worse, Sam and Riley kept bombarding me with texts, asking for updates, and I had no idea what to tell them.

They both tried calling, but I couldn’t bring myself to pick up. I just didn’t have the mental energy to deal with them on top of everything else. I’d hoped that coming here would help lower my stress, but so far, it was doing the opposite.

My prayer was that it was only the time of transition.

After we got back from the store, Archer had the younger boys doing exercises. First, they ran in circles for a while, then moved on to push-ups, sit-ups, and squats.

While they were running, I stared at them blankly—half of me feeling happy, the other half guilty for being a parent who had let them stay at home glued to their screens.

Sometimes, I was so dead tired I couldn’t find the strength to organize another form of entertainment for them, no matter how much I wanted to. I just needed a second parent to join forces with, but for years, it was only me—constantly on the run, driving to school, shopping, doctor appointments, cooking, cleaning—all with a headset on, responding to clients' calls.

It was so maddeningly exhausting that I simply couldn’t do more.

And now, I stared at Archer, at his strength, and felt an almost overwhelming relief that, finally, my kids would have more than an overworked dad.

That said, Thomas was always interested in their school achievements and enjoyed engaging in conversations on various subjects. He was always willing to listen, but his mobility and health greatly limited his influence on them.

Once they were done, they started planning a spot in the yard where Archer wanted to build an obstacle course. It would have ladders, a climbing wall, pull-up bars, a rope and more. Van and Aiden were ecstatic—but for different reasons. Aiden loved building things, while Van was eager to have a place to practice bouldering. As for Lake, he was just happy to be included. He liked helping out and found joy in simply being around people, especially when something interesting was happening.

They were really excited, and I was glad that at least the younger kids were getting along with Archer and responding positively to his ideas.

After lunch, which Igor skipped again, Archer took the younger boys back to the Jeep and drove off to Home Depot to buy the materials they needed for the obstacle course.

While Archer was gone, Oliver glanced at the plate meant for Igor and muttered, "Maybe I’ll sneak it to him?"

A strange unease prickled down my spine. My eyes met his, and in that moment, I saw his nature as clearly as daylight—his beta nature. He didn’t value structure, rules, or rigid boundaries. But I did. I was tired of chaos, of everything falling apart.

"No. Archer set this rule, and I’ll follow it."

Oliver smirked. "But I won’t say a thing."

Irritation stirred in my chest, but I held it back, keeping it from seeping into my tone. "You don’t understand," I whispered, averting my eyes.

He shrugged. "It’s just a plate of food."

"No, it’s more than that. It’s about respect."

Oliver gave me a look, still not getting it. I let out a small, rueful smile, then turned and left the kitchen.

Stepping onto the patio, I stared out at the lake. The longer I stood there, the more determined I felt to keep my promise to Archer. No beta, no omega—no one—would shake my decision.

A few minutes later, the door swung open, and Archer returned, surrounded by excited kids, their voices overlapping in lively discussion.

When he saw me, I sent him a shy smile. Archer walked into the bathroom to wash his hands, and I followed. He turned on the faucet; as he rinsed off, I hesitated before stepping closer, my fingers brushing against his forearm.

He paused, eyes shifting to my face, searching. I smiled.

"I’m glad you’re back."

Archer blinked. "I was gone for an hour."

I shrugged lightly. "I know. But I still… felt your absence."

For a moment, he just stared at me. His gaze shifted to my lips before quickly returning to my eyes.

Slowly, he dried his hands, looking pensive. Then, without warning, he turned toward me and wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close.

I let out a small gasp, and didn’t resist. We stood there, pressed together, hearts pounding, breathing, savoring our closeness.

"Oliver wanted to take the plate to Igor," I reported Oliver’s intention to Archer, my voice carrying a hint of pride in my snitching.

Archer raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"But… I didn’t let him!"

He huffed warmly. "Well, it could’ve been your little secret," he said in a low, slightly teasing voice.

"I chose loyalty to you."

His expression grew serious, our eyes locked. Slowly, Archer’s gaze flickered to my lips again, but then—

"Archer!"

The boys’ voices carried from the living room, their impatience obvious. Archer exhaled, letting me go—albeit reluctantly.

"We need to unpack, or they’ll go crazy." He winked.

"Sure, go. And… thank you."

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded before stepping out of the bathroom, leaving me with the lingering warmth of his touch.

Some of the things they’d bought came with them, while the rest was scheduled to arrive on a Home Depot truck the next day, since many of the items were large—wooden and metal components.

Archer and the boys spent some time down by the lake and later played with the chickens for a bit.

But Igor never joined them. He stayed locked in his room, deliberately isolating himself.

Then came dinner, and still… Igor didn’t come. Oliver peeked at me, but I responded with a defiant gaze. I knew Archer was the only one among us with any sort of plan . Meanwhile, I was just drifting in a mess of chaotic hopes, intentions, and expectations, with no idea how to fix the situation. I had to trust him.

But that didn’t change the fact that I felt bad about the whole situation—Igor’s persistent rebellion, how stubborn he was. How long would he keep this up?

At one point, as Oliver was already cleaning up after dinner, he glanced at me with a thoughtful gaze and murmured, "It’s not my business, but you look really stressed out."

I let out a sigh, almost like a suppressed sob. "I’m exhausted. I really wish Archer could handle all of this because I just don’t have the strength anymore. It’s too much for one person."

Oliver hesitated, eyeing me as if trying to decide what the best thing to say to me would be, probably aiming for something reassuring.

"Archer will be fine. He’s very principled—maybe even strict—but he’s fair and emotionally stable. I think the kids need that." His voice was careful, measured. I got the sense he didn’t necessarily agree with all of Archer’s methods, but he at least recognized the idea behind them.

"Yes, that’s one of the reasons I came here. I’ve always been drawn to alphas who take charge. When I first met Thomas, he seemed a lot like Archer—but… that wasn’t the case. I just hope Archer can get things under control because, honestly, I’m at my limit."

Oliver tilted his head, observing me attentively. "Let’s stay positive. Archer’s really young, but he already has strong leadership qualities and isn’t lacking in common sense. That’s probably the most important thing."

"The worst part is, I have to go back to work tomorrow. I took a few days off, but if I’m gone too long, they’ll replace me—it’s that kind of job. And I’m not mentally ready for it."

"Did you talk to Archer about it? He told me yesterday he wants you to take a break for once—maybe even a vacation."

I hesitated. "I didn’t… I’d feel bad not working. Thomas’s debts wiped out all my savings. I spent years building a safety net for us, and his carelessness ruined it."

"River, Archer is a shareholder in a major chain of medical facilities specializing in plastic surgery. Do you even know how much he makes? He doesn’t have to work, but he still does. Trust me, you can afford to take a breather. You’ve been through a lot—give yourself some time."

For a moment, I stared at him, unsure what to say. Oliver's friendly face encouraged me to open up more.

"And on top of that… I feel guilty. Like I should be mourning more than I am. But instead, I’m just avoiding all of it—thinking about Thomas, dealing with my own emotions. It’s a pattern with me. We were both always running from things."

"I think you’re putting too much pressure on yourself. Time, trust in time. Everything will settle down, and you’ll find your peace."

His words helped calm me down a little—not much, but enough to get through the rest of the day.

Getting the kids to bed, dealing with Igor’s silent resistance, and… ignoring a few missed calls from Sam. He was getting impatient, and I couldn’t blame him.

The only thing I managed to do was finally call Riley.

He listened to my update on the situation and said, "Honest to God, I hope Archer finds a way to deal with Igor. If outsiders notice his chaotic behavior, safety enforcers will be the least of his problems. If they deem him a hard case, they won’t even bother appointing another case guardian—it’ll be a sure ticket to alpha boot camp."

His words did nothing to ease my anxiety, so I made sure to cut our conversation short. I really needed a more positive approach to the situation—otherwise, I would probably explode.

After I ended the call, I walked into my room and worked on my nest for a while, thinking about ways to relax.

One idea was pretty persistent… and tempting.

There was something I wanted to explore a little more—my chemistry with Archer. I wanted to go to his room again. Even if it didn’t lead to anything serious just yet, I still craved at least a hint of that intimacy.

So, when evening came, I took another long, thorough shower, threw on a thin T-shirt, let my hair down, and knocked on Archer’s door.

He opened it, standing there in just his underwear, then let me in without a word.

For a moment, we just stood there, quietly looking at each other.

"I’m here in case you changed your mind. I’m at your service." I gave him a small nod.

"That’s still not the answer I’m looking for, River," he said calmly. "But it’s nice that you’re so willing. I appreciate that. This is how you obviously understand submission. But that’s where we differ."

He was wearing a dark T-shirt that clung to his muscular chest and a pair of black boxers. He looked so young, so athletic, and, let’s be real—so damn attractive…

I wouldn’t have minded if he had just thrown me onto the bed and taken me right then and there. But I knew he wouldn’t do that. And maybe that was for the best?

A part of me understood him. But the restless, unsatisfied omega in me—the one starving for an alpha’s firm hand on my neck, pinning me to the bed, forcing me to arch my back and take him deep—that part of me wanted his dominance, badly.

"Would you perhaps like to inspect my hole again?" I muttered cautiously.

