Page 7 of Red River (Eden’s Omegaverse #4)

River's deep blue-green eyes stayed on my face, but his features were tight with stress.

He hadn’t changed much—not for me. He still looked ten years younger than his actual age, maybe twenty-seven at most. His beautiful face was smooth, his lips sweet and full, his eyelashes incredibly long, and his hair as red and lush as I remembered from the first day we met.

But his overall energy felt different—dimmed—like he’d been carrying a heavy weight on his shoulders. Sam mentioned he was showing early signs of depression and even an emotional breakdown. Ever since Thomas’s health had declined, he’d been overworked and exhausted.

My brother also had sent me an email detailing how those last two weeks had gone: a constant warfront with Igor, Stephen often forced to intervene physically, River on sedatives, a walking mess of nerves… There were moments when Sam found him curled in a ball, shaking and sobbing. Yet, he had rejected Sam’s suggestion to bring in a therapist to help him cope with such extreme stress.

His body bore traces of that stress, too. When I first met him, he was small but fit, his ass always pleasantly protruding. He wasn’t super thin now—he still had those nice, round places—but he no longer had that vibrant, energetic spirit. It truly looked like he’d been carrying a ton of weight, both figuratively and literally, and it had completely drained him.

We stared at each other for a while. River was so small compared to me, so… swallowed up by an anxious, gray aura.

Of course, he must have felt like he was on shaky ground. He didn’t know me—didn’t know how I’d treat his sons. Especially Igor. Would I beat and brutalize him, like so many alpha stepfathers did to their hormonally raging alpha stepsons? Or would I treat him like a black sheep? I couldn’t blame River for worrying.

"Igor was always obedient, respectful to his father," he whispered.

I sighed softly. "I bet he was. In the past. Now, Igor’s hormones are surging—he’s preparing himself to confront me. Sam suggested he may already be in the early stages of Musth ."

"Sam said that? Well, in the last two weeks, when Stephen and Sam were at our house, Stephen stepped in whenever Igor lashed out. Maybe it’s more of a teenage rebellion against new… circumstances?"

"I disagree here, but in any case, he doesn’t see me as an authority figure. And to work on that, I’ll need you on board, River—your acceptance of my methods. Do I have it?"

"I—I accepted you as his guardian. I filled out the papers—"

"That’s not what I asked."

River looked very uneasy. "You don’t need my permission. Legally, you’re in charge now."

I let out a low chuckle. "Again, not what I asked. Sure, I guess I could enforce it regardless of your permission—or lack thereof—but that would turn this house into a rather unpleasant place. And I don’t think that’s the kind of new life you wanted. That’s why I’m asking—do I have your acceptance?"

River looked down, his hands trembling slightly.

"I’ll try to keep things from becoming unbearable. I promise," he uttered, his tone laced with guilt. "This is your space, and we have to follow your rules. But if Igor can’t… I’ll have to find another solution."

"What solution, River?" I kept my voice calm but firm.

He opened his mouth to respond but faltered, coughing and swallowing loudly. It took a lot out of him to blurt out, "If he’s too much… of a disruption… we’ll… leave."

"Where? To your parents? Igor hates them even more than me. He'll fight your father too, and as an elderly alpha, his chances are not great."

"No, I wouldn’t expose my father to it! We would have to find another solution…"

"There are only two solutions. One: safety enforcers take him. Two: you assign him a new government-appointed guardian."

I could see in his eyes what he thought about that. Everyone knew those weren’t people to be trusted. Horror stories circulated about the kinds of alphas Family Services assigned as legal guardians. Nobody in their right mind would recommend it. I tilted my head, my gaze piercing him.

"I—I know…" River stuttered.

After a brief pause, I asked, "Are you worried about how I’ll treat him?"

He blinked nervously before finally admitting, "He attacked Stephen a couple of times. I don't know how you'll react if he does it to you…"

I studied him for a moment, carefully considering my response. "River, I need you to trust me. Either you do, or this won’t work."

"I know," he said, almost whimpering, averting his eyes. "It just doesn’t feel right to push our mess onto you. We barely know each other."

"I can handle a mess, River. Don’t worry about me. It’s you who has to make a decision."

