Page 12 of Red River (Eden’s Omegaverse #4)

I have to admit, I was tempted to eavesdrop on whatever Archer was doing with Igor. I sat in the kitchen while Oliver made dinner, but I couldn’t focus.

Oliver kept glancing at me, occasionally throwing out supportive comments along the lines of, "It’ll be all right. Igor’s the new kid—these things take time, especially in small towns with tight cliques. He needs to fight for his position, and he will. You’ll see."

I listened with one ear, but my mind was preoccupied with whatever was happening in the basement.

Lake was messing around on his keyboard, and Aiden, Milo, and Van were yelling from the obstacle course outside, making my head feel even more like a beehive.

Eventually, I gave in. I crept downstairs as quietly as possible. The gym door was shut, which was actually a good thing—if I stood right outside an open door, they might hear my heartbeat. Now, I could press my ear against it and listen.

I heard dull thuds—the kind of sound you get from someone punching something with gloves on.

"Keep your wrist straight, or you’ll have a hard time holding a fork tomorrow," Archer’s calm voice carried through the door.

No way. Archer actually convinced Igor to train? I stood there, stunned, listening to the exchange.

"Do I really have to keep throwing straight punches? Philip hit me with a hook," Igor’s voice was strained, slightly out of breath.

"I see you’ve got so many ideas about how to train."

"No, that’s not it," Igor protested. "It’s just… these punches feel short. Weak. Like they don’t have any momentum."

"If Philip used the hook, it means he's not an experienced fighter. If he were, he'd know that hooks are easy to see coming and easy to block."

"Why?"

"Because the person throwing them has to wind up first, take a swipe."

"Yeah, but they’ve got power," Igor shot back.

"All right, then, let’s test that. Try hitting me with a hook," Archer said, his tone amused.

A dull thud, followed by an angry grunt from Igor.

"Ow! What the hell?! Why’d you hit me again?"

"Because you left yourself wide open. No guard. I told you—when you throw a hook, especially a flail like this, you expose your face. You can’t protect your chin, so I took advantage of that while keeping mine covered. A good hook punch isn’t meant to start an attack but to finish a combination."

"That’s stupid," Igor muttered, clearly annoyed. But he didn’t sound too pissed—probably too out of breath to argue.

"You know what’s stupid? Getting punched in the face. Straight punches might not have as much power, but they’re a hell of a lot harder to block—even with a solid guard. Look—see this gap between your hands? I can still land a hit on your chin through it. That’s why in street fights, the guys with a fast, well-trained straight punch always come out on top. Not the ones throwing wild-ass haymakers, leaving their faces wide open."

"All right, all right, I get it," Igor grumbled.

"Good. Now, back to the basics—keep your guard up. Jab, cross, left pad, right pad. Let’s go."

The steady rhythm of punches resumed.

I leaned against the wall, the tears ran down my cheeks, one after the other.

It was cathartic.

What Archer was doing for Igor… I could never have given him that. I didn’t know the first thing about fighting, and I didn’t have the mindset to tackle the problem this way.

I stood there for a long time, listening to them talk, to the sounds of training, feeling waves of relief wash over my tense body.

Could this actually work? Had Archer really found a way through—even if he had to kick the damn door down to do it?

But there was still one more thing bugging me.

I went back upstairs and out into the yard, where Van and Milo were hanging on the climbing wall.

Aiden was there too, swaying on the tire swing. Right away, he yelled, "So, did Igor get his ass kicked?"

"Shut it. Don’t mock your brother." Then I turned to Milo. "Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?"

I could tell by his face he wasn’t thrilled, but he jumped down from the wall and walked over slowly, looking like he expected to get in trouble.

"What did you and Archer talk about?" I asked.

Milo grimaced. "I’d rather not say."

"Did he tell you to keep something a secret from me?"

"No… but, I dunno, it just feels kinda weird going back and forth between people. Like a game of telephone. Why don’t you just ask him?"

"Milo, Igor is my son. I want to know everything that concerns him."

Milo huffed, irritated. "Then take it up with Archer." This time, his voice had even more confidence—and I knew I wasn’t gonna get anything else out of him.

"Just tell me one thing. Is this about what happened at school?"

Milo sighed. "Yeah, obviously. Every damn problem seems to start there."

I let out a slight snort—I disagreed. Igor's trouble had started long before that.

When I got home, I found Lake still at the keyboard, playing with determination, while Oliver was tidying up in the kitchen.

He glanced at me with his usual warm, easygoing smile.

"How are they doing downstairs?"

"Igor’s actually training with Archer. Kinda hard to believe, since he can’t stand him, but hopefully working together will bring them closer. Maybe he’ll finally see that Archer isn’t a monster and that he can trust him."

"Are you going to trust him too?" Oliver murmured, eyeing me.

I blinked, caught off guard, and shot him a mildly accusatory look. But he didn’t back down—just gave me a knowing wink.

I was about to say something snarky but bit my tongue. I remembered how I’d felt standing in that parking lot today—how I’d been ready to snap at Archer and, like an idiot, willing to blame him for the whole situation.

"Not everything can be prevented, and some things just can’t be solved purely through peaceful methods…" I whispered, not even realizing I was saying it out loud. "I can’t pretend my way of seeing things is the only valid one."

Oliver shrugged slightly.

"Oh, doesn’t everybody think that? It’s natural we see things differently. Alphas have their ways, omegas have theirs. And me? As a beta, I naturally believe everything can be solved through compromise. There’s room for all of these approaches."

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. He had strongly emphasized as a beta. That was his natural mindset—he didn’t try to change it. Oliver thought like a beta, I thought like an omega. No matter how much we tried, we couldn’t escape it.

In the end, we all align with what resonates with who we truly are.

"The only problem is when we try to forcibly change others," Oliver added, giving me another meaningful look.

"Igor is an alpha." The words slipped out before I even had time to process them.

I straightened slightly and met Oliver’s gaze.

"He’s never going to be a beta or an omega, and he won’t have the luxury of handling situations the way we would. He’ll face different challenges. I can’t erase that part of him, but…" I hesitated. "I can help push him in the right direction. And the best way to do that… is by letting Archer step in."

Was this truly the moment I accepted Archer’s role for the first time?

Not just on the surface, not just for the sake of being a good, submissive omega, but because there was actually a good reason to do it?

It didn’t mean my approach was wrong—only that different approaches had different functions and their own place.

I glanced at Lake, who was still practicing on his keyboard, his cute little eyebrows drawn together in deep concentration as he tried to hit the right keys. Archer wasn’t pushing his alpha ways on him—that was for sure! He sensed that Lake was different, a little independent artistic soul.

What about me? Inwardly, I had still been trying to apply my omega ways of thinking to Igor.

But I could finally relax—because now, I understood Archer’s intentions more deeply. I actually knew he had chosen the right, appropriate path in dealing with Igor.

Two things could be true at the same time. Simple as that.

Oliver studied me for a long moment, as if debating whether to say something.

"Sometimes, I’m glad I was born a beta. I’m somewhat outside of these dilemmas—raging hormones, mating games, power dynamics. I’m even unable to detect your strange sounds; they’re outside of my hearing abilities. We’re oblivious to so many of your dramas. You AOs… you’re complicated, like life itself."

I raised an amused eyebrow.

"That was… very poetic. You must’ve really thought that one through."

Oliver chuckled.

"Oh, you have no idea. You know, there are idiots in the government trying to activate betas hormonally? They launched some program aimed at forcing a change in us. I’m completely against it. Some things shouldn’t be messed with. Someone has to keep society running while AOs are off dealing with all your…"—he made a dramatic sweeping gesture—"hormonal mating business."

The mention of mating business sent a wave of unexpected thoughts through me.

A slow smirk crept onto my lips.

Maybe tonight was the night to take my relationship with Archer one step further?

***

That evening, I still felt the pleasant spirit vibrating in my body—the same energy that had brought about the shift within me—that urge to move forward, to push my life onto a new track, to put even more distance between me and the past.

Like every night, I knocked on Archer’s door.

But this time, my heart was beating faster than usual.

He opened it with his usual calm expression, dressed only in boxer briefs.

His bare chest, all bulging muscle and definition, drew my gaze like a magnet. I stepped inside, closing the door behind me.

Meanwhile, Archer walked over to his desk and dropped into the chair, which was a break from our usual routine—normally, he stood beside the bed while I lay down on it.

I moved closer, and our eyes met.

"I felt it today, in the parking lot," Archer said, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. "That fight in you. I know you were angry at me."

He tilted his head, studying me carefully. I just stared at him, mouth open, completely lost for words.

Uh. So he brought it up, not the best start… He could see through me way too easily.

"This is what I was talking about earlier, River," he continued. "This isn't submission—because you don't trust me."

"That has changed, Archer. Starting today. I'm sorry I was so hesitant—"

"You don't have to apologize," he cut me off. "I don’t expect blind obedience. That would be the dumbest thing any omega could do. You needed time. That’s exactly what I was saying. I just want you to know that in everything I do—and everything I will do—your well-being will always come first. That’s a promise."

Something tightened in my throat. I wasn't lying when I said I needed more—I really did. Desperately.

Slowly, I grabbed the hem of my T-shirt and pulled it over my head in one swift motion.

Now, I was completely bare. He was still in his boxers. I threw my shirt onto the bed and stepped toward him.

His gaze dropped from my face to my chest, then lower, lingering on my crotch.

My body responded instantly, blood flowing to my dick.

"I need more. I want more, Archer," I murmured, stepping between his legs and resting my hands on his shoulders. "I want to cut the distance."

Up close, his eyes were almost translucent, like blue crystals catching the light. Standing here, immersed in his energy, my nostrils flared. His scent was still somewhat elusive—mostly his shower gel. But relentlessly, I tried to search for those sweet tones I dreamed of finding there.

"Thank you," I whispered. "For your patience. With Igor. Because I don’t have any left."

Archer didn’t say anything. He just looked at me, his face unreadable as ever—but somehow, I could still feel his emotions.

For all his seriousness and rules and structures, he was still a young, healthy guy, and I knew he wanted to just… fuck. But his mind controlled his body with a powerful grip. In a way, I respected it, but the naughty part of me wanted to break through it, free his desires, let him experience wildness with me…

I leaned in, brushing my lips against his cheek before letting them drift closer to his mouth. His strong presence was absolutely tantalizing. I wanted to sink into this, melt all over him, never leave this safe bubble ever again.

"Alpha, please."

My lips, which had been leaving small trails over his jawline, finally met his lips. The kiss began, but it was soft, almost hesitant—just the press of lips against lips.

Archer’s hands slowly lifted, grazing my back before moving down to my hips, then lower, gripping my buttocks lightly. I had always been quite happy with my ass—it had a pleasant swell, and over these two weeks, I had gained a bit there again. Archer’s fingers explored it, massaging gently.

"Alpha, please…!"

The fingers of his other hand tangled in my hair, gliding through the strands, playing with them absently.

"Red River."

His lips trailed down my neck, over my glands, my collarbones—delicate brushes of butterfly wings teasing my skin—before closing around my nipple.