I knew how silly it sounded, but I could tell it… turned him on.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Sure, inspecting doesn’t hurt anyone. And I like that you want to make this into… our little routine."

Oh, I did. I wanted him to stare at my hole, at me—wide open, helpless, hungry, gaping… wanting to be filled… and stabilized!

So I gave him a coy smile.

This time, though, I felt more desperately bold and changed my position—I needed to see. I lay on my back and pulled my knees up to my chest.

Archer raised an amused eyebrow. "Oh, switching to a more intense scenario today? You want to watch me jerk off?"

"Yeah," I muttered, feeling adventurous.

My eyes drifted to his boxers, where a bulge was already starting to form. For the first time, I could see his face clearly, and I was surprised by the look in his eyes. I could tell—feel—that he wanted me, the way his gaze traveled over my body. I pulled my T-shirt up, exposing my hard nipples.

His desire was tangible, like it was alive under his skin, and it almost overwhelmed me with a strange kind of joy. So I could still offer him something—he desired me, matching my desire for him. I had something of value to give him, a thing he craved. His eyes swept over my shamelessly naked body, over my nipples, my dick, and, of course, landed on my hole.

My cock quickly stiffened, and I touched it, my movements slow for now. Part of me had already slipped into that submissive, slutty mindset—the kind I could evidently only reach with him. I’d never dared to act this way with Thomas.

"Yes, touch yourself," he said in a low, velvety tone, and I wasn’t about to disobey.

When he saw me stroking myself, spreading pre-cum over the head of my cock, he slowly slid his boxers down. It was the first time I saw him completely exposed.

I’ll admit, it knocked the breath out of me for a second.

Sure, Archer was seven feet tall, but that… that thing was just insanely massive. A wave of fear rolled over me. Was I really supposed to take that monster inside me someday?

That thing would kill me!

I froze, staring at his crotch, my hands stopping mid-motion.

"What’s the problem, River?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

"You’re… so big."

"As a whole, or are we talking about something specific?" That damn smirk appeared on his lips again.

"Both…"

"Are you scared?" His smile softened, almost reassuring, like someone trying to calm a startled deer.

"Have you ever had trouble, you know, fitting that thing into anyone?"

He laughed, rolling his eyes slightly. "To be honest, yeah. One of my exes broke up with me over it—said he just couldn’t handle it. And others, well, let’s just say they were more into other kinds of fun than actual penetration."

"Did anyone take… the whole thing?"

Archer was barely keeping a straight face; I could see he was fighting not to chuckle.

"Nope, nobody dared."

I bit my lip, eyeing it with some unhealthy curiosity.

"I mean, I’ve given birth to five kids, so I should be able to handle it. But that was seven years ago, and, you know…"

Archer finally chuckled.

"Let’s stay optimistic, River. But this isn’t the time for exploring whether it will fit or not, and how deep, nor for chatter. Just… keep touching yourself. And your cock’s not exactly small either; it deserves some appreciation as well."

For my short height, I’d always been happy with what I had, but what could I even say with my modest six inches compared to him practically… doubling me?

A hellish monster cock!

"Sure… but mine doesn’t compare to yours," I blurted out, feeling panic mixed with wild excitement.

"It doesn’t have to. Yours is prettier. Sleeker. Perfectly proportional. And smooth, no big veins like mine."

"Veins are sooo awesome…"

"I prefer cocks like yours."

I blushed.

"If I weren’t such a hopeless top, I’d want you to fuck me with it," Archer murmured.

"That’s sweet of you to say, but it’s a good thing you’re not, because I’m a hopeless bottom, and I’m not planning to change that. Sorry. I love roles."

"Works for me."

As we talked, we were both stroking ourselves. It seemed like Archer was going to finish first this time. He stepped closer to the bed, resting one knee on the edge. His face was dark, flushed, his breathing quickened, as well as his heart, and his eyes were locked on my crotch.

So I rolled my pelvis in a way that would expose my hole even more so that he could see a translucent trickle of my slick…

Moments later, I saw thick, white streams spilling from his cock, landing across my stomach in several spurts—and that pushed me over the edge. I came too, feeling so deliciously dirty, so filthy.

As Archer squeezed the last drops onto my stomach, he gave me a sly smile.

"So, what’s your plan, River? Want to stop by my room every night for a jerk-off session?"

"And you wouldn’t want that?"

"On the contrary—I’d love it. If that’s what you want, I’m on board. The key word, River, is you wanting it."

For a moment, we just stared into each other’s eyes. Then Archer grabbed a paper towel, sat on the edge of the bed, and, with surprisingly gentle movements, cleaned me up. It was… sweet.

As he did, I whispered, "I wish everything would just work out between us."

"It will, River. Rest. Heal in your own way, and let yourself lean on me, okay?"

I sighed heavily.

"Tomorrow, you’ll have to deal with Igor’s resistance again."

"Don’t worry about that. I’ll use the same method my own father used on me—it’s tried and effective."

"Alright. I’ll stay out of it, I promise."

"Good."

As I was leaving, Archer suddenly stopped me.

For a moment, we stood like this, holding hands, his so large and mine so small that it almost disappeared in his grasp.

"Thank you, River. I really appreciate you coming out here. Sleep well," he said, his tone soft, almost tender, and I felt a slight shiver.

I lifted my eyes to his for a moment, then even dared to steal a brief look at his lips. But it wasn’t time for it, so I nodded and slipped out quickly before I said something we both weren't ready for.

***

Just because I was counting on Archer didn’t mean that I wouldn’t keep an eye on what was happening with Igor. I was far too worried. So I woke up at 6:15 with a nervous knot in my stomach and dragged myself out of bed. I was angry at myself for getting so upset before things had even started.

I went to take a quick shower, hoping it would calm my nerves a bit, but as soon as I stepped out of the bathroom, I heard Archer’s voice in the hallway.

"Igor?"

Apparently, he was standing by the door, which… remained closed.

Was Igor planning on ignoring him? I already knew this wasn’t going to end well, so I went out of my room. But as soon as Archer saw me, he did one thing: pointed to my room door with a short, calm gesture, his face reminded unfazed.

I felt like a little kid being sent to the corner, but at the same time, it gave me a strange sense of satisfaction. Great! Let Archer prove himself—be my guest. I was fed up. At least today, I didn’t have to deal with Igor’s moods.

Being locked in my own room for a few days without my phone—because of Igor—kind of made me hope for a miracle . Was the miracle about to start?

Let’s face it: no omega had ever won against a young alpha who went into Musth —not because of a lack of parenting skills, but because of their unique biology. I got why Archer wanted me to stay out of it.

So, I went back to my room and pressed my ear to the door to listen.

But the silence was far too unsettling, so curiosity got the better of me, and I cracked the door open just an inch to see what was happening from a safe distance.

Archer wasn’t by Igor’s room anymore. I had no idea what was going on, but after a moment, I heard his footsteps on the stairs. A few seconds later, he appeared in my limited line of sight, carrying some tools and a toolbox.

What the hell was he up to?

Then, I heard strange noises. Unfortunately, from my position, I couldn’t see exactly what was happening at Igor’s door, but the noises went on for a while. Then, suddenly, there was a loud crack, and I saw Archer setting Igor’s door aside—he had taken it off the hinges!

Wow, so unexpected! I never would have thought of that. I’d probably just be whining and yelling at Igor’s door, hoping he’d come to his senses and open it.

Archer’s determination was admirable.

I heard Igor’s voice, full of protest: "What the hell are you doing, freak? Taking my door off is going way too far!"

"I decided you don’t need a door. You spend too much time locked in your room—it’s not healthy for a teenager."

"You’re seriously messed up!"

"Now, you’re either coming downstairs like this, or you’re going to change into something else."

"No way! I’m not doing any of that! Try and make me."

My heart was pounding so hard I could barely hear anything else, but I caught the sound of a struggle. I felt like my head was about to explode, and I had to fight the urge to rush out of my room. But I didn’t want to break my promise to Archer—my curiosity had to wait.

A moment later, in the narrow view from the crack in my door, I saw Archer walking down the hallway, carrying a protesting, thrashing Igor in front of him!

I also noticed the other boys had come out of their beds and were peeking through cracks in their doors, just like I was, watching as their older brother struggled with Archer, cursing all the way.

I quickly ran to the window, snapped it open, and saw that Archer had set Igor down on the patio.

Archer started talking. "We’re going to run on a nice, scenic trail through the woods—"

"You can run there yourself, asshole! I’m not going anywhere!" Igor crossed his arms and defiantly raised his chin.

But Archer didn’t argue with him. He grabbed Igor around the waist again… and headed straight for the pool! He swung Igor lightly and tossed him into the cold, early morning water.

Since the sun rose on the other side of the building, the light didn’t hit the pool until around 9 am, and at 6, the water must have been freezing cold.

Igor came up to the surface, cursing and splashing water everywhere, shouting insults at Archer.

"You know, I wasn’t a fan of running as a kid either. My dad used a small dog pool. If I didn’t want to run, I had to swim. You’ve got two options too: swim for half an hour, or we go for a run. It’s your choice."

I heard giggles coming from next door. Aiden and Lake must have snuck into Van’s room—the only one with a view of the pool—and now they were laughing at Igor together.