"What do you expect from me?" he asked, his voice so full of stress that I had to stop myself from soothing him. But there were things we needed to establish now, and it required his cooperation.

"I need you fully on board. If Igor senses division between us, his rebellion will intensify. He’ll feel like he has your silent support, and it will fuel him."

River cleared his throat and, after a deep breath, muttered, "I don’t want that."

"So what do you want?"

River shook his head nervously, staying silent as he stared at the floor.

"What’s the real problem? Be honest with me."

He closed his eyes, and I knew he was finally ready to say it out loud.

"Igor lost his father—the man he loved deeply. His world collapsed, and he’s suffering. But he doesn’t show it through tears. This whole ‘takeover’ attempt was a desperate act—and it ended with a blow to his self-worth, becoming his failure. All my kids cried the first week after Thomas died. But Igor? Nothing. He’s completely blocked. In shock."

I leaned against the hallway wall, crossing my arms. The sound of the other kids exploring their rooms, laughing and calling out to each other, echoed in the background.

But River and I stood here, locked in a tense moment.

"He’s not blocked in a normal way," I said evenly. "I think it’s latent Musth , River. And you’ll likely see proof of it in the next few days. He can’t show emotions because his hormones won’t let him surrender. Stephen kept it manageable, but he wasn’t Igor’s real opponent. I am. And his body knows it. He’s waiting for my moment of weakness—to take over."

River’s wide blue-green eyes stared at me, full of vulnerability.

"What if it’s… his way of mourning? Maybe he just needs more warmth and patience—"

I snorted.

That was the problem here—we weren’t focused on the same thing. There was a difference in how omegas and alphas processed things. Omegas needed gentleness, empathy, and understanding because their energy was different—more complex and intricate. But alphas needed a strong, simple structure and order to control their violent animal nature.

"If Igor is constantly excused because he’s grieving, it will destabilize him. It will turn him into a monster, River. He needs structure and to start building his character now, despite his pain."

"A… monster?"

"Constant excuses will only give him more power. He’ll think he can get away with anything because he’s ‘mourning’. It’ll become his ticket to gaining control. It’s a really bad idea, River."

"I… wasn’t planning on—"

"He needs to be confronted at his worst so he can come out of it at his best. That’s how alphas mature—by toughening up."

River still stared at me, his eyes wide.

One reason why the authorities were taking alpha children from omegas was because omegas couldn’t accept this. They tried to treat raging alpha teenagers like omegas or betas—with love and patience. But alphas weren’t like the regular men who once lived on this planet.

Ten times the hormones, plus ferocious instincts.

We could literally turn into killing machines when our fighting mode kicked in.

"We’re beasts inside, River—gentleness won’t tame that. You won’t manage Igor with patience and love alone, no matter how good a parent you are."

"I… understand it, though it’s hard. He’s still my small son."

"And I want to help your… small son by keeping the safety enforcers at bay. But I need you to willingly grant me authority over him. So choose, River. But once you decide, you have to stick to it. Do you understand?"

River let out a sigh. "Yes. I grant you that."

We locked eyes, and I felt a strange wave of relief inside him. It was quite puzzling how precisely I could feel his emotions.

"I know well that my approach failed," River whispered. "I followed my heart because I don't know any other way. I tried talking to him with compassion. After he locked me in my room, I pleaded through the door. I cried and begged. It terrified me that none of it worked. I bargained with him, but it was like talking to a wall. I just… lost him. Yet still, I desperately clung to the idea that he’s still a kid! And kids need love."

I leaned in slowly, lowering my voice. "To reach him, you need to speak in the language of alphas, not omegas. Or he simply won’t react."

Silence fell between us as River’s big eyes searched mine. "I thought the language of love was universal." What he uttered sounded a bit breathless.

His heart pounded loudly, like a small bird’s. I leaned in even closer, my lips near his ear, and said in a deep, low voice, "Not when your blood and every cell in your body is screaming to kill everything that moves, and you don’t know why. In that state, love feels like an open invitation to do just that."

River’s breath quickened. "Some say love is something you should give without limits…"

"Do you give kids sugar without limits?"

He exhaled, like he was carrying a weight he didn’t know how to release.

"You’re right, I don’t. But I don’t know if I can change myself."