Pink light burst inside my head—I gasped, a shiver running through me. His touch was sensual, measured, each movement gradually intensifying. His tongue flicked, circling, teasing my hardened nub.

Letting myself sink into the sensation, I closed my eyes. My body trembled, heat pooling low in my stomach, sweet tension coiling tight.

Tingling, teasing… It wasn’t intense. It wasn’t overwhelming, it was precise. And that precision made it effective. I fisted my hands in his hair, another moan slipping from my lips—needy, desperate, demanding.

"Please!"

The barest brush of his fingertips over the head of my dick—just a whisper of contact—and suddenly, something inside me snapped. I came undone.

The orgasm hit hard, pleasure tearing through me as I unloaded, letting out a sound that was almost embarrassing— somewhere between a whimper, a squeak, and a moan. My body jerked, my hips pushing forward as I spilled over his chest in five long waves, my breath hitching, shaking.

When the last spurt faded, I glanced down, still breathless.

Archer’s expression was calm, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Feeling silly, I groaned, a flush creeping up my neck. He was still completely in control, while I was trembling like a leaf, utterly wrecked. He had barely even touched me, and the hungry little slut in me had already gushed my jizz all over him.

"I’ll get a towel," I mumbled, scrambling toward the small bathroom attached to his room.

When I came back with a roll of paper towels, Archer was watching me, silent, his face unreadable.

For a second, I thought about offering to return the favor—but something in his energy told me he wasn’t expecting that. Maybe this wasn’t the moment for it.

I had to say something. Had to explain, somehow.

"I wish things were different," I said quietly. "I wish you didn’t have to be in the middle of all this. That you didn’t have to deal with the mess that comes with a family this big. And then we could explore each other in a different way. None of this was ever your choice, and now you’re just… stuck with us."

"Stop, River," he cut in. "It was my choice. And I’m not the type to back down from a challenge. I thrive on them. I like pushing things forward. Repairing. Improving. Making it work. That’s who I am."

"You’re so… alpha," I murmured.

Archer didn’t respond.

"You made a big breakthrough today. You got Igor to train with you. It’s nothing short of a miracle."

"It’s too early to call it a breakthrough." Archer shrugged. "I had to… apply some leverage to get him to agree. Not ideal, but when you’re stuck in a deadlock, sometimes you have to force movement."

"I feel like you had a plan all along. More than I ever did when I first got here. I was just… lost in the dark."

Archer reached out, catching a strand of my hair between his fingers and twirling the end slowly.

"River, can you stop stressing? It’s pointless. I asked for your trust, and that still stands."

"You have it," I said. "I just feel stupid. Like you’re giving so much, and I’m not giving you enough. I want to give you more."

Archer’s brows furrowed slightly. "You’re not in my head, River. You don’t know how much I’m getting from this. And you overthink too much. Just let things be. Let them flow."

I nodded slowly. "I’m starting to understand why you asked me for this, and I respect how consistent you are."

Archer let go of my hair, his hand lifting to brush against my cheek.

"Change of subject. My cousin Jan is passing through on Sunday with his husband. I’d like us to have a quick family lunch together."

I smiled, relieved. "Of course, no problem! I vaguely remember him from my visits to Sam’s house when he was a kid—"

But the moment I said it, an awkward feeling settled in. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to present my relationship with Archer to his family. And how would people see the age difference?

Still, I stopped myself from stressing again and just nodded.

Just as I was stepping out of Archer’s room, my phone buzzed.

I rushed to pick it up.

Speaking of the devil.

It was Sam.

Since the last time we saw each other, I hadn’t spoken to him on the phone once—just sent short, vague texts reporting how the situation with Igor had unfolded.

But now, with Archer’s cousin coming over and seeing us together as a couple, it felt simply too strange to keep Sam in the dark about what was going on.

I made sure to close the door, sighed heavily, and answered, knowing this was going to lead to a confrontation. I knew Sam’s stance on age-gap relationships all too well—and now, it was his own little brother involved in one.

"Hey, Sam. How’s it going?"

A pause. Then a short scoff. "River. Wow. Hearing your voice after all these weeks…"

I bit my lip, knowing I’d have to tell him the truth now. There was no hiding it, and I didn’t want him finding out about my relationship with Archer from someone else.

"Sam, I need to tell you something important."

Silence on the other end. Sam was giving me space to speak, but I could feel the tension.

"Archer’s always been interested in me. Even when he was just a kid, I’m sure you remember. And now that we’re living together, it’s… turned into something more than just a crush."

Even as I said it, I felt the energy shift between us. Sam let out a sharp, frustrated exhale.

"Excuse me?"

"I mean… Archer and I, we’re kind of together."

A long, heavy silence. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm—but only on the surface. "I thought the whole point was for you to get back on your feet and move forward. Wasn’t Archer’s house supposed to be a temporary stop?"

"It was. But now… it’s more than that."

"My brother is fifteen years younger than you, River. You do realize how unbalanced that is, right?"

A wave of panic surged through me. Maybe I shouldn’t put this all on Archer, but my fear made me do exactly that. "Sam, I never asked to be here. He’s the one who invited me."

"Oh, so it’s his fault? That’s how you’re framing this?"

I realized the conversation was heading straight for disaster.

"No, I like him too, just—"

And then he asked the question I’d been dreading:

"Can you finally tell me what happened that day in the kitchen? I had to step out to talk to the notary, and when I came back, you both were all flustered—Archer even made that weird comment about how life-changing your interaction was. I tried to push it out of my mind, but I’m not an idiot. I could smell your slick in the air. You were turned on!"

My heart was pounding. My head spun. I never thought we’d actually have this conversation—let alone that Sam would react like this. But of course, Archer was his beloved brother. Maybe his protective instincts were kicking in?

"Archer asked me for a kiss."

And again, I was presenting it as all his fault, and it just didn’t sit right.

Sam made a sharp inhale. "For fuck’s sake, River—he was half your age back then! That was never okay, in any world, in any version, no matter how much he begged you for it! You were supposed to be the adult. And you had a husband at the time!"

He was almost yelling now. I pulled the phone away from my ear, taking a deep breath.

It was too much. First the stress with Igor, and now this?

"I have to go, Sam. I’ve got things to do. We’ll talk later."

"Oh, I see. So that’s why you’ve been ignoring my calls for the past two weeks. Guilt. And Archer, too. You both went radio silent because you knew this wasn’t something to be proud of!"

"Archer’s an adult now, Sam."

"But he wasn’t then. And you shaped him, whether you meant to or not. You had influence over him. That crush never had a chance to die out because you kept feeding it."

"What? How?! How the hell was I feeding it? Sam, that’s not fair—"

"Not fair? You know what’s really not fair? That you, knowing how riddled with problems your own family is, set your sights on just a kid! You know he’s got big money, a mansion, and good looks—he’s a catch. And the fact that he’s younger? Even better. Easier for you to manipulate!"

My jaw practically hit the floor.

Stunned, I leaned against the wall for support. I couldn’t believe how cruel Sam was—how unfair his words were.

"Manipulate Archer? You clearly don’t know your own brother. No one controls him, Sam!"

"Oh, please. Alphas can be controlled—you know that damn well. Just spread your legs, and suddenly, you’ve got them wrapped around your finger. Especially pretty ones like yourself. Omegas are pros at playing the helpless little lambs, but when we set our sights on an alpha, they don’t stand a chance."

I could barely breathe. My vision blurred. The stress was crushing me again.

"That’s… not true, Sam. Archer’s not controlled by his sexual urges."

"Every alpha is!"

"You’re wrong, he’s not. Your brother is strong and poised. And smart! Wonderful. He grounds me!" I trailed off, feeling a painful squeeze in my throat. "I have to go. I don’t want us to fight, Sam. You’re Archer’s brother. You’re family."

"Family? But you don’t care about splitting families, do you? You did it to your own, mercilessly! For your own selfish whim! You, you, you! It’s always about you! A pretty little prince! Now that your old, useless husband is gone, you’ve got a fresh chance with a young stud—"

I hung up.

Tears streamed down my face. It hurt—hurt so much—I bent over, then slid to the floor. After all these years of friendship… this is what he really thought about me?

His anger, his opinion about me…

It crushed me, and I sobbed quietly for a while. Did I deserve it? Did I?

Maybe I did. Just a little. My dad’s face appeared in my mind’s eye—broken, crying, devastated.

I was a cruel, selfish bastard. I was. Pursuing my own ‘happiness’ while trampling over all the people who cared about me… And for what? To then struggle for two decades.

And now, with Archer?

I couldn’t say I didn’t understand Sam’s fears. Big age gaps always stirred up strong opinions—fear of manipulation, of taking advantage—because, let’s be real, that does happen. That’s why people are wary.

A relationship with a widower who had five kids. That was a lot. Most people wouldn’t be strong enough for it.

Instead of being with someone his own age and growing into a relationship naturally, Archer had been thrown headfirst into a completely different life. No slow exploration. No gradual steps. He had to be the head of someone else’s family from day one.

Sam’s accusations weren’t completely baseless. If it were my kid, would I want them to take on that kind of burden? Probably not.

But understanding Sam a little didn’t mean I wasn’t hurt—heartbroken, even.

He had known me for years, and despite that, in the heat of the moment, he still assumed the worst—that I was some kind of predator. That I had planned this.

And it wasn’t true.

I stood up and walked to my bed, where I collapsed. My nest was higher than usual—lately, I’d been instinctively building the walls stronger. Now, I curled up inside, shaking. I didn’t want to think about this. I didn’t want to torture myself over it. Archer had asked me to relax, to let go of work, to focus on healing, to break out of my cycle of stress. And I had been getting close! After everything with Igor had finally started to settle, was I really going to let this ruin the rest?

I couldn’t allow that to happen. My life with Archer—our relationship—I had a say in how it played out. I had to make it a priority.

Archer was already doing everything he could. Was it fair to make him carry not just my family baggage, but me—this walking ball of stress I became every time something went wrong? I had to get a grip.

Sam didn’t live our life. I had to push his voice out of my head. I wanted to focus on Archer. The moment his face appeared in my mind, a wave of bliss washed over me.

Archer. My Archer. Could I call him that?

I didn’t care what the world thought. It could hate me altogether. I wanted to be with him.

As I curled up inside my nest, hugging myself tightly with my arms, I heard a quiet knock.

"Come in…" I muttered.

Archer stepped inside, his face peaceful.

"River, I can feel how upset you are."

For a moment, I just stared at him. How could he know? A thick wall separated us!

He walked closer, moving slowly, and sat at the edge of my bed. The moment I felt his warmth, I practically jumped out of my nest, right into his lap.

"Archer, just hold me, please. Just… hold me."

And he did. His strong arms wrapped around me and my head landed on his chest. It was the safest place in the world, at least for me. He didn't say anything, didn't ask, just let me be in his soothing space, and I was grateful. As he slowly stroked my hair, I let myself forget, just… melt into him.

My God, that was the best feeling.