It didn’t sit right with me, so I quickly left my room and went to Van’s. Sure enough, the boys were standing by the window, pressed up against the glass, snickering.

"Back to bed. It’s not time to get up yet—it’s only 6:25!"

"But Dad, we want to see how Archer’s handling Igor!" Aiden whimpered.

Van added, "I want to see if Igor loses my water bottle again or if he fails at something else… He’s pathetic."

"Boys, don’t make fun of your brother. He’s struggling. He doesn’t know what to do. It feels like everything is falling apart for him, like he’s losing on every front."

Lake and Aiden fell silent, but Van gritted his teeth.

"Igor deserves all of this. He’s always the one who starts stuff, nitpicks at everything, and acts like a jerk—"

"Like a lot of teenagers, Van."

Van furrowed his brow. "Father spoiled him because he’s an alpha! He let Igor get away with too much! But I don’t think that’s a reason to go easy on him," he muttered, clenching his jaw. There was a rebellious edge to his tone. Had Igor really gotten under his skin that badly?

"You’re right, I agree with you. But this is a really tough time for Igor. It’s about breaking his will and submitting to another alpha’s dominance. Every boy who goes to an alpha boot camp has to go through the same process. The good thing is, he’s doing it here, surrounded by family. But that doesn’t mean you should mock him."

The boys fell silent, staring at me. And in that moment, I realized with shocking clarity just how much damage Igor’s behavior had caused. All his brothers—who used to get along with him, more or less—had turned against him and sided with someone they’d only known for two days!

Two days!

That alone told me how deep the problem ran.

I felt sorry for Igor, but I also became even more convinced that he had to find a way to peacefully coexist with the rest of us before something between us broke beyond repair. And Archer… was his last hope.

I walked past my sons and went to the window.

Down below, Igor was being tossed into the water again—clearly, he hadn’t gotten the message the first time.

This time, we all stood there in silence, watching as he tried to swim to the edge, only for Archer to throw him back in each time.

It went on for quite a while, but eventually, Igor was too exhausted.

He must have been freezing with that skinny body of his… My heart clenched as I finally saw him crawl out of the pool, his shoulders slumped. Through the window, I could barely hear their voices, but I caught Igor saying:

"Alright, you bastard, you win! I’ll go on your stupid jog, but don’t expect this to make us friends."

Unfortunately, I didn’t catch Archer’s reply. Igor headed straight for the house, probably to change.

I noticed the look on Van’s face—he wanted to go to the door and most likely tell Igor that his holographic water bottle was staying with him. But my warning glance stopped him in his tracks. I didn’t want to make things worse for Igor.

A few minutes later, Igor came downstairs, now dressed in a T-shirt, sweatpants, and sneakers.

Meanwhile, Archer was warming up, but Igor didn’t join him. He just followed behind, and soon, both of them were jogging toward the woods.

"Back to bed, boys. Try to get some more sleep. Breakfast won’t be until around 8 am."

I could tell they were too excited, but I still managed to get them to at least lie in their beds.

Of course, I couldn’t sleep either. I kept tossing and turning in my brand-new, very cool nest. I was actually pretty proud of it.

Eventually, I sat up and started making small adjustments to it, just to keep my mind occupied. It helped me relax a little, but not enough, so in the end, I gave up and went downstairs to start making breakfast.

When Oliver showed up, I was strangely embarrassed to tell him what had happened.

Around 7:15, the patio door opened, and in stepped Archer, followed by a sweaty, exhausted Igor—red as a peony.

He didn’t even look at me, just walked past and went upstairs. I couldn’t stop feeling bad for him. My guilty conscience was eating me alive, but there was no other way.

Even if I left today and took him to my parents, it could be even worse. Igor hated them—and unlike Archer, he actually had some reasons. That resentment had been ingrained in him by Thomas for years. Besides, my father was not as dominant as Archer, and it would be crazy to expect an older man to fight with the raging hormones of a young, hostile alpha who had grown up being taught to hate him.

Archer was a stranger, which meant Igor had no backstory fueling his anger toward him. I prayed that would make all the difference in the end.

He went into the small pantry in the corner of the kitchen and came out with a bottle of mineral water.

Our eyes met.

I made a small nod, and… he responded in kind.

But not a word was spoken. There was no need.

I was going to honor Archer’s request and trust him to lead Igor, knowing how crucial his role was. Trying to interfere with what his instincts were telling him might disrupt the whole process.

Soon after, Lake came downstairs, his usual serious expression in place, carefully carrying his small keyboard. He set it on the living room table and started playing, completely lost in his own world.

Only then did Aiden and Van come down, and to my great surprise… Igor joined us for breakfast too!

Wow! Had Archer talked to him about it? Or was it just a healthy hunger? In any case, I was jumping with excitement—though only on the inside.

Igor didn’t say a word as he sat down at his plate. At the same time, I shot a look at Van, who was fidgeting—clearly about to take a jab at Igor.

Archer came out of the shower and noticed the keyboard on the table.

"Who plays the keyboard?"

Lake raised a finger like he was in class.

"Will you play me Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star ?"

"I can play Nothing Else Matters by Metallica on my guitar," Van muttered, but Lake ignored him.

"I already know Chopsticks , Jingle Bells , Hot Cross Buns , and a few more!" he proudly listed.

Archer smirked. "Of course, you do! Please play Chopsticks . I love that melody!"

Lake stepped up to the keyboard with an adorably serious expression. He stretched his fingers dramatically, making Archer stifle a chuckle, then started playing, his little brows furrowed in concentration.

When he finished, Archer clapped enthusiastically. "Bravo!"

Lake’s cheeks turned red, but before he could show off any more tunes, Van muttered, "You should hear our dad play the violin." He shot me a glance. "He’s a true virtuoso."

Immediately, I frowned at him.

Archer’s gaze locked onto mine—intense. "I would love to hear him play," he said in a tone that sent a wave of heat straight to my crotch.

"I’m rusty. It’s a bad idea."

Fortunately, I was saved by the doorbell.

The guys from Home Depot had arrived, and Archer had to help unload the materials for the obstacle course. All the younger boys ran outside with him, eager to get started. Their excitement was contagious, and it made me happy.

Of course, Igor didn’t join them.

"Don’t you want to help?" I muttered as he licked his plate clean.

"No."

"That’s your choice, Igor. You can start acting normal, or you can keep up this weird rebellion."

"Weird rebellion? You don’t know the first thing about rebelling," he snarled before jumping to his feet and storming out of the kitchen, taking the stairs two at a time.

I sighed. It was still a long road ahead.

Archer and my younger sons worked on building the obstacle course until lunch, then went right back to it until late afternoon.

The only progress with Igor was that he’d started coming down for meals—but he still didn’t say a word, keeping his focus on his plate. His bedroom door hadn’t been put back yet. Archer had taken it somewhere, and Igor was probably too proud to ask for it.

Later in the day, the boys drove with Archer to the nearest chicken farm and brought back five additional chicks. I was relieved they weren’t tiny chicks but more like teenagers, so they didn’t need constant care. The boys helped Archer add another section to the coop, and they were all super excited.

My heart almost swelled when, while staring through the window, I caught the moment Lake hugged Archer for a second—a bit shyly, but with honest gratitude.

That evening, as I passed through the hallway, I saw Igor sitting at his computer.

I was tempted to go in and talk to him, but when I stopped in the doorway, he shot me a look that made me decide to give him a little more time.

So instead, I went back to my room and pulled my violin case from my suitcase. Van’s words today had awakened a hidden need in me. It had been over a month since I last played, and as I lifted my beloved instrument, stiffness crept into my fingers, uncertainty settling in. Once, this had come so easily to me…

A professional career had never been my goal—certainly not as a soloist (way too nerve-wracking!). I dreamed of being a music educator. But playing for hours on end always brought a kind of joy nothing else could. It filled an unspoken void within me, a quiet comfort I hadn’t realized I was missing.

It also usually stirred back childhood memories—playing with my family. My dad on piano, my father on guitar, me on violin, Winter on bass, and Snow on harmonica. We would jam for hours, and I cherished those moments.

Lately, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to play, but now… now I kinda needed to.

I played for about half an hour, letting myself get lost in the music—forgetting my stress, forgetting where I was.

Then, finally, I froze with the bow in my hand as I heard a soft knock.

"Come in."

The door opened, and Archer stepped inside.

A wave of excitement and anxiety passed over me. His gaze moved from me to the violin, then finally to my nest, where I sat at the center.

He stared at me with surprising intensity.

In the AO community, it wasn’t customary for an alpha to comment on an omega’s nest. Some did, especially those interested in a particular omega, but it wasn’t the norm.

Finally, Archer tore his gaze away from it and looked at me.

"It’s the most beautiful nest I’ve ever seen."

Heat rose to my cheeks—first, because he had the audacity to comment, which felt like a clear declaration of his serious intentions toward me. And second, because Thomas had never once acknowledged my nests—he had completely ignored them.

So this was… unexpected. And it left me with an oddly warm feeling inside.

Archer slowly sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb the structure.

"Could you play for me, River?"

It was unavoidable anyway, so I nodded.

"Play something… personal," he added, his voice carrying a hint of melancholy.

I knew exactly what to play. But just as I lifted the bow, he stopped me.