"Don’t. Omegas provide a different perspective—one that’s much needed. We complement each other. Omegas can heal what’s hurt and soothe what’s tense. When an alpha accepts an omega’s love, it’s the most beautiful act."

River’s big eyes, up close, seemed less scared now. His pupils dilated, and I subtly smiled.

"You should give Igor softness and love. But… let me also give him structure. Without a balance between the two, everything collapses."

River’s expression shifted—he finally understood. "I don’t want him to collapse. And Igor sees himself as a failure now."

"So we have to make sure he doesn’t, River. He needs an embrace, but a firm one. From both of us."

River nodded slowly, taking deep, shaky breaths. "Yes. I won’t interfere with how you handle him. Just… please, don’t beat him. He might provoke you."

"He sees physical power as the only way to maintain authority. But when the latent Musth ebbs away, he’ll understand—that’s not how real leadership works. That’s not how you gain respect from those you want to lead."

River’s eyes stayed locked on mine. We stood very close to each other, and I continued to speak in a low voice.

Despite my suppressants, I was almost sure I could catch a whiff of his sweet scent, but maybe I was imagining it?

"Will you… be our leader, Archer?" he whispered, his voice soft and breathless.

"I will," I said calmly, "but not the way Igor tried."

River nodded again, and I could feel the frantic, scared energy within him finally begin to disappear. It was really bizarre how well I could sense his nervous system—it was almost like I was looking at an X-ray picture of his emotions.

Slowly, I tilted my head. "Right now, we should go downstairs. The guys from MoveOn company have probably finished unloading your things. We need to get them into the rooms."

River started to follow me, but I stopped and gestured for him to stay. "Where do you think you’re going?"

He blinked. "To help carry the stuff."

"Stay here with the boys. I’ll handle the rest."

He bit his lip. "But Igor’s down there—"

"So?" I raised an eyebrow, my expression slightly amused.

River swallowed hard. "I could reheat some food. You mentioned that."

"If you’d like. Come on, I’ll show you where everything is."

I led him to the kitchen, where I showed him the pot of stew and where to find the dishes and plates. Then I walked out without another word.

Downstairs, by the truck, there was already a big pile of stuff the two movers were finishing unloading.

To my surprise, Igor finally emerged from the driver’s cabin. He stood leaning against its side, looking toward the house. As soon as he saw me approaching, he tensed up. I could see it even from a distance.

He probably thought I would come over to him, but he was wrong. I ignored him and walked up to the movers. "Thank you, gentlemen. Does the service include carrying everything into the house?"

"Yes, of course."

"Great. Follow me inside. River will help us sort everything into the right rooms."

Each of us grabbed an armful of suitcases and headed into the house. As soon as River saw us, he pointed out the different bags. "This one’s Van’s, this one’s Lake’s, this goes to my room."

"Are there any of Igor’s things?" I asked.

"No. His are the two big purple suitcases and the smaller silver one with the laptop."

I said nothing. We carried the bags into the intended rooms with the movers’ help and then went back downstairs. As we walked out, I told the betas, "Leave the two purple suitcases and the silver one with the laptop."

They nodded silently. We made two more trips to get everything into the right rooms, but Igor’s bags stayed on the driveway.

He stood there watching us without a word.

Finally, everything except his stuff was inside. "Thank you, gentlemen. Here’s something for your trouble," I said, handing them a tip. Their faces lit up with wide grins.

They thanked me, got into the truck, and drove off.

There I was, left alone with Igor on the driveway.

He stood still watching me without saying a word.

I was surprised at how he looked.

This boy was really striking—some could even call him beautiful.

He very much resembled his uncle, Skye Nolan, whom he’d never met. No one knew this, not even Sam, but I had lived with Skye in the same dorm room for six months. I also hadn’t told him I knew his estranged brother, River. I had a weird feeling it wasn't something I should mention.

Our eyes met.

Igor’s were a mix of green and gray, and his hair was much darker than River’s fiery shade; it was closer to his uncle’s chestnut color. His face showed all the signs that he’d grow up to be just as handsome as Skye. All the omegas on campus had been drawn to Skye, but he… he was fixated on one crazy beta. Choices, choices.