***

Archer’s cousin was supposed to arrive at 11 am. I’d been a little on edge all morning, but I was doing my best to keep it together.

Right on time, a Jeep pulled into our driveway.

I had spent all of Saturday morning convinced that Sam would call Archer and tear into him about our relationship. But interestingly enough, it didn’t seem like that had happened. Unless he had—and Archer just didn’t tell me?

Archer was acting completely normal, as usual. He spent the morning either training with the boys or sparring with Igor. He even had Igor bring out the training pads so they could work outside, right next to the obstacle course. Van, Aiden, and Lake were watching them, and Van looked like he was considering joining in—until Igor shot him a look that quickly changed his mind.

I was a little nervous about meeting Archer’s cousin. I wasn’t sure how to act—should I openly treat Archer like my partner? Or just as my… host? Or maybe just as a friend? I knew what Archer wanted, but I had no idea how much he had told his family.

After yesterday's situation with Sam, I really wasn't looking forward to testing what could happen on my own.

So when I saw the Jeep pull up, I followed Archer onto the porch and grabbed his arm before he could head to the car.

I murmured anxiously, "How am I supposed to act? What’s my role in this house when it comes to your family?"

Archer raised an eyebrow and smirked slightly.

"What do you mean? You’re my omega. And besides, whether we sleep together or not is nobody’s business."

Then, as if this was the simplest thing in the world, he started walking toward the Jeep. I swallowed hard and hurried after him.

Of course, Archer was completely at ease—just like I should have expected. But not me. Nope. Always looking for problems even when there weren’t any.

Two people stepped out of the car, and at first glance, they looked like a beta and an omega, which surprised me—I was sure Jan was an alpha. But as we got closer, I caught the unmistakable scent of a mated alpha coming from the dark blond-haired man, despite his height falling within a beta’s range.

"River, this is my cousin Jan—maybe you remember him from years ago—and his husband, Day."

I reached out to shake Jan’s hand. He had changed so much since the last time I saw him.

In some ways, Jan looked a lot like Archer. They both had blond hair—though Archer’s was a little lighter, while Jan’s had more of a golden-brown hue. Their facial features were similar, too. Both were undeniably handsome, but in different ways—Archer had strong, striking features, a classically rugged kind of attractiveness. Meanwhile, Jan was also handsome, but in a more refined, almost model-like way. He had a certain prettiness to him, much softer than Archer.

His eyes were a warm golden color, while Archer’s were crystal blue. But despite their differences, the family resemblance was definitely there.

Of course, I didn’t dare ask why Jan was the height of a typical beta even though he was clearly an alpha—that would have been way out of line. Something obviously had to have happened in the time since I last saw him, but it wasn’t my business.

Jan’s husband, Day, was pregnant, his stomach gently rounded.

He had a completely different look from Jan, who was jacked—Day was slim and delicate, with narrow shoulders and a slender, triangular face. His large gray eyes were striking, and his long, wavy brown hair framed his features beautifully.

They both looked about twenty-five, but I knew better. Since they were True Mates, their original ages weren’t obvious anymore. Archer had told me there was actually an eight-year gap between them, but the magic of their bond had evened it out, making them both look like they were in their early twenties.

Jan kept a protective arm around Day’s slim shoulders, and the way he kept glancing at him—full of pure love and tenderness—was honestly heartwarming to see.

The next few minutes were a whirlwind of introductions and explanations. Even Igor, to my surprise, behaved himself. He actually sat at the table with us and didn’t make any snide remarks about Jan’s height.

No one asked about my relationship with Archer, either—which was a relief. Instead, I focused on helping Oliver set the table, a role I was very happy to take on. Meanwhile, Archer and Jan chatted about Jan’s fruit tree nursery and his brothers.

Their conversation wasn’t particularly interesting to me. Soon they switched topics to one of Archer’s college friends—some guy named Gabriel—and a well-known public figure: Blue Lowen, the head of Malden Pharmaceuticals. They got really into the discussion, but I had no clue what they were talking about, so I just made sure everyone got their food and that the kids didn’t completely destroy the table.

At one point, Aiden turned to Jan and asked, "Are you guys True Mates?"

Jan laughed and nodded enthusiastically. "Yep, we are!"

"How did you know?" Aiden asked, full of childlike curiosity.

Jan smiled. "I actually went to a marriage contract fair, and that’s where I first saw Day. There was this matchmaker guy there who wouldn’t stop trying to set us up. At first, I wasn’t sure, but eventually, he got through to me."

I immediately noticed Archer tense up slightly. He shot Jan a look, like he was trying to warn him about something. But Jan didn’t seem to notice—he just kept talking.

"That matchmaker was a purple alpha. He had this incredible ability—he could actually see if people were True Mates and gauge the strength of their mateship."

My kids practically gasped in awe.

"I would love to find a perfect mate!" Lake exclaimed.

"I wish I could meet someone like that too!" Aiden said, scratching his chin. "It’d be amazing to have a True Mate."

"Oh, it is amazing," Jan admitted with a wide grin. "There’s nothing better! You don’t get sick, you age backward till you’re in your twenties, and you live way longer than regular people. But, of course, there are some downsides. Can you guess what they are?"

He gazed around at my sons, waiting for their answers.

Igor looked up from his plate, where he was busy devouring yet another cutlet, and muttered, "I know. If one of you dies, the other dies too."

"That’s true." Jan nodded, unfazed by Igor’s grim tone. "But True Mates aren’t easy to kill. We can heal each other, even from life-threatening injuries—"

"Through sex," Igor said flatly, giving Jan a challenging look.

Jan just chuckled, clearly not embarrassed. He glanced over at Day, whose cheeks were slightly flushed—though that could’ve just been the pregnancy.

"What does ‘healing through sex’ mean?" Lake asked curiously.

"It’s when two people like each other a lot and are really close, and then magic happens," I jumped in quickly before the conversation got too detailed. "They can heal their injuries or even chronic illnesses—it’s almost supernatural. The power of True Mates."

Igor shot me an amused look. He obviously already knew all the specifics.

After lunch, we all moved out onto the patio, and somehow, I ended up sitting next to Day. Since he was pregnant, it was easy to start a conversation—we just fell into the kind of topics that omegas who’ve already given birth love talking about.

"I heard from Archer that you used to be a surrogate. It must be amazing to finally start your own family," I said, not entirely sure if that was a tactful thing to say, but I wanted to break the ice.

Day turned his big gray eyes on me. He had incredibly long lashes, giving his face a soft, wistful look. I had long lashes too, but mine were auburn, while his were ink-black, making them stand out even more.

"Yeah, I can’t wait. It feels like a miracle that I met Jan. My life before wasn’t exactly… hopeful," he replied with a small shrug.

I had a feeling that was an understatement. The fact that he’d been a surrogate for so long probably meant he had been alone for years. And participating in a marriage contract fair? Seemed rather desperate. But this wasn’t the time for a deep dive into his past, so I steered the conversation toward something lighter.

"When’s your due date?"

"I’ve got almost five months to go. I’m in my fourth month now. It looks like more, but that’s because I’ve been pregnant before—so my belly shows earlier."

"Oh, I get that," I laughed. "With Lake, I looked five months along by the third month."

Day hesitated for a moment, glancing at me and then at Archer before asking softly, "Do you want more kids?"

Ah. That question wasn’t just about children—it was also about me and Archer.

"I always wanted a big family. When I was younger, I thought I’d follow in my dad’s footsteps and have a house full of kids, but life got complicated. Right now, I’m kind of in a transition phase, so it’s hard to make plans for the future," I answered vaguely.

Day nodded.

"Of course, I didn’t mean to pry," he said. "It’s just… Jan told me Archer always wanted a large family. I figured he might try to talk you into having more children." He gave me a small, apologetic smile.

That’s when it hit me—Jan and Day already saw Archer and me as a couple! That’s how Archer must have introduced us.

Well, who was I to argue?

With a bit of relief, I replied, "I wouldn’t mind having more babies. My dad had eight of us. But that’s something Archer and I would have to discuss. We haven’t really dived into it yet."

Day didn’t have even a hint of judgment in his expression about the fact that Archer was so much younger than me—unlike Sam! I knew Day was eight years older than Jan, yet thanks to their True Mate bond, they looked like peers. His skin was so smooth and youthful. So why would he criticize my relationship? He understood. That thought made me relax a little.

I took a chance and brought it up. "Archer’s brother didn’t take the news about us very well," I muttered quietly.

Day leaned in slightly. "Don’t let that get to you. Focus on your own happiness. That’s what matters. Sam’s issues are his own—not yours. I used to worry a lot about what Jan’s family would think of me too. His uncle was a little suspicious of me because of my past as a surrogate. But in the end, it’s nobody else’s business. Things like this tend to work themselves out."

"You’re right," I admitted. "But in your case, being True Mates probably made it easier for others to accept. With me and Archer… I’m older, I have a big family… People judge."

Day gave me a knowing smile. "Maybe. True Mates status smooths things over. That’s why I’m a big believer in searching for your True Mate. I was in a different relationship before, but it ended when my ex found his High Mate. Only a True Mate bond gives you the certainty that the other person will never leave."

I exhaled and leaned back into the sofa. "My parents are True Mates, but I never really cared about that. It’s so rare, like a fairy tale. My late husband was my High Mate, and I thought that was enough to be happy. Though I guess it’s… not enough, after all."

Day tilted his head, then reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and dug around for something. A moment later, he handed me a business card.

"Well, if you ever change your mind and decide to look for your True Mate—if things with Archer don’t work out—this is the card of the guy who helped us find each other. He’s got a real gift. When I went to the marriage contract fair, he brought four of his clients along, and he matched all of them with their True Mates! Crazy, right?"

I nodded, feeling a slight temptation to check it out. But at the same time, what I was building with Archer felt too important, too real, to even consider looking for some ‘perfect match’. Still, just for the sake of curiosity, I glanced down at the business card… and froze.

"Storm Nolan?"

"Yeah, he’s an interesting guy," Day said. "A purple alpha. He’s actually with his own True Mate."

My hands trembled, and I swallowed hard.

"Does he have burgundy hair and almost glowing neon turquoise eyes?" I whispered.

Day’s eyes widened. "Yeah… Do you know him? Have you met before?"

I clenched my jaw. "He’s my brother. Full-blood. My family name is Nolan."

A thick, uncomfortable silence fell over us. Day cleared his throat and darted a glance at Jan, who immediately noticed something was off and paused his conversation with Archer.

"I’m sorry," Day stammered. "I didn’t mean to bring it up. I—I know that—"

He knew. Jan must have told him that I wasn’t in contact with my family. He had just stumbled onto a landmine.

I pressed my lips together. "It’s fine. It’s not exactly a secret that I don’t talk to them. Nothing to discuss…" I managed to say, though every nerve in my body was wound tight. I couldn’t take it anymore.

"Excuse me for a moment."

Plastering on an apologetic smile, I got up and walked off the patio, heading back inside. My heart was pounding so hard, it felt like I had just run miles.

I meant to go straight to my room, but halfway up the stairs, Archer caught up with me.