"Let your hair down."

I took a deep breath, meeting his gaze. Slowly, I reached up, pulled the hairband from my braid, and unbraided it, letting my long red waves spill over my shoulders and back.

Archer watched me, his eyes slightly hooded.

Then, finally, I lifted the bow again and started to play a piece my brother Snow had composed. He had been just a kid at the time, but it was beautiful, and I’d never forgotten the notes.

For a while, music filled the room, blending with Archer’s energy, almost reaching out to me, intertwining with mine. He didn’t take his eyes off me for a second.

When I finished, he clapped softly.

"You play beautifully, River. I’ve always wanted to hear you. Sam mentioned many times that you have a real gift, and it’s true."

"Thank you." I felt a treacherous blush creeping up my cheeks. "It’s my brother Snow’s composition. My whole family is musical. Out of my kids, Riley is the most talented—he plays the violin too. Van dabbles in guitar a bit, and Lake has his keyboard…"

"I must say, I love the violin the most. Guitar and keyboard just don’t have the same vibe." Archer smiled.

For a moment, his expression became strangely pensive. He hesitated, glancing thoughtfully out the window.

"Such talents run in families. I knew one other guy who played the violin. I lived with him briefly—just for half a year. He transferred to our college after a bad breakup. His name was Skye."

Something shifted in his gaze, and he locked eyes with me—intently, as if he were trying to tell me something. I stayed quiet, a strange shiver running down my spine.

"I remember what he told me," Archer continued calmly. "He was inspired to play the violin by his brother. He was barely three years old when he saw him for the last time, but sometimes he’d sneak into his brother’s room to listen to him play—beautifully. He never forgot it, even though he never saw his brother again."

A tremor ran through me, unwanted emotions stirring in my mind.

"What are you trying to tell me, Archer?" I whispered, my voice shaky.

"His name was Skye Nolan."

I clenched my fists involuntarily, nails digging into my skin.

"You met one of my brothers?"

He nodded, not breaking eye contact. "I shared a room with him for half a year. Every time I look at Igor, it’s like I’m seeing Skye. They look so much alike—like twins."

A powerful tremor shook my body, flashes of my past flickering before my eyes. A small boy staring at me with big eyes as I played.

"Livel, play Twinkle?" The question, spoken in a toddler’s voice, echoed in my head.

My breath hitched, and an unwanted tear escaped down my cheek. The memory was sweet and bitter at the same time…

"You lived with my little brother… why didn’t you tell me? Does Sam know?"

He dropped his gaze to the edge of my nest. "No one knows. Even Skye doesn’t know I’ve met you. I suspected it might cause unnecessary drama between both families."

My hands spasmed as my mind swirled. I stood up. For a while, I just took deep breaths, keeping quiet—because he was right. When Thomas was alive, I probably wouldn’t have wanted to talk about it at all.

"Does he still play the violin? Is he a musician?" I whispered, barely audible.

"He plays, but he’s not a musician. He was in the same department as me—computer science. I was in cybersecurity and system administration, and he was a programmer."

Archer’s eyes traced my restless movements as I paced the room, feeling just… awful. Absolutely horrible.

"After you left, one more child was born into your family. You have an alpha brother by the name of Sun. He’s eighteen now."

I closed my eyes, emotions fluttering in my stomach like a flock of wild birds.

"Why didn’t Uncle Van email me about this?"

"I don’t know."

Too much. Too much.

"I’m not ready to talk about this now, Archer. Please… can we change the topic?" My voice sounded like a wailing plea.

"Sure. I understand how complicated this is," he said, his voice softer. "I haven’t seen my own dad in seventeen years. I don’t even know if he’s still alive."

We sat in silence for a moment before he murmured,

"These are the kinds of things that need to… ripen inside of us. We need to be ready for them. I just wanted to mention that Igor looks so much like Skye—and even a bit like Storm, too."

I raised my head at that name. "Storm? He was the only one of my brothers who was a purple alpha."

Archer smiled slightly. "Yeah, I saw him once during graduation. He’s huge—taller than me, probably around seven foot two. But I didn’t approach them then. There was a big crowd, and Skye was really down over some breakup with a beta guy."

My heart pounded so hard that the rush of blood in my ears made it difficult to hear.

"When I left home, Skye was barely three years old, and Storm was four and a half. He was a very adventurous kid. My other brothers… they—" I cut off.

My thoughts were incoherent. I couldn’t focus.

One thing kept bothering me—my dad had eight children in total. I was the oldest. Sun was the youngest. It looked like a whole lot of things happened there. I stopped being part of their family—they lost one son, then got another.

Maybe they didn’t even think about me.

Perhaps I was just a distant, unpleasant memory? A shameful secret from the past, the ungrateful son who ran away.

Just to say anything, to throw out some of the dense, painful energy choking my throat, I blurted out, "Are you still in touch with Skye?"

"No, we lost contact after graduation. He was super into some beta guy—a total wildcard with tattoos and piercings—who treated him like crap. I know they broke up after graduation, but I don’t know what happened later."

My emotions were in turmoil. I could only squeak out, "I really don’t want to talk about this any longer, Archer. It’s killing me… I can’t. Not now."

Archer studied me carefully, then slowly nodded.

These unwelcome waves of nerves swirled over my body, and I instinctively began to rub my neck glands. My other hand wandered to the edge of my nest and tugged at the fabric in a frantic gesture.

In one quick motion, Archer reached out and grabbed my hand, holding it still. Just like yesterday, a strong shiver ran through my body—almost like a jolt of electricity.

"Everything’s going to be okay, River. I promise. Just give it time."

I stared at his hand, big and strong around mine. That shiver still buzzed under my skin, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from our hands clasped together.

Some quiet ambiance settled in the room. My eyelids fell shut, as if I wanted to block out the world. I sank deeper into Archer’s energy, flowing through our joined fingers.

At first, it was just calming—soothing, pushing the stress away. But then, it became something more—strangely sweet, enticing, like a slow, teasing stroke. I could swear I felt his emotions. Which, of course, wasn’t possible, right?

But for a split second, I saw myself in his eyes—a trembling, small body, my lips red and my eyes closed.

Then I realized my throat had made an AO sound—a low, calling sound, a rare sound from what I knew.

It meant, ‘Help me’, and no modern omega used it too eagerly. But the energy it evoked was therapeutic in itself. Asking for help may have been very challenging and shameful for most people. But for me, it was simply liberating.

And Archer answered my call—with a deep, long, soothing sound that just drew me closer to him.

I opened my eyes and worked up the courage to do even more. My fingers brushed against Archer’s thumb, sparks almost jumping between our skin. My breath caught in my chest.

His energy enveloped me in a cocoon, making me forget the stress, leaving only… hunger.

Slowly, I untangled my fingers from his and traced them over the back of his hand, along the prominent veins on his forearm, then up to his massive bicep and his shoulder. My touch lingered on his neck gland. I felt almost hypnotized, being in such intimate contact with his warm skin.

Archer had his eyes closed, surrendering to my touch, almost like he was listening to it.

"So nice," he whispered, with a sigh.

Encouraged, I lifted my hand and lightly brushed his jawline, then his lower lip. That’s when his eyes opened, and suddenly, he was looking right at me. We were so close now—because at some point, I’d half-crawled out of the nest toward him.

Up close, Archer looked so young. His skin still had that youthful softness, smooth and free of any imperfections. His eyes were a clear, crystalline blue, and for a moment, I let myself drown in them before the words slipped out of me:

"Kiss me. I want it, Archer."

I saw the faint twitch in his expression—surprise, maybe even a little disbelief—that I’d asked.

"River, it’s only been three days."

"Archer, please. For all these years, I hated myself for liking our first kiss. I want to replace it with something I won’t regret."

Archer’s gaze drifted down to my lips. "I never felt guilty about it. For me, that memory was always a perfect one."

"It was inappropriate. I want this to be our first kiss."

Archer kept staring at my lips, not saying anything.

I could smell him—fresh, like a mountain storm mixed with the earthy scent of a forest after rain. Sadly, it wasn’t his Allure but his shower gel, though I hoped the scent was close to his own. As for me, I consciously chose cosmetics that smelled of strawberries and dahlias—maybe he did the same?

"What do you really smell like, River?" Archer whispered, his lips now just two inches from mine. He obviously had a similar dilemma.

"Thomas said I smell like dahlias and strawberries," I breathed out.

"When I kissed you back then, I could taste a hint of that. It was amazing."

His lips moved even closer. Now only one inch separated us, and my heart pounded as fast as it did that day he first kissed me.

"River. Red River…" he whispered, and then he did it.

The magic started again.

It began the same way as before—a soft brush of his lips against mine, barely a touch, then pressing more firmly. My whole body trembled—I closed my eyes, giving in to it. Archer tasted like blueberry juice, and I let myself sink into that taste. His tongue gently teased my lower lip, lightly grazing it before slipping inside with deliberate slowness.

Our tongues met, and after seven years, they greeted each other in an intimate dance. My head spun—I was literally dizzy. My fingers gripped the fabric of his T-shirt at his chest, not wanting it to end. The very thought of him pulling away terrified me, so I wrapped my arms around his neck, practically throwing myself against him.

His hands rested on my back. One of them grabbed my hair, wrapping it around his wrist, pulling my head slightly back. His lips left mine and trailed down to my neck gland. I let out a sultry moan when I felt him lightly bite and suck on it.

This escalated oddly quickly; my pulse picked up, matching his, my excitement skyrocketed.

As Archer's closeness enveloped me, my blood flowed downward, my dick grew hard, throbbing, threatening to explode, and my hole clenched—I almost lost it. My whole body felt like it was drowning in a haze of pink and red. I cried out—a sound that wasn’t even a moan anymore but a primal omega mating call. Why was it building up so intensely?

My nails dug into his skin, and Archer let out a low, deep growl in response. I felt his teeth sink harder into my gland, and another raw, instinctual sound tore from my throat—a plea for him to claim me.

And then, right at that moment, Igor’s voice cut through the air behind us:

"If you two would stop sucking each other’s necks like perverts for a second, maybe one of you would care that some beta kid just showed up. Says he’s here to help with the obstacle course."

My face burned. Did he really have to walk in at the worst possible moment? Like one of those dumb movies where everything good gets interrupted.

I muttered a curse under my breath as Archer let go of me and stood up.

"Yeah, that’s Milo—Oliver’s nephew. Some parts of the climbing wall need someone taller to help stabilize it while I work on the screws, and Van can’t handle it alone."

Well, it was obvious who could help here if he wanted to. Igor got the message, but he stared at Archer with such outright aversion that it made me uneasy.

"By the way," Archer added as he turned toward the door, "you’ll be going to school with Milo. He’s exactly your age. You could hang around."

Without another word, he walked away, leaving me alone with Igor.

"I hope you know you’re acting like a whore," Igor said icily, his hostile gaze piercing me. "I heard that sound. I know what you just begged Archer to do!"

And I snapped.

I knew I could’ve handled it differently, but I let myself get provoked.

"And you’re acting like a perfect candidate for the alpha boot camp! Anyone else would've sent you there by now for this kind of disrespect! Maybe they’d teach you some respect for a parent there!"

The room fell into a heavy silence. Igor stared at me, wide-eyed, and I could see the anger rising in him.

"You know what? I shouldn’t have opened the door for Sam and Stephen! You’d still be locked in your room instead of insulting our father by slutting around, and I’d be taking care of our business!"

We locked eyes.

I was tempted to keep going, but I knew this was his way of challenging me—hiding how hurt and lost he felt over Thomas’s death. Despite his physical limitations, Thomas had been a massive influence on our sons, always mentoring them from his giant armchair at the kitchen table.

Now, Archer had taken that role. And taken… me.

"You’re trying to hurt me, so I’ll feel as miserable and lost as you do. What’s that going to achieve, Igor? That’s not what leaders do. Leaders uplift people, bring order, repair things. You? You just drag us down into chaos."

"Drag us down? That’s what grief is, Dad—feeling like shit. Maybe you should try it for a change! Father deserved at least that."

"Father ate himself to death, Igor!" I yelled, fists clenched.

Igor paled, his gray-green eyes locking onto mine in horror.

"He tanked the business! We lost our house! Our accounts are wiped out—mine included. I worked my ass off to save money, and it’s all gone. The creditors took everything! And me? I haven’t had a day of vacation in almost twenty years! I had to medicate myself for years to stop my heats! So enough with idolizing him! If I hadn’t fought tooth and nail to secure separate accounts, you and your brothers wouldn’t even have college funds. I clawed that money back for your future, while he let everything fall apart, stuffing his face for years!"

Igor staggered back a step, the muscles in his jaw clenching. I took a deep breath and forced myself to speak in a calmer voice.

"I’m doing everything I can to keep us afloat, Igor. If everyone was so against reconnecting with my parents, then Archer became our only option. Call it whatever you want—even whoring. But we’re living in a better house, in better conditions, and Archer is paying the bills. I call it a life-changing opportunity we should all be grateful for!"

Igor’s expression twisted with bitterness. He looked toward the window, as if processing my words, but the verdict wasn’t in my favor. His lips trembled slightly as he spoke.

"I don’t ask for much. A month, Dad. You couldn’t wait a little longer before jumping onto Archer’s dick?"

I huffed. "Let me repeat it—I started mourning years ago when your father refused to change his lifestyle. And now we’re all paying the price for his mistake. Including you. Can’t you see it?"

Igor stayed silent, his brow furrowed deeply.

After a moment, he just turned and walked out, and I let out a loud breath.

Right. Not much progress, at least between me and Igor. For a minute, I just stood there, inhaling and exhaling, trying to cleanse my body of all the negative energy.

Once again, I felt relieved that Archer was in charge now.

No matter what I said, my reasoning just bounced off Igor’s mind.

I wasn’t a perfect parent—far from it. Maybe recognizing that was just as important as acknowledging my strengths? Now, stepping aside was the right thing to do. It was time for me to be more humble and not let my pride get the better of me.

Slowly, I walked to the window and looked outside.

Archer, Van, Aiden, Lake, and a skinny teenager—probably Oliver’s nephew, Milo—were working on the obstacle course. Building something. Working together.

Igor, of course, was nowhere to be seen, as if he didn't want to be a part of our family anymore.

Family…?

I closed my eyes for a second.

Don’t think. Don’t think. Calm down, River. Give it time.

In the empty space I forced myself to create inside, my thoughts drifted back to what Archer had told me—he’d met some members of my… original family.

Family I had been part of ages ago. No longer, though.

I’d lost them because Thomas didn’t want to share me with them, and they didn’t want to share me with him. And now, I was still keeping that distance—out of my own pride.

They had been right from the start.

No matter the circumstances, I had created my own mess. I had chosen this path in life. Now I had to deal with the consequences—no sugarcoating.

Was I really that different from Thomas? He had failed and run away. What would my future be?

***

The next few days passed pretty much the same way, except I worked from 8 to 12. I remembered what Oliver had told me—that Archer had suggested I take a break from my job—but I wasn’t ready to have that conversation with him yet, even though I so wanted to.

Working at the customer office of some anonymous corporation was draining me. From time to time, I glanced at my violin case lying on the bed, the urge to stand up and play growing inside me.

Could I ever have a job related to music? I was pessimistic. I only had a music high school diploma and an associate degree in Communications and Business Administration. Despite working part-time, I was so mentally exhausted after just a few hours that I was constantly fighting drowsiness, barely winning.

Archer, on the other hand, worked full-time as a security tester, but his schedule was split into two parts—7 to 11 am, then after his midday break, from 5 to 9 pm.

In the mornings, the boys usually hung out with Oliver by the pool or played on the finished sections of the obstacle course.

Lake and Aiden often cared for the chickens and spent time near the coop. After lunch, Archer would join them for exercise sessions before continuing to build the course. Sometimes, they’d head down to the lake with him to swim.

At night, after 10 pm, Archer and I met for our late-night jerking-off sessions.

But we didn’t repeat the kiss. I had a feeling Archer knew exactly where that could lead—and he didn’t want to risk it.

Every morning, Archer picked up Igor for jogging, which my son now joined without protest.

From what I knew, they ran in total silence—not much progress there. Other than that, Igor didn’t participate in any other activities. He mostly stayed in his room, editing videos and shorts from old footage he’d recorded before Thomas passed or streaming live while playing computer games.

School was supposed to start on Monday, but on Saturday, Archer took Van to a climbing center in Darton. Van had been ecstatic.

Thomas had never taken him to such a place, even discouraging him from pursuing it, which had left Van frustrated and unhappy. Seeing Archer support his passion meant a lot to him. They were gone for a couple of hours, and when they came back, it was obvious—Van had a new idol.

Archer’s energy seemed endless. After returning, he spent two hours with Lake, helping him plant new vegetables in the greenhouse. Lake especially wanted a bed of green peas, which he loved, and since we were in a southern state, now was the right time to sow them.

Later, Archer listened to Lake play his keyboard, then headed to the pool with Aiden to teach him how to dive. Aiden was afraid to put his head underwater without pinching his nose, but Archer was patient with him.

I was impressed by how much time and effort Archer put into bonding with my kids. He made sure to spend time with each and every one of them, and the result was obvious—they all flocked around him, competing for his attention.

His youth gave him an unexpected advantage—he simply had more energy and could engage with them on their level. He probably still remembered what it was like to be a young boy himself.

There were moments during the day when I’d be sitting on the couch with Archer beside me, and just as I was savoring the closeness, Lake would squeeze himself between us, eagerly showing Archer his latest drawings on the tablet, asking for his opinion.

I’d steal glances at Archer’s impressive biceps, so close yet just out of reach, my fingers itching to touch him. But with Lake’s curly golden head blocking my view of Archer’s face, I could only sit back and sigh.

Of course, I truly appreciated how much he did for my kids—how patient and kind he was with them. But a selfish part of me wished I could have him to myself, even for a little while.

At one point, our eyes met, and I managed to give him a small, wistful smile. He held my gaze for a second longer than necessary, and my heart squeezed. Being a parent meant there was never enough time for romance, but God, I missed it. I wanted it. More than I could put into words.

***

On Sunday, Archer suggested a hike up a nearby mountain. We both went to Igor’s room to let him know he was expected to come with us. He accepted in silence, his expression unreadable.