"River, are you okay?"

That’s when I lost it.

"This is so damn weird, you know?" I burst out. "First, you tell me about Skye, and now Day tells me about Storm? What the hell is going on?! It’s like my brothers are everywhere, popping up out of nowhere every five minutes!" I turned away, choking on emotions I couldn’t quite name, and ran up the stairs.

Archer followed.

I practically collapsed onto my bed, messing up the nest.

"It’s like the universe is rubbing it in my face," I mumbled, my voice filled with something dangerously close to tears. "Like it’s telling me, Look! Remember? You had a family once. The one you left behind. The one you shut out completely."

Archer sat down beside me and gently took my hand. He didn’t say anything. He just looked at me.

And again—somehow, just that quiet presence, that steadiness, that patience, made me feel like I could breathe again. How could his mere existence affect me so much? It worked like magic—whenever I touched him, my anxiety faded away.

After a moment, I let out a shaky sigh and reached for my phone to open a folder of photos—ones I never let myself look at.

I hesitated, then turned the screen toward Archer.

"This is my dad," I whispered.

For the first time in years, I allowed myself to really see him again. That face—beautiful, almost angelic, framed by long, platinum blond hair.

Archer exhaled softly. "He looked almost exactly the same when I saw him last June."

I snapped my head up. "You saw him too?"

"Yeah," Archer nodded. "I told you, I was at Skye’s graduation ceremony. The whole family was there—Storm too. I didn’t approach them, but I stared for a while, curious to see how a True Mate couple aged."

"And? What did he look like exactly?"

"Long blond braid, slim and fit. Not a day over thirty-five, even though he’s probably around sixty, right? That True Mate magic is something else. I was impressed."

I bit my lip and scrolled through more photos. They showed my brothers—laughing, playing, sitting around a table together.

Archer leaned in. "I recognize Skye," he murmured, pointing him out in one of the pictures. Then his eyes landed on another. "Oh, and that’s Storm. He always had the same, defiant look on his face."

"I cut them off completely," I admitted, my eyes drifting back to the picture of my dad. "Every year, my dad tried to reach me through Uncle Van. He was the only one from my family I still exchanged emails with sometimes. For years—seven, maybe ten—my dad kept asking to see me. But then… the messages stopped coming. Or Van stopped mentioning it. Eventually, he just talked about his own sons—he got remarried and had kids later in life, my cousins. No updates about my family."

Archer was quiet for a moment, then asked softly, "Why? Why did you push them away so completely?"

His voice wasn’t accusing. There was no pressure, no judgment. But the question still made something in me tighten.

"Because I threw their love back in their faces," I said hoarsely. "I screamed at them, rejected them, even though I knew I was breaking their hearts."

Archer’s hand tightened around mine. "Do you really think they wouldn’t forgive you?"

I let out a bitter laugh. "Maybe they would. But first, I would have to forgive myself. And I don’t know if I’m ready for that. I don’t know if I’ll ever be. The thought of facing them now, at this stage in my life…" I shook my head. "I have to be ready for that. And I’m not."

Archer didn’t argue. He didn’t push.

He just watched me quietly, giving me the space to breathe, and for that, my heart filled with gratitude.

"We should go back to the patio. I don’t want to make a scene—Jan and Day don’t deserve to sit through my mood swings like I’m some angsty teenager," I muttered.

But Archer held onto my hand a little tighter.

"You don’t have to. You can stay here—I’ll talk to them. Just take a break. I can see how much this is weighing on you. You don’t need to deal with them right now."

"No, I do. I have to live normally. Your cousin and his husband are really kind. It’s a nice break from everything, and I appreciate their visit."

Archer gave me a searching look but didn’t protest. Instead, he helped me up and led me back downstairs, his grip keeping me steady.

Jan and Day were chatting with Oliver, but as soon as they saw us return, a flicker of uncertainty crossed their faces. Day was the first to step forward.

"I’m really sorry—I didn’t know—"

"It’s fine!" I quickly interrupted him with a dismissive wave. "Really. If anything, I should be apologizing. You couldn’t have known. These are my issues to deal with, and lately, I’ve been… irrational. It has nothing to do with you. I don’t want it to affect your visit."

I smiled and pulled him into a quick hug.

Up close, he felt so different from Archer—taller than me but slender and delicate, like he might break if I wasn’t careful. Hugging him felt strange, like handling something fragile, a butterfly.

We went back to the table, and the chatting picked up again.

Day turned out to be a great conversationalist. Naturally, we went back to talking about our experiences with pregnancy and childbirth—two omegas who had given birth couldn’t exactly avoid the topic. But what really piqued my interest was learning more about the marital contract fairs. They were a controversial subject, and I had always been curious.

Day described how he had sat in a glass booth while people walked by, evaluating him as a potential spouse. The whole process sounded intense, almost dehumanizing. I could only imagine how stressful that must have been.

"But in the end, it was all worth it," Day said. "Everything I went through—none of it was easy, but now I have Jan. And it’s like… waking up high on happiness every day. I didn’t even know it was possible to feel this way."

He turned to Jan with a look so full of love that Jan, mid-conversation with Archer, instinctively glanced back at him. Their eyes met, and for a brief second, the world around them seemed to disappear.

The air was thick with love—so tangible it was almost overwhelming.

A strange pang hit my chest. I glanced at Archer and caught him looking at me.

Warm. Intense.

I swallowed.

For some reason, I had the sudden urge to go over and hold him. But I was still in the middle of a conversation.

"That’s amazing," I murmured instead. "It just goes to show… there’s always a chance. Life can always change for the better."

And I meant it. But at the same time, I felt like I was standing on shaky ground, still unsure of where my own life was heading.

I looked at Archer again. This time, when our eyes met, something flickered across his face—something vulnerable. A brief, unguarded moment of longing before he quickly masked it with his usual subtle smirk.

For a while, I just sat there, feeling restless. Like I was waiting for something.

And then, before I could overthink it, I stood up. Everyone’s eyes followed me as I walked over to Archer.

My hands trembled slightly as I wrapped my arms around him.

My heart was hammering, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to do it—to let that impulse carry me.

In a way, I was publicly claiming him, showing the world that he was mine.

Archer didn’t hesitate. He hugged me back, his arms strong and sure around me. Our eyes met for a fraction of a second—just long enough to feel each other.

When I returned to my seat, I caught the amused, knowing smiles on Day and Oliver’s faces.

The kids, on the other hand, didn’t react at all. Igor was focused at his plate.

By late afternoon, Jan and Day said their goodbyes—they had to be at Jan’s brother’s place that evening and didn’t want to be late.

Archer took Igor to the gym for another round of training. Igor complained about being exhausted, whining that his arms hurt, but Archer didn’t let up. And despite all the groaning, Igor didn’t actually resist.

***

That night, as I made my way to Archer’s room, one thought burned in my mind. I desperately wanted to push this forward even more—the need growing rapidly, overshadowing everything else.

I walked into his bedroom with a determined step, but just like the night before, he was sitting in a chair instead of coming to the bed. I took it as a sign—he didn’t want to jump straight into anything physical.

"I could tell that you were unhappy today. Is it because of Sam?"

My mouth fell open slightly. So Sam had talked to Archer after all! But Archer never gave any sign that something was wrong, letting the day pass without issue. And maybe, for him, there wasn’t?

"Sam… yeah. He was furious with me. Blamed me for everything. Called me selfish. He thinks I seduced you. And maybe… maybe that’s how it looks from the outside. What happened—the kiss—I don’t know if he’ll ever forgive me."

Archer’s clear blue eyes scanned my face.

"I think Sam’s had his suspicions for years. He forced himself to believe it was nothing. Now he’s angry he ignored his own instincts. But I don’t want you worrying about it. Sam doesn’t get to dictate our lives."

"But he’s your brother, Archer."

"I told him that if he’s going to act like this, maybe he should take some time away from you—at least until he sorts himself out. He pretty much ruined your friendship over this."

I let out a heavy sigh. "For years, Sam was the only real friend I had. He never let anything come between us, even when I defended Thomas with my… naivety. He was just there for me. He stuck around." My lips trembled. It was all in the past now—I doubted our friendship would ever recover.

"He’s in shock right now, but it’ll pass."

"Sam… helped me so much after Thomas died. He and Stephen came to my house and watched over the whole Igor situation. They even left Steve at home for almost three weeks! I feel so bad about it…"

"River, when Sam found out about our father’s affair, he didn’t speak to him for months. But then, one day, they just… had a conversation, and things got better. That’s how Sam is. He just needs time."

I nodded, biting my lip. I wanted to do something to make me forget about all the stress and difficulties surrounding me—to just… feel better for a change.

My gaze dropped to the solid curves of his muscles.

And then I just… said it. "I want to move things forward between us. I think… I’m ready."

Archer tilted his head, his eyes attentive.

"I don’t think you are, River. Right now is not the best moment. Too much has happened, too much stress. Give it a little more time—let things settle."

A sharp wave of frustration hit me. I was practically throwing myself at him, and he was telling me to slow down?

So I let those anxieties out. "Do you even want me?"

Archer rubbed his jaw slowly.

"I do want you, River. But I also do SEE you."

"I don’t understand…" I croaked out shakily. "Any other alpha—if an omega walked into his room like this, he’d take it as an open invitation. But not you."

"My instincts don’t control me. If they did, we would’ve had sex the first day you presented yourself to me on that bed, and it wouldn’t be healthy for our relationship. I once explained to you exactly why I think we should wait. Do you need me to say it again?"

I dropped my head. "Yeah. Say it again. Because every day, this gets harder for me. I don’t know where we stand. Today, I didn’t even know if we’re actually in a relationship."

Archer gave me a sad smile and slowly nodded.

"And that’s the problem, River. You don’t know if we’re in a relationship. The day you do—the day you don’t have to ask—that’s when everything will move forward."

Wow. Once again, Archer surprised me—with how well he understood this whole situation, my own messy mental state. He cared for me, even when I didn’t. This guy was something else.

As I stood there, staring at his chiseled, manly face, something unexpected sank in. A strange, tingling feeling in my heart. Was it possible I was starting to fall for him? For real?

Sam said omegas could control an alpha’s sexual urges, but he clearly didn’t know his own brother. There was no way to steer Archer with this—he was like a monolith.

I remembered what he’d told me in the beginning—to trust him, I had to know he could control himself. And he did. For my sake. Seeing my mental struggle, he didn’t want to take advantage of my desperation.

And now, I finally understood too.

My respect for him grew even more.

"You’re dope, you know?" I muttered, blushing hard.

Archer reached out and took my hand in his, his gaze landing on my thin fingers. My hand was barely half the size of his.

"Play for me again, River. I liked listening to your music."

For a moment, I held my breath, just feeling happy, and then nodded.

I brought my violin and sat on his bed.

"I guess soundproof walls would be useful at last!" Archer snickered, leaning back comfortably in his chair, resting his arms behind his head as he watched me.

And I started playing.

It felt… so good. The energy between us was different—lighter, more natural. I almost forgot about the world, losing myself in what I loved, playing for Archer. He gave me the space to enjoy it without stress, to appreciate this slow moment between us.