We also invited Milo, who was happy to join. Igor ignored him entirely, even though they were about to be in the same class the next day.

As we started the climb, Igor followed, but if I thought this would help him integrate, I was dead wrong.

Van, Milo, and Aiden led the way while Archer walked beside me, with Lake perched happily on his shoulders. He loved riding up there and had thrown a little fit until Archer finally gave in—despite my protests that, at seven, he was more than capable of walking on his own.

But his pouting mouth was enough to make Archer cave, just like Thomas used to. I’d noticed they both had a soft spot for Lake, spoiling him the second he looked up at them with those big eyes and that cute, full-lipped smile.

I wasn’t exactly thrilled about it. I never believed omegas should be treated like little princes right from the start—it could turn them into spoiled brats who learned to use their looks to manipulate people. But making sure Lake grew up kind and grounded, without turning entitled, somehow ended up being my job alone.

I knew Archer sensed Lake’s omega nature, and unlike with the other boys, he didn’t feel the need to regulate his energy too much. But I was still determined to raise him into a good person, not some pampered little prince—even if it felt like everyone else was against me, letting Lake off the hook way too easily.

At one point, Archer seemed to sense my need to be… a little closer to him, so he reached for me, and we walked like that, holding hands.

It was… so pleasant.

Meanwhile, Igor trailed behind us at a distance, silent and gloomy, probably staring at our joined hands.

A few times, I turned toward him, and tried starting a conversation, but he only gave one-word answers. Even when we reached the summit—with its breathtaking view of the lake by Archer’s house and Darton visible in the distance—Igor stood several feet away, scowling, saying nothing.

I stared at the lake for a while, quiet as well, my eyes fixed on the small islet in the middle, covered with trees and bushes. There was something about it that strangely drew me in.

Archer was chatting with the younger boys, and I felt happy seeing how their bond was growing stronger by the day. They had fully warmed up to him, constantly competing for his approval.

But Igor… His silence was almost worse than his previous hostility. I had no idea what was going on in his head.

After we got back later that evening, I went to his room to try and talk.

The conversation went like this:

"How are you feeling? You were so quiet on the hike."

Not a word. His gray-green eyes stared into mine.

"Are you sure you don’t want to give Archer a chance?"

Silence.

"At some point, you’re going to have to decide. Are you moving forward or staying stuck?"

Still nothing.

"We’re here, Igor. We’re not going anywhere. Please… make the best of this situation."

And… nothing.

Was my relationship with Archer the final nail in the coffin for him?

The only person he occasionally exchanged words with was… Oliver.

A couple of times, I overheard their brief conversations. One in particular stood out, giving me a glimpse into Igor’s mindset.

In the morning, right after Igor and Archer came back from jogging, I was in the laundry room in the basement when I heard a muffled conversation coming from the kitchen. I moved closer to the stairs to hear better.

"…I saved two cutlets for you. They’re super tasty. Van was about to scarf them down, but I stopped him just in time."

"Thanks."

A pause.

"Don’t you like them?"

"They’re good."

Another pause.

"This move isn’t making you happy, is it? You don’t like Archer?"

There was no answer.

"You know, when he first hired me, I didn’t like him either. He’s such a classic alpha, always acting like he’s gotta be the top dog. Took me a while to warm up to him."

"How long is ‘a while’? You’ve only been working here since winter break—when Archer graduated from college."

"Archer actually came here earlier for summer break. He spent the whole summer here. That’s when I got to know him better. He’s not so bad."

"Wow, ‘not so bad’. What a glowing review. I’m totally convinced now," Igor said wryly.

Oliver just laughed.

"Fair point. But you know, you’re more like him than you think. Before Archer moved in, his uncle lived here for a year—I worked for him. He first told me about Archer. When they took Archer away from his dad, he weighed as much as a three-year-old, being, in fact, five. He didn’t want to leave his room either because… well, he missed his dad, even though the guy was an addict who barely took care of him."

A moment of silence; I wondered why Igor was even listening to the story about Archer. I expected him to say, ‘I don’t give a shit,’ but strangely, he didn’t.

Maybe it was part of the ‘get to know your enemy’ strategy?

"Archer used to sneak out of the house to eat—raiding neighbors’ fridges or stealing food from dog and cat bowls in their yards. His drunk dad would leave him alone for the whole day, and sometimes, when he finally came back, he was with a guy. Archer would hide under the bed to avoid getting beaten by the random men his dad brought home. And yet, when they took Archer away, he still cried and missed the only parent he knew."

Oliver paused, as if waiting for Igor’s reaction, but there was none.

"Archer could barely speak. His father had to drag him out of his room just to get him to engage with life again. He used food to lure him out. Archer ate like crazy and grew fast. His father was so shocked at how much he ate, he actually worried he’d get fat. That’s when he got him into working out. And, well… that habit stuck."

When Igor didn’t answer, Oliver finally added, "It’ll work out, you’ll see. The sun always rises after the dark."

"He won’t win me over with food and exercise. I’m not five, and I have principles," Igor said coldly. A few moments later, I heard him leave the kitchen.

Not great, but not terrible either. The fact that he was talking to someone at all felt like another piece of progress. Even if only a tiny one.

***

The first week of school passed.

All my sons—except Igor—came home with good news. They liked their new school, and so far, no one had any problems. In the evenings, when I sat with them to help with homework, they’d share stories about their classmates and new friends.

But not Igor.

By the second week, the obstacle course was finished, and it was impressive—super creative, too. There were climbing walls, ropes, swings made from tires, circles to jump through, a net stretched over a sandy area for crawling, a tunnel, thin poles for balancing, and a bunch of other features. I was blown away. Archer had built it all with a lot of help from the boys.

Aiden, in particular, was almost glued to Archer’s side, helping enthusiastically—handing him screws, holding things in place. I was so proud of him. Van helped a lot too, especially with assembling the climbing walls. And Lake was eagerly testing everything. Archer had spent a small fortune on the equipment.

Watching him work with the boys by his side, I’d sometimes tear up. Thomas, because of his weight, could never have spent time with them like this. Now, my sons were having a completely different experience, and I was grateful. Instead of being on their phones, they were outside, active.

One day, I noticed Milo joining in on the obstacle course fun, racing with my boys, and that gave me an idea.

I watched through the window, waiting for a moment when Milo was alone. That only happened after Oliver brought them lemonade. Milo went to the bathroom, and as he came out, I caught up with him.

"Hey, Milo!"

He raised his eyebrows slightly and nodded at me.

"Can I ask you something?"

He looked a little surprised but followed me to the living room, flopping onto the couch. I sat down next to him.

He was a lanky teenager, presenting as a beta, with curly black hair and light amber eyes framed by long lashes. He was pretty but very skinny, with slightly hunched shoulders—it was obvious he could use more exercise on the obstacle course.

"I wanted to ask how Igor’s doing at school. It’s been a week and a half, and he hasn’t said a word about it."

Milo made a weird face, stayed quiet for a moment, then scratched his cheek.

"Well… Igor’s been keeping to himself a lot in class. I’m not sure that’s such a good thing."

I blinked, surprised. "What do you mean?"

Milo shrugged. "The alphas in our class are pretty mean. They like picking on anyone who stands out."

I still wasn’t sure what he meant. "Igor stands out how? By walking around looking miserable?"

"That too. They’ve also been teasing him about his looks."

That caught me off guard. "His looks?"

"Yeah. They say he’s as pretty as an omega and make fun of him. He gets really upset, and the more they see it bothers him, the more they tease him."

It had only been a week and a half and this was already happening? I sat there in silence, at a loss for words.

I had never thought something like that could be a reason to tease anybody—my experience as an omega had been the complete opposite. Back in high school, I constantly heard how beautiful and gorgeous I was. Every compliment was meant in a positive way. Almost all alphas were interested in me—I was considered the most attractive omega in school. It never crossed my mind that good looks could be used for mockery.

But… Igor was an alpha.

And in a twisted way, I couldn’t help but feel partly responsible—it was my genes that gave him that feature. Thomas (and Archer, for that matter) was handsome in a very classic, masculine way: chiseled, symmetrical features. But he didn’t have that extra charm my DNA had thrown into the mix—long lashes, full lips, big eyes. You’d think that’d be a good thing, but… turned out, teenage alphas were judged differently from teenage omegas.

"So, is this a serious problem or just playful teasing?" I inquired.

Milo shrugged again, avoiding eye contact. "At first, I didn’t think much of it. On the first day, Philip made some comment, everyone laughed, but Igor got pissed. I guess if he’d just acted like he didn’t care, the whole thing would’ve been forgotten. But instead, he’s walking around all angry, and people are starting to notice. He’s an easy target now—provoking him… it’s entertaining for them."

I studied Milo’s face for a moment.

"Igor’s going through a tough time right now, with his father’s death and all. He’s not happy about the move either. It makes him vulnerable."

Milo looked like he didn’t know what to say, and honestly, I wasn’t sure how I should react to all of this.

"Alright. Thanks for telling me. I have a favor to ask, though—if anything bad happens, let us know, okay? Just make sure Igor doesn’t find out."

Milo nodded hesitantly. He looked like he wanted to say something else but decided against it.

When Archer got back with the boys after practice, and we all sat down for dinner, I spent some time watching Igor, who had finally emerged from his room to join us.