Where there were no expectations, no hurrying up, and no tension—just a pleasant time spent together.

I could get addicted to this.

***

Sadly, the next day didn’t bring the relief I’d been hoping for. If anything, Fate seemed to take some twisted pleasure in messing with me.

Around 11 am, I got a call from the school. What I heard sent a chill down my spine.

I bolted straight to Archer’s room, bursting in without knocking.

"Igor got into another fight!"

Archer stood up slowly, his face as calm and unreadable as ever.

"This time, it played out differently than before," I continued, my voice shaking. "Igor was the one who beat up the other kid. He’s the one in the nurse’s office now."

Archer raised an eyebrow. "Well, so much for people saying you can’t learn basic combat skills in 72 hours."

I stared at him, blinking like a wind-up toy.

A week ago—I would’ve been pissed at that reaction. After all, Igor had let his newfound confidence drag him into another fight… and fights? They could get dangerous.

But today… I don’t know. Something in me had permanently shifted. Maybe I was a terrible parent, but suddenly, I saw this whole situation the way Archer did!

And more than that—I wasn’t even remotely mad at Archer. That realization alone shocked me.

Archer studied my reaction, then gave me a small, knowing smile before grabbing his jacket.

"Come on. I’m sure Principal Vernon is eagerly waiting for us."

As we walked toward the car, I had a strange impulse. I grabbed Archer’s forearm, and he stopped in his tracks.

Our eyes met, and… I pressed myself against his hard, warm body, hiding my face in his chest.

"Alpha…" I murmured.

A sound escaped my throat—one expressing my… absolute submissiveness. Yes, AO language had this too. Me, willingly giving myself under his lead, felt so fucking good that I let out a breath of relief.

Then I raised my head, to look at his face again.

"Alpha, lead me."

Archer slowly nodded in acknowledgment.

"I will. Let’s go, River."

When we got to the school, we found quite a different scene. This time, Igor was sitting outside the nurse’s office.

To my surprise, Milo perched next to him. He quickly stood when he saw us, a wide grin on his face.

Igor, also looked… pleased with himself. Almost too pleased. And when he spotted Archer, something even crazier happened—he smirked.

I actually rubbed my eyes, thinking I was imagining it.

"It’s just like you said," Igor told Archer, his tone triumphant. "The tables have turned. Now that idiot’s the one lying in there."

Archer walked up and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Was there any way to avoid that fight?" he asked seriously.

"Not really," Igor admitted. "They cornered me in the locker room. Both of them were gonna jump me. Lucky for me, Josef’s a coward. The second I landed an uppercut on Philip, and he hit the ground like a stupid rag doll, Josef ran away."

Archer gave a small nod, a hint of approval in his eyes.

"Good. You didn’t start it. Never start it. Always do everything you can to avoid a fight. Until you… can’t."

Igor nodded back. And that’s when it hit me—the energy in the room. The way Igor was looking at him.

My son had given in to Archer’s energy. I could feel it in their interaction. The people who said stable alpha energy shaped teen alpha energy… they were onto something. I could sense it, almost palpable between them.

The latent Musth was… truly over! Because of that, Igor was calmer. More grounded.

Before I could process it any further, the nurse’s office door opened.

Out stepped Principal Vernon, along with the school counselor, Mr. Nelson.

Behind them was one more man—an alpha I’d never seen before.

"We have another unfortunate incident on our hands," Vernon said, his voice heavy. "And we need to find a solution. Let’s all go to my office for a discussion."

I nodded, as did Archer. Following behind them were two students, a teen sporting a bruise on his chin and the other trailing beside him. I suspected they were the bullies in question, Philip and Josef.

Seeing them in person for the first time, I nearly gasped in surprise. They were both alphas—already tall and well-built for their age, far more so than Igor, who had never set foot in a gym before meeting Archer. But these two? They looked like defense players, which made it all the more surprising that Igor had managed to take one of them down!

In total silence, we all headed to the principal’s office. It was large enough to hold all of us, with a few chairs for everyone to sit.

While we walked, I noticed Milo subtly gesture for Archer to check his phone, and Archer did. As soon as we sat down, I saw him glance at the screen, his fingers tapping at something.

"Mr. Monroe," Principal Vernon addressed me. "Your son assaulted Philip Glenn. This is his father, Arthur Glenn."

The alpha didn’t offer a handshake. Didn’t even look at us. Just stared straight at the principal.

Philip and Josef were dead silent, their eyes darting everywhere except in our direction.

"I think this situation has escalated to the point where we need to take serious action—" Vernon started.

That’s when Archer spoke up. "Are we going to review the evidence of what happened?"

"Evidence?"

"The school has a pretty decent surveillance system."

The principal cleared his throat and glanced at Mr. Glenn. "Not all of those systems are fully functional… not every camera is always in use."

"Well, that’s a problem. Because, as far as I know, the law in our state requires a fully operational surveillance system. And I think it was active. Actually, I KNOW it was. The real question is whether we’ll have access to the footage."

"That’s not really relevant at this moment—"

"How is it not? It’s the starting point. But I get that obtaining those recordings might be an issue on your end. Which is why I have another source."

Archer stood up and walked over to the principal, showing him his phone.

"These are recordings that clearly show Igor’s interactions with his classmates. I think they make it pretty obvious who the instigator was."

Principal Vernon lowered his gaze to the screen.

"Philip Glenn and his friend repeatedly threw sexual slurs at Igor. They even wrote them on the classroom whiteboard."

Archer turned toward Mr. Glenn and held up his phone, displaying a photo of the board with the words:

"Igor - daily blow job $5, on Fridays: free."

The picture showed Philip laughing while writing it.

"Even though we reported this at our last meeting, it looks like nothing was actually done about it. And here’s today’s incident. As you can see, Igor wasn’t the one provoking anyone—he was just trying to leave the locker room."

Archer raised his hand again, playing a video where Igor was trying to squeeze past Josef, who blocked him with his arm.

I stared at Archer in shock, ready to part my legs right here in the middle of the room and let him fuck me. The gratitude I felt was unreal.

Archer let his gaze sweep across the room. "What was Igor supposed to do? Just stand there and let himself get beaten to a pulp again?"

Silence. Then Archer swiped forward, replaying the clip.

"Igor threw exactly one punch—a well-placed one that stopped his opponent. I don’t really see how anyone can blame him here."

A tense silence followed. Vernon and the counselor shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Finally, Vernon muttered, "I’d like to remind you that last Friday, Igor was the one who threw the first punch…"

"And he was punished for that, wasn’t he? He was punched too—one for one. Fair? May I also remind you that you were the one who said there was no need to drag it out. A quote: ‘We can just sweep that incident under the rug.’ So why not do the same here?"

Vernon pressed his lips together, avoiding Mr. Glenn’s gaze.

Archer didn’t back down. "Unless, of course, you’d like to bring that event back up—though, in that case, we should probably take a closer look at all the footage showing exactly how Igor was repeatedly bullied. A complete review. If you’re having trouble retrieving this footage, I’d be happy to help. I’m a system security specialist—I’ll make sure all the data is extracted from the… CCTV system."

An unexpected ally stepped in.

"I don’t think that’s necessary. This nonsense needs to end right here, right now," Philip's father’s firm voice carried through the room.

He turned to his son. "Is there something you’re not telling me? Any reason why you have an issue with Igor?"

Philip blinked in shock, clearly not expecting his father to ask this.

"It was just a joke, Fa!"

Mr. Glenn narrowed his eyes. "Then it ends now. I don’t want to be called down to the school again. I had to step out of a board meeting for this nonsense, and I’m not doing it again. Got it?"

Philip cleared his throat awkwardly. "Nothing big happened—"

"Not another word. Leave the boy alone. And seriously—flirting with an alpha? What’s that supposed to be? Aren’t there enough omegas?"

"I wasn’t flirting!" Philip almost screamed, panic in his eyes. "It was just a silly prank, Fa!"

"No more ‘pranks’. If I get called in again, there will be consequences. No money, no car for you."

Silence filled the room.

The principal cleared his throat. "On a formal note, this is the second fight—"

"I suggest we sweep this one under the rug too," Glenn said harshly, locking eyes with Vernon. "It’s only fair."

For a moment, they had a silent standoff.

"This meeting is over," the principal finally concluded in a clipped tone, crossing his arms and briefly glancing at the counselor, whose face was sour. Nelson surely didn’t look happy about how it had been handled…

Mr. Glenn stood up, grabbed his son’s arm, and walked out, with Josef hurrying after them.

I figured there was no point in dragging this out either, so I also leapt to my feet, giving Igor a small nod.

Together, we stepped into the hallway.

"Igor, I hope Milo will be safe. If those two get any ideas, they might figure out where the recordings came from." Archer fixed his eyes on my son.

Igor straightened up slightly. "Obviously, I’ll make sure of it."

Milo blushed slightly and shrugged. "I doubt those idiots can even put two and two together and realize I was the one who recorded it. A bunch of guys from class were filming."

Archer interjected, "I also have copies from the school’s cameras—just in case something ‘inconvenient’ happens to disappear."

"Where did you get that footage?" Igor asked, surprised.

"I’m a hacker, remember?" Archer grinned, and Igor burst out laughing.

"Seriously? Damn, the principal really tried to lie his way out of that one about the cameras not working!"

"I’ve been watching what’s been going on at school for over a week now. I hacked into their system—it’s ridiculously unsecured. I recorded everything."

Igor stared at him, mouth slightly open. Milo, too, was looking at Archer like he was some kind of hero. I must say, I joined the fan club.

"By the way, that was a nice uppercut, Igor. Right on the button," Archer added, glancing at him with his trademark smirk.

"Yeah! I did it like you showed me—you know, from the hip!" Igor seemed proud of himself, still running on adrenaline.

I listened to their conversation in complete shock, while simultaneously feeling a wave of happiness wash over me.

Not only were Igor and Archer actually talking to each other like normal people, but Archer had also worked with Milo to gather solid evidence against those boys—to protect my son and prove his innocence. Incredible.

Even though Igor had treated him so badly, Archer never let that deter him, showing a much more mature approach than me, as I regularly snapped at him and let myself be provoked.

He continued protecting Igor in the best way he could—by teaching him how to defend himself when he had no other choice—and also ensured that the school wouldn’t be able to delete the recordings if anything happened.

When we got in the car, I glanced at Archer as he drove, his face calm and composed.

My gaze drifted over his strong, masculine profile, the sharp cut of his jaw, and his large hands gripping the steering wheel.

Archer must have sensed me looking because he shot me a quick glance.

"Thank you," I whispered, squeezing my thighs together to stop my hole from clenching.

"For what?" he asked.

"For everything."

"There’s no need. I’m his guardian."

"And yet…"

Archer didn’t respond. Soon, we arrived home, Milo accompanied us.

The younger boys weren’t back yet—after everything that happened, Igor had been sent home early. So I was surprised when, as soon as we stepped onto the driveway, he turned to Archer and asked, "So, are we training today?"

"Of course," Archer answered with a wink.

Later that same afternoon, Igor’s bedroom door was put back in place.

I was a bit surprised when he went there with Milo, and they played computer games together. Obviously, their friendship had also gained something from the whole situation.

Did that mean the permanent end of Igor’s rebellious phase?

I hoped it was at least a solid step in that direction.

That evening, I went to Archer’s room. As usual, his door was open. He was sitting on the bed, wearing nothing but his boxers.

That made me happy—it was a sign that something had changed also between us.

His blue eyes locked onto mine, glinting with quiet amusement.

"You weren’t angry today, despite Igor’s involvement in the fight," he said in a low tone.

It was my turn to smirk. I stepped closer without saying a word—it wasn’t needed.

He was still sitting at the edge of the bed, in the perfect position for me to wrap my arms around his neck.

Feeling bold, I kissed him with extra passion.

My hands moved over his shoulders and down his back, my fingers tracing slow, gentle lines.

This kiss was different—it came from deep within me. Archer’s hands lifted, sliding into my hair, which cascaded over my hips.

I tried to push him back onto the bed, wanting him to fall beneath me… but Archer didn’t let that happen. In one swift motion, he caught me midair—and now I was the one pinned underneath him.

Then, unexpectedly, our bodies pressed tightly together, practically bare, and the realization hit me hard. My breath caught in my chest.

This was the first time since my heat—the one that had resulted in Lake—that I lay beneath an almost-naked man.

For a brief moment, it felt like my first time all over again.

I knew we weren’t going all the way tonight, but the anticipation of what was about to happen had my pulse racing.

Now, Archer and I just stared at each other. Was he just as taken aback as I was? After all these years, after everything, here we were. Another step forward. A shift in whatever had been building between us.

Slowly, deliberately, he leaned down, brushing his lips over my forehead, then my cheek, before finally ghosting them over my mouth.

I shivered and reached for more, but he pulled back just slightly. That teasing smirk told me he was savoring this—savoring having me under him.

His weight was solid, heavy in a way that made it a little hard to breathe but also grounded me, made me feel enclosed, covered, safe. Like his body was anchoring me in place, quieting my usual nerves, settling my anxious energy.

He tilted his head, his lips trailing lower—my cheek, my jaw, then down to my neck gland. The soft press of his mouth there sent a light, ticklish sensation through me, quickly morphing into something hotter.

I wanted him to bite me, even though I knew he wouldn’t. The urge was so strong, I trembled, producing a low sound in AO language, signaling my arousal as I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck.

His lips lingered, sucking lightly, and a shudder ran through me, waves of soft, intoxicating pleasure spreading outward.

Archer’s hands slid beneath my shirt, fingers skimming my ribs, making me jolt at the ticklish shock of it. Then they traveled up, finding my nipples, and I let out the most embarrassingly high-pitched squeak.

My aching cock, pinned between us, throbbed, reminding him exactly what I needed.

He lifted his head, locking eyes with me.

"So?" he murmured. "Next step?"

"Oh, absolutely," I rasped.

He shifted downward, his face now hovering over my cock, which twitched desperately in anticipation. The flushed head stood out, practically an exclamation mark pointing him to exactly where I needed him.

Archer smirked, pressing a soft kiss to the tip. Not enough. Nowhere near enough. And he knew it. That’s why he didn’t make me wait too long. His lips dragged along the length of me, then back up, sending shivers straight to my core. Then, without warning, he took me into his mouth and sucked.

Another squeaky, humiliating sound left me as my legs instinctively spread wide, almost into a full split, in an encouraging move. At the same time, I knew this wouldn’t last long. His fingers brushed teasingly over my tight, twitching entrance, and then he sucked harder, taking me even deeper—and that was it.

"Archer, I—" I could only get this out before I was gone, moaning and whining as I came with an eruptive intensity.

He swallowed everything, licking me clean, and for a moment, there was a strange look on his face—like something had surprised him. He didn’t say anything, though. Maybe he was just shocked by how fast I’d finished? Or maybe something else. Either way, he lifted his head, and our eyes met.

I was grinning stupidly.

"That was… quick. Guess all those years of celibacy—"

He chuckled. "Oh, River, don’t stress about it. Everything’s fine. You’re exactly what I want. Everything about you works for me." His voice was authoritative, leaving no room for argument.

We just looked at each other for a moment before I blurted, "I keep coming here… You probably think I’m kinda slutty."

He raised an eyebrow. "I don’t think that at all. But if you wanna be slutty with me, I’ve got zero complaints." His smirk was roguish.

My gaze dropped to his still-hard cock, and I reached for him. "I wanna return the favor…"

"By all means."

I didn’t have to feel bad about how fast I’d finished. Archer wasn’t far behind. The moment I wrapped my hand around his ridiculously thick, engorged dick, I knew he was close. When he came, his eyes were locked onto mine, intense, unwavering.

"Red River…" he murmured, breathless. "Soon, I will dive into you."

"I wait for this day, alpha."

***

We had planned a trip to a nearby waterfall for the weekend—a beautiful spot and a popular destination for hikers and tourists. A bridge stretched over the river right where the water broke over the rocks, creating an impressive cascade. People leaned over the railing, snapping selfies with the colorful rainbows forming in the mist.

You could drive almost right up to the bridge, where a parking lot was set up with a few small food stands selling fast food to visitors.

As usual, Lake insisted on riding on Archer’s shoulders. The rest of us just jumped out of the car and rushed toward the waterfall, which was only about fifty yards from the parking lot. It wasn’t too crowded today, probably because of the gloomy weather.

Soon, we were all standing on the bridge, watching the spectacular rainbows rise above the water. The atmosphere was nice—we talked and laughed. Igor leaned over the railing, recording the foamy cascades crashing down into the river below.

Even Lake got off Archer’s back for once, peeking shyly over the banister and giggling whenever the mist sprayed his face.

Eventually, though, he’d had enough. He turned to me and said, "I’m hungry. Can we get some fries from one of those stands over there?" He pointed to the small booth selling burgers and fries near the parking lot.

"All right," I replied. "Let’s all go grab a snack, and then maybe we can take a walk to the other side of the bridge. There are some cool scenic rocks over there."

"What? We’re leaving already? I wanted to record more shots of the waterfall," Igor grumbled. "I was hoping Van could help me take some good pictures…"

Van raised an eyebrow but shrugged. "What? Why me?"

Igor opened and closed his mouth, but nothing came out.

"Is this the beta-helper thing again? Alphas are for winning, betas are for helping?" Van narrowed his eyes.

"That’s not it! Just… I need help." Igor grimaced slightly, sending him a glare. "From a brother."

Van’s face seemed a bit puzzled, but he shrugged. "Anyway. Sure, I can do that. But bring me some fries, okay?"

I sighed. "Fine, you can stay a little longer. Just don’t do anything stupid, like leaning too far over the railing or something."

Igor rolled his eyes and looked away. "Don’t worry about me. We’ll just take a few pictures and catch up with you guys."

With that, Archer, Aiden, Lake, and I walked off toward the food stands, where a small crowd had gathered.

Lake immediately started demanding to be carried again, but I shut that down quickly, telling him he could handle walking fifty yards on his own.

He started grumbling about how he was tired and hadn’t slept well because Igor had stayed up late making weird videos in his room and talking with Milo on the computer microphone. But when Archer saw my irritation over Lake’s whining, he just replied in a light tone, "It’s only thirty more yards. We’re almost there."

That seemed to do the trick—Lake huffed but kept walking.

Just as I was about to step into line at one of the stands, I noticed something strange. A few people at the back of the crowd were staring toward the bridge, some even pointing.

I turned around—

And what I saw made my heart stop.

Igor was walking along the bridge railing. Arms outstretched for balance. Van was filming him.

My chest tightened with sheer terror.

"Archer!" My voice came out high-pitched as I grabbed his arm. He spun around instantly and saw Igor’s unsteady steps on the narrow railing.

For a split second, our eyes met. His brow furrowed, and he gave me a small nod—like a silent promise. Then, without a word, Archer took off running toward the bridge.

I knew why he didn’t yell. He didn’t want to startle Igor. He was going to grab him from behind—stop him before he could panic and slip.

But Archer didn’t even make it halfway when the thing no parent ever wants to witness happened.

Igor wobbled.

People screamed.

And then—

He fell.

Down into the waterfall.

Time seemed to slow.

It felt like something had pierced straight through my heart, sucking the air from my lungs.

For half a second, I saw it all—

The day he was born.

The first time I held him, so tiny and fragile.

My little son. My beautiful child.

And in that single, horrifying moment, I understood—no one could save him. Not anymore.

The water beneath the waterfall was a deep, swirling pit, carved out by the relentless current. No one could survive a force like that.

Today… I lost my son.

My legs buckled beneath me. I couldn’t even run there. I couldn’t do anything. My body was frozen in pure, crushing paralysis.

I could only choke out a strangled, "No!"—barely more than a hoarse gasp.

Lake and Aiden stood motionless beside me, just as stunned.

But then—

To my shock—

Archer didn’t keep running toward the bridge. Instead, he turned—racing in the opposite direction. Toward the car. I didn’t understand.

Wide-eyed, I watched, everything still feeling like some surreal, slow-motion nightmare.

"Igor," I whispered, my voice breaking. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t.

Tears streamed down my face in an unstoppable flood.

Meanwhile, Archer reached the car. He yanked something from the trunk—a long coil of rope. From a distance, it looked like the climbing gear he and Van had bought recently to explore some local rock formations.

I was still frozen in shock, watching as he sprinted back toward the bridge.

My mind couldn’t make sense of it. What was he doing?

I never thought someone as tall and broad as Archer could run so fast.

By the time he reached the bridge, a crowd had gathered around him. I couldn’t see what was happening.

Heart pounding, I grabbed Aiden and Lake’s hands and ran toward them.

Every step was agony. My mind screamed that it was impossible—no one could save Igor.

But I realized that Archer was trying. And for the first time, a tiny, desperate spark of hope flickered inside me.

But with it came something else—a paralyzing fear.

Because if Archer tried, if he really tried—I might lose him too.

Lake was sobbing, and Aiden let out desperate whimpers as we reached the crowd of people. I shoved my way through them brutally, only to witness the moment Archer disappeared over the railing.

The rope was tied to one of the posts. I only caught a glimpse of his head before it vanished beyond the stone edge of the bridge.

"No!" I groaned, torn between conflicting emotions—hope and shock. Terrified that he wouldn’t be able to save Igor. Terrified that he wouldn’t be able to save himself.

I lunged toward the railing and looked down. For a fraction of a second, Archer lifted his head, and our eyes met.

"Archer, don’t do this," I whispered, though I so desperately wanted him to do this and save Igor. But I already knew it would be impossible.

Anyone with even a basic understanding of physics, of the force of water, of nature’s raw power, would know that… The thought of losing him too tore my heart in half—already shattered by the realization that my son, my Igor, was gone. That I would never see him again… Waterfalls like these had those backwashes, currents that were so hard to escape.