He looked the same as always—sullen, staring down at his plate.

When dinner was over and Archer headed upstairs to work, I followed him.

I knocked lightly, and he opened the door with a slightly surprised look.

"Sorry to bother you—I know you wanted to get to work, but there’s something important I need to talk about."

Archer gestured toward his bed.

I glanced at it. Most nights, that’s where I’d spread my legs, present him my hole, and… climax. But this wasn’t going to be one of those moments.

"I wanted to bring up something Milo told me—"

"About Igor having trouble at school? I already know. Milo told me a few days ago."

I stared at him, genuinely shocked. He really seemed invested in what was happening with my kids—he knew what was going on before I did?

"Do you think it’s serious?"

Archer took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, resting one elbow on his desk as he drummed his fingers against the surface.

"I talked to Milo and Oliver about the kids giving him a hard time. It’s Philip Glen and Josef Hanson. They live in downtown Darton, come from rich families—spoiled brats, really. They’re bored and think picking on the ‘new kid’ is fun."

"I’d rather this not escalate. Igor’s unhappy and withdrawn right now, and that makes him an easy target for bullies. That kind of energy just draws them in—they see it as weakness."

Archer tilted his head slightly.

"Yes. There are three ways we can handle this. We could leave it alone and see how it plays out—maybe Igor will stand up for himself and earn their respect. We could also report it to the school. Or we could prepare Igor in case things ever escalate physically."

"I like the idea of reporting it to the school, but on the other hand, kids hate snitches. It can turn into real hatred against him."

"I think we should wait a few more days."

"And what if it keeps going?"

"It’s too early to predict how this will play out. Some comments are just silly jokes, while others are explicit remarks about his looks. They may drop it, or he might stand up to them and make them leave him alone, which would be the ideal outcome. But on the other hand, if those boys keep pushing him, he may be more willing to cooperate with me."

"Cooperate with you? How?"

"I could train him in self-defense."

I almost jumped in place. "You want him to fight them?"

A strange mood settled over the room. Archer was watching me intently.

I cleared my throat, feeling my head spin. "Thomas always taught him to let things go in situations like this. To walk away, avoid arguments and fights."

"River, you can’t walk away from everything. Not when you’re an alpha. Otherwise, one day you might end up walking away from taking care of your own family."

Boom.

There it was. The jab at Thomas couldn’t have been more obvious, just like the fact that Archer’s approach to guiding Igor was almost the exact opposite of my late husband’s.

Silence stretched between us. Archer’s face remained calm and unreadable.

"The problem is, you’ve been training for years, but Igor has no idea what he’s doing. I bet those boys are more experienced than him, and that makes this risky," I blurted out.

Archer didn’t say a word.

Our eyes met, and I knew exactly what he was thinking.

Suddenly, it all made sense—why he said I wasn’t ready to be truly submissive to him.

He was right. I wasn’t. Not because I didn’t want to be, but because I was so overwhelmed by everything happening—so all over the place, so lost—that I couldn’t trust other people’s judgment or let myself relax. Subconsciously, I still couldn’t give Archer the benefit of the doubt, even though I’d promised I would.

"Alright. We’ll do it your way. We’ll wait a few days," I whispered, surrendering.

Archer remained silent.

Now, I had to fight my fear for Igor’s safety alone. I reminded myself that this was normal—young alphas fought all the time. They competed, they clashed for position, almost like animals. I couldn’t just panic and… what?

Take him out of school? Overprotecting him would only make him more stubborn, and set in his ways. I had to give Archer a chance.

I stood up and muttered, "Alright, I’ll leave you to it. I don’t want to interrupt your work."

Walking away, I felt bad, but I told myself to be patient. I decided not to ask Milo about the situation again for at least a week.

"River…"

Archer’s voice was surprisingly warm, almost tender, like he could see right through me.

"I think you should take a break from work. A vacation. For years, you fought for six people, kept your family afloat while Thomas guzzled it away. Take some time to… just be with yourself. The kids are in school half the day. Do something you love—play, walk, swim, relax, refuel."

I closed my eyes, feeling a sob threaten to escape my throat.

How was he reading my mind like this?

"Okay. Thank you, Archer… I appreciate it."

"I got you. All of you."

I was so grateful I could almost cry, but… my happiness didn’t last.

It was almost like Fate didn’t want me to relax and enjoy my vacation.

***

The second week of Igor’s school ended on Friday. That afternoon, I was lounging in the pool, enjoying a rare moment of peace.

Oliver had offered to pick up the younger kids since they got out earlier that day. Igor, however, had classes until 4 pm.

Archer stepped outside and spotted me in the pool.

He walked closer, his eyes slightly hooded.

"I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself."

I blushed. "As a matter of fact, I am… thanks to you."

A short pause.

Then, casually, he added, "Oliver has a shopping list. Maybe we could pick up Igor together and grab everything while we’re out?"

I nodded and climbed out of the pool. Archer’s gaze flickered downward, but there wasn’t much to see—I was wearing a long-sleeved swim shirt and knee-length shorts.

"It’s not that cold," he muttered, narrowing his eyes.

"I’m a redhead. It’s basically the same as being a vampire—I burn in the sun way too easily."

Archer laughed—a real, spontaneous laugh—and it made my chest tighten. I rarely heard him laugh like that.

"Perfect explanation," he said. "Though maybe we could swim together… on a cloudy day."

I bit my lip. "I’d love that. I have a thermal suit, actually… perfect for cloudy, cold days. Full-body cover."

Archer was crackling with laughter, so infectious that I even chuckled.

"You are hilarious, really. I have to buy a jacuzzi with some kind of overhead cover. No excuses then!"

I sent him a coy smile. While walking around him, I made sure to sway my hips a bit more than usual. Why not?

Not long after, I changed and got into the car. Archer was already inside. He glanced at me and said, "Your hair’s still a little wet."

"Yeah, I didn’t want to keep you waiting."

"River, I don’t mind waiting for you."

We stared at each other for a moment, some energy almost vibrating between us. A rare moment when we were alone during the day…

Then, before I could overthink it, I acted on impulse.

I lifted myself up just enough to reach him and kissed him—wet, open-mouthed.

And just then, my body shivered—strongly, like I’d been electrocuted.

What was it about him? Why did he affect me like this?

It took everything in me to pull back and settle into my seat. Archer didn’t say anything, but the long glance he gave me made my cheeks burn. Was I behaving awkwardly? Did he prefer to take things at a more gradual pace? I wasn’t sure, but the whole drive, I was discreetly stealing glances at his muscular thighs, flat stomach, and massive chest, quiet sighs escaping me.

The drive to the school was almost too short.

When we pulled into the parking lot, we spotted a group of kids gathered on the steps outside the school building. They were talking and gesturing animatedly. Milo was among them, looking very anxious.

The moment he saw us, he headed straight over, and we stepped out of the car.

After a short greeting—interestingly—he looked directly at Archer as he said, "Igor just got into a fight with Philip. Like, ten minutes ago. He’s with the school nurse right now."

It felt like my heart cracked in two. Igor in a fight? My kid, my son?!

Overwhelmed by a mix of despair and… anger, I swore under my breath. Without thinking, I turned to Archer, ready to yell, See? This is what your waiting led to!

But our gazes locked.

And I stopped in the middle of the move. I was sure he could see the storm brewing inside me, but he stayed completely unfazed.

He looked like he was waiting for me to lash out at him, to lose it, to show him how I didn’t give a shit about his leadership.

But as I stood there, staring at him, I realized… that wasn’t what I truly wanted. I was the one who said no to snitching, after all! Archer had raised the option to report it to the school, but I rejected it. What I needed was to give him a chance, even though everything felt like it was falling apart.

"Take us there, please," Archer said casually to Milo.

Milo nodded, his eyes briefly flicking to Archer’s calm visage.

He turned toward the building, and we followed. I stayed silent, my frustration simmering. How was Archer planning to fix this?

We entered the school, and Milo led us to the nurse’s office.

The door was open, and we could hear voices inside.

Igor was sitting on the edge of a cot while the school nurse—an older omega—cleaned up a cut on his lip.

Two teachers were in the room as well, one of whom I guessed was the school counselor.

My eyes fixed on my son. Seeing him here, surrounded by strangers, was a lot to take in.

His lower lip was quite swollen, and another bruise was forming on his cheek.

My boy… I wanted to rush over and hug him, but the moment he saw me, his expression stopped me in my tracks. He was furious—cold, boiling rage just beneath the surface.

My despair only grew. We were so far apart.

"Good afternoon, I’m River Monroe. I’m Igor’s dad," I said, stepping inside. "And this is his legal guardian, Archer Wilson."

The two teachers, both betas, turned to glance at us. The taller one, a stocky man with thick black hair and glasses, stepped forward and shook my hand.

"Good timing. I’m afraid I have bad news—Igor attacked one of his classmates—"

"He looks more like the one who got attacked," I snapped, unable to hold back.

The teacher cleared his throat. "We’re still piecing together the details. I’m Principal Vernon, and this is the school counselor, Dean Nelson."

Now I remembered—I had seen him in passing when we were here two weeks ago enrolling the kids, but I had only spoken with the vice principal, not him personally.