Archer didn’t react to my words. He was lowering himself down the rope quickly, and before long, the rushing waters swallowed him.

I stared into the churning rapids. The place where Igor had fallen was, thankfully, slightly to the side—not directly under the waterfall’s strongest torrent. The water was thinner there. But I knew that the moment he hit the river below, it wouldn’t matter. The powerful currents swirling there could have carried him anywhere.

Clutching the railing, sobbing, I kept repeating, "No, no, no," fixated on the roiling surface below. The mist rising from the cascading water partially obscured my vision.

Beside me, Lake was wailing loudly, clinging to my side. Aiden was shouting—screaming something—I didn’t even know what words. I glanced around and saw Van, holding his phone, deathly pale, nearly paralyzed.

Around us, people stood frozen, doing nothing. Some recorded the scene on their phones, while others peered down, maybe searching for Archer’s head amidst the foaming whirlpools.

Their faces showed a mix of pity. Some watched it all as if it were just a spectacle. Only one person stepped forward—a frail, elderly omega. He approached me with sorrow in his eyes and whispered, "Don’t worry, sweetheart. Maybe he’ll make it?"

A raw, desperate sob tore from my throat. I looked at the water again, but I still saw nothing. How much time had passed since Igor fell? Two minutes? Three? Every second meant less of a chance, less hope that he’d survive unscathed—if he survived at all. How long could he last without air before his brain was irreparably damaged?

It had all happened so fast, yet every minute felt like an eternity. The deafening roar of the waterfall, the damp air—I felt my fingers aching from gripping the wet railing too tightly, my whole body trembling.

At one point, darkness crept into my vision, and I nearly lost consciousness. I swayed on my feet, struggling to breathe, as if I were drowning myself. I wanted to scream, to break free from the suffocating panic. I squeezed my eyes shut, and suddenly, I saw it—the foamy water’s surface, bright and churning, just within reach. I had to get there! I had to try!

I saw my hands gripping the rope, pulling me up slowly… Would I make it? Would I reach the surface in time? My lungs burned, ready to burst… Two more feet. Half a foot! Now!

And then—relief. My lungs sucked in air. I gasped and opened my eyes. People were shouting, pointing.

What did just happen? What was this vision?

Down below, the rope had gone taut. Something was clinging to it.

I couldn’t believe my own eyes—Archer’s head emerged. But not just his. Another head beside his.

The elderly omega cried out, "I see them! They’re both there!"

Even now, I couldn’t allow myself to believe it. It was too improbable, too miraculous.

Not until people grabbed the rope and started pulling.

Several men began hoisting the rope up. At its end, Archer clung tightly, carrying Igor’s limp body over his shoulder.

My son’s head lolled forward against his chest, and my heart stopped again. Was it too late? Had all of Archer’s effort, all of his courage, been for nothing?

But the men worked quickly, knowing that every second was precious.

As soon as Archer and Igor were close enough, two other alphas reached over the railing and pulled Igor up. One of the onlookers, an omega, shouted, "I’m a doctor! I can help!" and rushed to Igor’s side.

Everyone hovered over him, pressing on his chest, forcing water from his lungs. I stood there like an idiot while my own son was being saved—shaking like a leaf in the wind, silently begging Fate to have mercy, to let him live just this one more time.

Then suddenly, I felt wet hands gripping my back. I lifted my head—it was Archer. Soaking wet, his eyes locked onto mine.

"Archer…" I choked out. I couldn’t believe it—I was staring at him—whole, alive. "You saved my son—"

"It’s okay, River, it’s okay…" he muttered.

Lake and Aiden stood beside Van, who had his arms wrapped around them. They were all watching Igor, who was still being resuscitated. It was only then that something in me snapped back into place, and I rushed toward him.

His hands were so cold! The omega doctor pressed hard against Igor’s chest, his movements firm and desperate.

"Igor, please, I’m begging you! Come back to me, son—come back to me!" I sobbed, gripping his limp hand, lifeless in mine.

And then—a miracle.

Igor coughed.

"He's alive! He’s alive!" The words echoed through the surrounding crowd.

Some people started clapping. A few shook Archer’s hand. Phones were out, recording him, recording Igor.

The world tilted—I nearly fainted from relief. I didn’t know what state he was in yet, but the moment I saw his dazed eyes flutter open, a wave of emotion crashed over me so hard I could barely breathe. I trembled, sobbing—loudly, more desperately than before.

Archer wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close.

"He’s going to be okay, River. He’s alive," he murmured, his hand smoothing over my hair.

I clung to his wet body, still overwhelmed, still in shock.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Thank you, Archer…"

He gave a small, familiar smile. "Hey, you don’t have to thank me. I’m his guardian—it’s my duty."

I shook my head. "No… this goes beyond anything a guardian is supposed to do. You’re a hero. You’ll always be my hero."

Tears poured down my face as I pressed it against his chest, and he just held me, his hand gently stroking my hair, his grip steadying me.

The shock, the terror… I still felt dizzy, on the verge of collapsing from relief.

Twenty minutes later, the ambulance arrived. Igor was thoroughly examined, and the doctor decided he should be taken to the hospital for observation, just to be safe.

So we all went with him.

Fortunately, he had suffered only minor effects from the near-drowning—just cold and exhaustion. In fact, the low water temperature may have worked in his favor by slowing his metabolism and reducing his body's oxygen consumption, preventing his brain from being deprived too quickly.

Listening to the doctors, Igor was so quiet. He avoided my gaze.

The physicians checked him over, running tests while he lay there.

During a short break, Van scooted up beside him and showed him a video on his phone.

Igor’s eyes locked onto the screen, his expression shifting as he took it in. Then, slowly, he lifted his gaze to Archer.

Until now, he hadn’t known who had saved him—he’d been unconscious the whole time. But seeing it now, watching the footage… something changed in him. His lips trembled, and then, to my shock, a single tear rolled down his cheek.

"It was you, you saved me," he whispered, his voice shaky. "The one person I treated the worst…"

Archer gave a small, casual shrug. "Yeah, well… it kinda turned out that way. Though I wouldn’t have managed it without Van’s climbing rope," he added with a smirk, patting Igor lightly on the shoulder.

Van rolled his eyes. "Oh no, don’t drag me into this. I had nothing to do with it! This was all you, man. You’re the hero!"

Aiden and Lake stood nearby, watching everything unfold. They still looked shaken—like they weren’t ready to believe it was really over, almost scared to feel relieved.

Then Van leaned down toward Igor and smirked. "You’re gonna love this—it’s all on video. Not just your rescue! Your fall too, you waking up… all of it."

"Van!" I snapped. The moment of relief was over, and anger took its place. "You cannot be serious. What the hell were you thinking?! Was this whole thing just about filming some stupid video?"

Igor threw his hands up, as if trying to physically stop me. "Absolutely not! The video was supposed to just be me walking on the railing! Other guys post that kind of stuff all the time—I wasn’t planning on falling off a damn waterfall!" He rolled his eyes and bit his lip. Then, after a pause, he added, "But I need to upload it before the random bystanders do…"

I let out an exasperated huff. "Igor, do you even understand what happened? Do you get how insanely lucky you are to be alive? In any other scenario, if Archer and that rope hadn’t been there… you wouldn’t have made it. Do you understand that you came inches from death today?"

Igor looked at me—really looked at me—with an expression I hadn’t seen before.

"I know, Dad," he replied quietly. "And honestly… I don’t even know how to repay Archer for this."

I scoffed. "How about starting with actually listening to him? By realizing that he’s looking out for you and wants what’s best for you?" There was a sharp edge to my voice—I couldn’t help it.

Igor nodded, then turned to Archer. "I’m sorry," he said. "For everything. I apologize, Archer. For being an ass. For treating you like crap. You didn’t deserve that. You’re a good guy, and… I’m really glad we ended up at your place."

He hesitated, lifted his hands like he wanted to hug Archer, but Archer just clapped him lightly on the shoulder.

"It’s all good," Archer assured him. "We’ll see how things go once we’re back to normal life—if this whole ‘listening’ thing actually sticks." He gave Igor a lopsided grin. "But one thing’s for sure—no more risky stunts. No more walking on railings, no more climbing wild cliffs, no more dangerous bullshit. Got it? Life is worth more than views and internet clout."

"I promise," Igor said quickly, nodding. But I had a weird feeling—like his mind was already racing, calculating how many hits his video would get once he posted it…

***

Igor had to stay at the hospital for observation overnight.

Van, Aiden, and Lake seemed to handle the whole thing surprisingly well after their initial emotions settled down. Now that everything had turned out okay, they almost treated it like some wild adventure rather than a near-tragedy.

I wish I could say the same for myself.

That night, I found myself in Archer’s room. I hesitated for only a second before asking, "Can I lie with you?"

He made an inviting gesture. "Of course."

It was the first night we spent like that—together in the same bed. Nothing happened, not after a day like this. I was too drained, too shaken. But lying there, pressed against his strong shoulder, felt… right.

At some point, I whispered, "This might make me a terrible parent, but when I saw you disappear over that railing, I was scared for you too, Archer." My voice cracked. "Igor seemed lost forever, and I was so damn scared I’d never see you again too… Two tragedies."

Archer just pulled me closer.

"I couldn’t let him die, River," he murmured. "I made a promise to take care of your family. And I meant it. Like they were my own. If I hadn’t jumped after him… I would’ve failed you."

A strong wave of emotion surged in my chest, but I forced it down. Instead, I held him tighter, burying my face against his chest.

"I think I’m falling for you, Archer," I whispered—so quietly, I wasn’t even sure he heard me. "I couldn’t have found a better man if I tried."

He tilted my face up, so our eyes met in the dim light.

"I don’t even have to say it," he said softly. "Because I’ve been gone for you since the moment I saw you. No matter how ridiculous that sounds… it’s always been there."

I swallowed. "I’m yours, Archer."

He simply nodded.

Then, a thought struck me.

"Archer… I wanted to ask you something."

He arched a brow. "Shoot."

"That little islet on the lake… you know, the one with all the trees. Wanna go there tomorrow? Just you and me. We’ll bring a blanket, pack some picnic stuff… make it a real date."

Archer smiled widely.

"Tomorrow, I’ll pump up the pontoon."

***

Early in the morning, we picked Igor up from the hospital.

He was different. Quieter. More thoughtful. And definitely way more well-behaved than usual. I noticed the way he glanced at Archer—almost shy, with a hint of admiration and gratitude.

When we brought him home, Milo was already there with the rest of my boys, waiting for him. They welcomed Igor warmly—Lake even kissed his cheek. I raised an eyebrow at the surprisingly tight hug Milo gave Igor, but I decided not to overthink it.

We all sat down for breakfast, inviting Oliver to join us. The conversation stayed light; no one directly brought up the fact that Igor had nearly died, but it lingered in the air.

There was an unspoken understanding between us, a quiet appreciation that we were all still here together—that Fate had spared us from another tragedy.

Not long after we finished breakfast, when I started getting ready for our island picnic, my phone unexpectedly rang.