The counselor, a short man with a big beard, gave a nervous smile as he shook my hand, then Archer’s, though he avoided meeting our eyes.

"How’s the other boy doing?" Archer asked, his calm tone only fueling my irritation.

The principal cleared his throat again. "He’s fine. He defended himself… effectively."

"So effectively, that Igor is the one sitting in the nurse’s office," Archer said coolly. "Not the supposed victim?"

There was an awkward pause, during which I started to wonder why I had even been mad at Archer in the parking lot. He was unequivocally on my side.

"As far as we know, those boys have been bullying Igor since his first day—" I began, but the principal interrupted me.

"But none of them resorted to violence first."

Archer crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you a psychologist?" he asked, shifting his gaze to the counselor.

The man blinked, a little surprised, and nodded.

"Then you know how teenage alphas behave. If a boy is called ‘pretty omega’ for two weeks and told his lips would be great for blowjobs, at some point, he’s going to snap. That’s part of an alpha’s nature, which I hope you’re aware of as a professional."

Archer's voice was deep and strong, making an impression. I stared at him as well, feeling pretty upset because this was the first time I had heard this detail about the bullying.

Principal Vernon cleared his throat even louder.

"I want to start by saying that we’re willing to sweep this whole incident under the rug, given that Igor recently lost his father, and transitions like these are typically very challenging."

I had no intention of letting this slide. What I’d just heard infuriated me beyond belief.

"This kind of behavior is unacceptable—it’s sexual harassment!" I snapped, feeling my blood boil.

The principal turned toward me and winced slightly, probably reacting to the high-pitched tone of my voice. "They were just boys joking around, and it was Igor who lashed out first. I’d suggest we leave things as they are because the alternative is suspending Igor for starting a violent attack on another student," Mr. Vernon said sharply.

I let out an exasperated sigh. "Are you serious? So what’s your plan then? If the harassment continues, is Igor supposed to report every single incident to the school counselor?"

"Yes, that could be a good starting point, and we’ll decide from there whether the matter warrants further intervention," Principal Vernon replied firmly.

"So, let me get this straight." Archer’s tone was disturbingly cold. "Igor is supposed to snitch on his classmates while allowing them to call him names and humiliate him in front of his peers without any other reaction. Did I get that right?"

When no one answered, Archer added, "Now, here’s my counterproposal. Next time, Igor hits one of those boys hard enough to flip the script, and since this is a ‘transitional period’, we can just sweep that incident under the rug too. Sound good?"

Both men, and the omega nurse, were now focused on Archer, looking a bit dismayed. Even Igor, who had been sitting with his head bowed the entire time, finally raised it to look at Archer, though it was impossible to read what he was feeling.

Principal Vernon, however, pulled himself together first. He straightened his posture and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, Igor has been very honest with us, Mr. Wilson. That’s one of the reasons I proposed sweeping this under the rug in the first place. From what Igor has shared, you’ve been his guardian for only two weeks, and instead of focusing on your responsibilities, you’re busy sexually entertaining his dad. Clearly, your influence isn’t the best if the boy is resorting to violence this early in his time at our school. I think we should consider involving Family Services to evaluate whether Igor’s current environment is safe for him."

I immediately looked at Igor, whose face turned slightly red as if he regretted snitching on us to Principal Vernon. His animosity toward Archer was now backfiring on his own case.

"Based on what Igor has told us, you’re using pretty brutal training methods with him. Perhaps FS should take a closer look at how a twenty-two-year-old is fulfilling his duties as a guardian," Principal Vernon continued mercilessly.

I felt like I was about to explode like a grenade.

Archer, however, remained completely composed.

"I can see how much you care about Igor’s well-being, indeed. I’m touched. Surely, none of that care includes suggesting that Igor would be better off experiencing ‘brutal training methods’ in an alpha boot camp instead? A ‘safer environment’? Statistically, one in five alphas there becomes a victim of gang rape. Especially the ‘pretty’ ones. But being a beta, you’d be happy to get rid of yet another troublesome alpha boy from your perfect school. So this outcome would suit you best, wouldn’t it?"

Principal Vernon’s jaw tightened, the muscles in his face twitching as he clenched it hard.

Archer tilted his head slightly. "By all means, invite the FS enforcers to evaluate Igor’s current ‘dreadful’ situation. In the meantime, I consider this conversation over. As you said yourself, the matter has been swept under the rug, am I right?"

To my absolute astonishment, the first person to follow Archer’s lead was Igor. He got up and headed for the door. Only then did I notice Milo still standing there in the shadows, peeking from behind the doorframe, watching everything unfold with great interest.

Without saying goodbye to either the principal or the school counselor, I hurried after Igor, Milo, and Archer.

In less than a minute, we were out of the building.

As we descended the stairs, Milo suddenly said to Archer, "Principal Vernon is a real scumbag. With Philip’s dad being his cousin and regularly sponsoring various school projects, it’s no wonder that idiot takes his side by default."

"Relax. My cousin Jan has good connections with the editor-in-chief of East Times Magazine . If it comes to that, he can help publicize this. Sexual harassment of a student is no joke, and threatening parents with FS? I’m sure the Board of Education will want to look into a situation where the principal and school counselor take no action," Archer replied calmly.

Milo nodded and suddenly murmured, "Oh, by the way. I’ve got what you asked for."

I didn’t understand what he meant. I glanced at him, then at Archer, who smirked slightly.

"Perfect. Perfect. You’re coming home with us. I want to talk to you," Archer muttered.

I had no idea what this was about, but from the look on Archer’s face, I knew better than to ask in front of Igor. Though my son had walked slightly ahead of us, he turned back, just as clueless.

We all got into the car.

My mind was a total mess, so jumbled I didn’t even know where to start. As always, in moments like these, I felt paralyzed by my emotions. I was angry—at Igor, at the principal, at myself—but definitely the least angry at Archer. I had a gut feeling that everything that had happened wasn’t as random or out of control as I’d initially assumed.

Igor stared out the window the entire drive home.

Milo sat on the other side, furiously typing on his phone. I was almost certain he was sharing this whole ordeal with his classmates—it was probably a huge piece of gossip for them.

When we arrived home, Archer gestured toward Milo, and the two of them disappeared into the basement—heading to Archer’s gym. The door shut behind them.

The rest of the kids were already home. They ran out to greet us but froze mid-step the moment they saw Igor’s swollen face.

He went straight to his room, but I wasn’t about to let the whole situation go.

Oh, no! I followed him immediately.

"I’ve got just one question for you, Igor," I said as soon as he sat down at his computer.

He didn’t even look at me, keeping his eyes glued to the screen.

"If you really prefer ending up at one of the alpha boot camps, you need to just tell me. Why are we all fighting if you've already decided you'll do absolutely everything to make that happen? Maybe you should just call them straight away and have them come pick you up already?"

Igor grimaced slightly, but the expression seemed to pain him. He raised a hand to his face, lightly touching his split lip.

"Why even involve Principal Vernon? We can just call them now!"

In a rather theatrical gesture, I took my phone and smacked it onto Igor’s keyboard, making him twitch slightly.

"In a normal situation, I’d feel sorry for you, Igor, but the fact that you went to complain to people who don’t actually have your best interests at heart—the same people who side with the bullies—tells me you’re desperate to end up at one of those nice camps as soon as possible!"

I lowered myself over him slightly and narrowed my eyes.

"What happens in those camps is no joke. Here at school, they call you a ‘pretty alpha’ and make sexual remarks about you. That’s just a small taste of what they’d call you in the camp. You’d regret throwing away the chance at a normal life, just because you hate Archer so much."

But Igor didn’t seem to hear me. Again, it was exactly as Archer said. I was speaking a different language—we just couldn’t communicate with each other.

"From the day we got here, you stopped being my dad and turned into his whore!" he snapped. "Do you actually care if I end up being everybody’s whore in the camp?"

I closed my eyes, feeling my energy drain. A wall. An unbreakable barrier. No connection.

"Alright, so what now? Tell me, Igor, what do you think I should do here? What’s your perfect scenario?"

Igor shot me a sideways glance.

"I had a plan. I was going to apply for early legal adulthood. That way, I wouldn’t need a guardian, and we wouldn’t have had to come to Archer."

"Do you not understand that you’d go into Musth ?"

"So what? I’d mature physically into a full alpha in a few months, and that would only make everything better—"

I grabbed my head in frustration. He was completely out of touch with reality.

"Do you even know what happens to teenage alphas in Musth ? There was a family living just a few miles from us—a father ran off with a new omega, abandoning his kids. His sixteen-year-old son took over his ‘responsibilities’. The kid started by locking his dad in a room and taking away his phone. And when Musth fully kicked in, he raped him! Over and over. He didn’t stop until someone at the omega’s work noticed his absence and sent people to investigate."

For the first time since Thomas died, I saw that expression on Igor’s face: panic and disgust. He shivered and clenched his fists.

"I would never do that! Have you lost your mind? I’m not some sick freak!" he yelled. "You must think so little of me, Dad—"

"River, can you leave us alone?"

Archer’s calm voice came from behind me.

I was absolutely relieved the conversation was ending because I had lost hope that I could ever reach Igor.

Archer was right.

Igor needed to hear the alpha’s language.