The name on the screen shocked me.

"Sam?"

"River."

A short but intense silence. It was almost hard to believe that he had called. So soon? After that tedious convo? A bit strange.

Then, he let out a heavy breath.

"I saw Igor’s video blowing up online."

"Oh."

"I’m really sorry this happened, and I just wanted to check in… How are you holding up?" His voice wavered slightly.

Hearing that Igor had already posted his video—probably still lying in his hospital bed—brought a mix of frustration and unease.

But I had to say something to Sam. Even though I appreciated the gesture, the hurt from our last conversation still lingered, and I wasn't ready to make up.

"I gotta say, I’m a little surprised you’re calling, Sam. After our last talk, I didn’t think I’d hear from you… ever again. You made what you think about me very clear."

Maybe I could’ve risen above my feelings, but the hurt was still way too fresh.

Sam was quiet for a moment before speaking softly.

"River, you know I love you…"

"Stop, Sam. Don’t give me that. Don’t sweet-talk me."

"But I do, River! I know how it sounds, like just an empty word. But you’re still my best friend."

"The awful, selfish person who splits families? How come, Sam?"

The bitterness just poured out of me.

"Okay… Listen, for a second, I really thought you took advantage of Archer! I did! But I don’t want to think that way, and I don’t want this to ruin our friendship. I said too much, and I’m sorry. I just… I hope you’ll forgive me. Someday. That’s all I want to say…"

I exhaled deeply. What could I even say? He had the right to see things his own way. I knew he only wanted the best for Archer. If I were in his shoes, would I have felt the same?

But I was also hurt that our friendship wasn’t enough to stop him from saying the most painful things, and that was just… disappointing.

"I appreciate that, Sam. But I won’t lie—it still doesn’t sit right with me, everything that went down between us. And after what happened yesterday… I just don’t want to dwell on it right now. But thank you for calling."

Silence. Sam had to have picked up on the distance in my voice, the wall I couldn’t bring myself to lower.

"River, please don’t be mad at me," he pleaded, his voice wavering. "It was just… a shock, you know? Finding out you kissed him when he was sixteen. I needed time to process that, and before I could, I kind of… word-vomited all over you. I’m so sorry…"

"I get it, Sam. The age gap looks bad. But I never meant to hurt Archer or take advantage of him. I didn’t encourage his interest in me. I know that, as his brother, you probably saw it differently. But I know my own heart. And I’ve paid for that kiss—I carried that guilt for years. It wasn’t some easy, carefree moment for me. I hated myself for it!"

Sam hesitated before speaking again.

"I really do wish you both the best. More than anything, I want my brother to be happy—to have a family, because that’s all he’s ever wanted. Funny thing is, I was always the one telling him great things about you. Maybe, deep down, I liked the idea of you two together? I just hope this works out for you guys."

"I hope so too. Archer is… incredible. He saved Igor’s life in an impossible situation. He’ll always be my hero. He has my respect, my loyalty, and my commitment… always."

Sam took a deep breath.

"Then I’m rooting for you guys. And I really am sorry for what I said—it was cruel and unfair. I know you’re a good man, River." He paused for a beat before adding, "Tell Igor his Uncle Sam is glad he’s safe and sound."

As he disconnected, I sat there for a while, staring at the picnic basket, still feeling sad but also a bit more hopeful.

Maybe there was still a chance for us, after all. I had always been a firm believer that even the worst things could be forgiven. Sometimes, for the sake of our own mental health, it was better to let go of a grudge. In the same way—I hoped my parents would find it in their hearts to forgive me for the cruel words I had thrown at them.

Maybe I should lead by example? Yep, definitely a challenge, but it was worth at least trying.

That afternoon, Archer and I left the kids at home under Oliver’s watch. Igor was still stuck in bed, already getting cranky about having to stay put. Then Milo volunteered to keep him company, and Igor’s mood seemed to improve quickly.

Archer and I grabbed some blankets and a… very full picnic basket. When Lake saw us, he immediately wanted to come along, but I shut that down real quick.

"This is a date, kid. Just me and Archer. No third wheels allowed."

***

I had a perfectly laid-out plan in my head, and I intended to follow through with all of it.

Archer looked completely relaxed as he put the picnic basket into the pontoon.

"You ever been to this island before?" I asked once we were both on board.

"Only once, and just for a short while. I paddled over out of curiosity, but since it’s government-owned land, not mine, I never really felt the urge to go back. Though I have to admit, it’s pretty nice—there’s even a little clearing in the middle."

"A clearing? That sounds promising." I smiled, glancing coyly at Archer.

He was wearing a dark blue T-shirt that made his intense eyes stand out even more, and the fabric clung to his muscular arms in a way that was… distracting. Every stroke of the paddle made his muscles flex under his skin, a mesmerizing spectacle.

Feeling like it, I let my hair down, letting the wind play with it. Right after, I noticed Archer’s increasingly frequent sneaky glances at me, accompanied by a small smile. He was clearly having a hard time focusing on rowing.

When we reached the shore, I jumped out first, eager to explore. A small beach stretched out before us, with reeds and water lilies lining the rest of the bank. Archer grabbed the blankets while I carried the basket, and we ventured into the wood.

"The clearing is not far from here," Archer said, pointing ahead. I followed him, and soon we stepped out of the shade of the trees into a small open space—where I froze.

It was covered in a sea of red flowers I’d never seen before!

They looked like poppies but were slightly smaller, forming a dense, breathtakingly beautiful red carpet. The whole island had this magical aura, and my heart immediately sped up.

"Wow… this place is stunning," I whispered.

"The perfect spot for our first date," Archer added, looking around. "Honestly, I didn’t know it was this gorgeous. The last time I was here, the flowers weren’t blooming."

He set the picnic stuff down and straightened up, his gaze drifting back to me.

Then, out of nowhere, he reached out and took a strand of my hair between his fingers.

"These flowers… they’re almost the same color. How is your hair this red, though? Your dad’s blond, and your father’s… I didn’t get a good look at him, but I thought his hair was dark."

I smiled softly. "My father has dark chestnut hair. When he was little, it was auburn. My hair is right in the middle between both of theirs."

"It’s beautiful," Archer murmured, twirling the strand around his fingers. We were standing so close now. I could feel his warmth, his presence—like he was already embracing me without even trying.

"I’ve been under its spell since the first day I saw it."

"There were so many times I wanted to cut it," I whispered, "but I never did—because you told me not to."

"Really? It’s this long because of me? We hadn’t even seen each other back then."

I gave him a wistful smile. "It probably sounds silly, but yeah… I kept it for you. Even years later, whenever I thought about cutting it, I’d remember, 'Archer loved it’. It felt like a keepsake from the way you… admired it."

Now we were pressed so close together that my chest rested lightly against his stomach.

And that’s when I whispered it.

"I feel it, deep inside me. Completely. Like it’s ready to come out."

I lifted my hand, placing it over his heart.

"I surrender to you, Archer. In the way you wanted. I understand now."

Our eyes locked, and it felt like our minds were strangely connected.

His hand slid slowly up my arm, disappearing under my hair until his palm rested on the back of my neck. When his fingers touched my bare skin, I shivered hard.

I lowered my head, pressing my forehead against his chest.

"I’m yours, Archer," I mumbled. "Do whatever you want with me."

Then I started moving lower, kissing a path down his torso. Over his solar plexus, near his navel… then finally pressing a kiss to the outline of his hardness through his black sweatpants.

And then I sank to my knees, looking up at him with wide-open eyes.

"I submit. Please… do me the honor and enter my body today. Claim me. Make me yours."

"Strip, River."

His voice was low and velvety, his gaze intense.

Still on my knees, I started undressing. I pulled off my T-shirt and then my red shorts, which clung tightly to my ass. Over the past few weeks, I’d put on even more weight, which I was happy about—my bum always filled out first, becoming rounder, fuller.

Now completely naked, I remained kneeling in the grass. I bowed my head in submission.

Only one part of me refused to submit. My cock stood bold and proud, fully hard, showing no interest in bowing to Archer—only demanding what it usually wanted. A real single-issue voter.

Archer took the blanket and, with one motion, spread it out so it settled evenly over the ground.

I waited for his command, not moving an inch.

Then Archer pointed at the blanket.

"Present."

I crawled toward it on all fours, my cock heavy between my legs. A trail of pre-cum stuck to my inner thigh. I climbed onto the blanket, trying not to seem too eager, aiming for something more composed, more submissive—but it was nearly impossible.

Every part of me ached to be taken.

I arched my back, presenting myself to him, tilting my hips backward as much as possible. My forehead rested against the blanket, knees spread wide enough to give him a good view of my hole… and my balls hanging between my legs.

Archer stayed silent.

I felt his eyes on me, attentively inspecting my hole.

The awareness that he was standing right behind me sent another rush of warmth through me, making me even more desperate. I couldn’t see his face, couldn’t read his expression—I could only let him look.

"You look like you’re in heat."

The moment he said it, I felt a clenching sensation deep inside my muscle ring. Yeah… I did feel weirdly wound up, maybe too much, but I ignored it.

I didn’t say a word—just let out a soft whimper of submission.

I heard Archer crouch down, then kneel behind me.

Silence. He was still just… looking at my hole.

God, why was it so fucking hot? Something about being so shamelessly displayed for him made my whole body burn. It was twisted—humiliating and arousing all at the same time.

"On your back."

I immediately flipped over. Now Archer was kneeling between my legs, looking down at me. I spread my thighs open while he studied my crotch and my obscenely protruding dick.

Our eyes met.

Then Archer smiled slightly and slowly leaned over me, propping himself on his elbows, one on either side of my head.

His face hovered inches from mine.

"I wanted to tell you something…" I murmured. "I never slept with him after you kissed me."

Archer was silent.

"You know what’s funny?" I continued. "Even when I was in heat, I didn’t want him with me. After one heat where I used a dildo, he said that next time, he’d do it for me. But me? Next time, I took the blockers. So it never happened."

Archer just watched me.

"Honestly, what I’m about to say is awful, but… I’ve thought about us before," I admitted, my face burning. "Not when you were sixteen, but a few years later. It hit me one evening when I realized you were already nineteen, fully legal. I had this thought that if I were ever to cheat on Thomas, it would only be with you."

Archer softly stroked my cheek, and I let out a shaky sigh, embarrassed but wanting to keep going with the story.

"I imagined it—you sneaking into our house at night while Thomas was asleep, snoring under his apnea mask. In fact, we didn’t even sleep in the same room anymore; I had my own little nest. And I pictured the window opening, you… invading our house, not asking for permission, just grabbing me by the neck and fucking me."

A subtle little smirk appeared on Archer's face.

I bit my lip. "You’d do it to me for hours, cumming inside me multiple times, and Thomas would never know, as he slept obliviously in his room. Does that make me a terrible person? A slutty little omega?"

Archer shook his head. "Nah, it just makes you mine. You were mine before you even knew it—since the day you agreed to marry me someday."

"Technically, I never took that nod back."

"Good. Soon, we’ll make it official at city hall."