Igor hadn’t reached his full height as an alpha yet. He was about six feet tall, skinny—a typical lanky teenager. His eyes were full of irritation, resentment, and distrust. He clenched his jaw and said nothing.

"Soooo. Here we are, finally, you and me." I grinned a little too broadly and walked toward him with a light gait.

"How’s it gonna be, Igor? Got any good plans on how to help your family heal after your loss?"

His mouth twitched. His gaze shifted to the side for a moment. I knew mentioning that was a good move.

"I did have a plan. But you're in my way," he hissed.

"In your way leading to… where exactly? To one of those nice alpha boot camps that make young boys so happy?"

That hit him. He frowned and unconsciously bared his teeth.

"So, how about we try to make peace? For your dad? For your brothers? They've suffered enough, wouldn’t you agree? The loss of your father—don’t make them lose you too. You all deserve a change for the better."

Igor stayed silent, staring at me like a caged tiger.

Suddenly, he shrugged and walked over to his suitcases. "Whatever, alpha," he muttered, grabbing both even though he could barely lift them. I picked up the laptop, and we headed into the house in silence.

We entered the living room. River was in the kitchen with the boys, who were already seated at the table. Their eyes lifted to see me carrying the laptop and Igor lugging the suitcases, his face grim.

We passed them, none of his brothers made any comments. River watched us with great tension but also said nothing.

We climbed the stairs to the last room in the row. I opened the door and went inside, placing the laptop on the desk. Then I turned to Igor.

I could see he was peeking around, unable to suppress his curiosity—obviously still a teenager. His eyes scanned the walls, the desk, the bed, the curtains. The balcony door was slightly open, and he slowly approached it to look out.

"The balcony overlooks the pool. In the morning, when the sun rises, you can also see the lake really well from here," I said quietly.

Igor stayed silent. I knew he really wanted to hate me, but it was probably hard for him to hate me as much as he had planned because he seemed to like the room. Slowly, he turned to face me.

Our eyes met. I knew he was thinking hard about what he should say next.

"Nice place, I’ll admit. But I never cared about having my own room. I cared about my father being alive. About keeping our family together."

"I completely understand. Those are the right priorities. No rooms, no houses, no pools in the world are as important as family."

"I don’t trust you. I know Sam a bit, but I don’t know you. I only remember what he told us about you over the years, and it wasn’t good."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What did Sam gossip about me?"

Igor pursed his lips and spoke in a challenging tone, "He said you are a fighter—or that you used to be. You fought in the ring, beat up other alphas. He mentioned you had lots of casual flings with different omegas. He also revealed you’re a hacker, and you work on the edge of the law. You have to admit, it doesn’t sound good."

I laughed, genuinely amused. "Yes, I trained in Muay Thai and competed a few times at the state level, but I quit in my third year of college. It’s just a hobby, though Sam always hated it, like many omegas. And I have hacking skills, but I work as a security tester. As for the casual flings—Sam really got that wrong. I’ve had a few normal relationships. You should form your own opinion if you want to be a true alpha, not just parrot what other people gossip about," I added in a slightly teasing tone, knowing this might resonate with him.

An omega’s perspective on such matters as martial arts or hacking could differ from an alpha’s. And he was still thinking in stereotypes, which was why I put it that way.

Igor stayed silent, his greenish eyes boring into me with intense focus.

"Your dad is very worried about whether we’ll get along, you and me. I don’t expect you to treat me like a father, but if there isn’t a basic level of respect between us, your siblings and your dad will suffer the side effects of the chaos."

"Say it straight. You want me to listen to you and not talk back—no complaints, keep my mouth shut, right?"

I laughed and bared my teeth. I took two steps closer to him and saw him tense up. Slowly, I shifted my gaze to his neck, at the side that was visible above the collar of his T-shirt.

His glands were still not fully active—pale and flat. It would take two to three more years for them to fully mature. I watched his neck, and my silence made him uncomfortable. Finally, not fond of my closeness, he backed away, instinctively raising his hand to cover his right gland.

"What? What are you staring at?"

"Do you know that a lot of betas exhibit early alpha traits? But their glands never fully mature. There's even a term for this condition—Alpha Misfire. Are you sure you’re not one of them?"

"Where are you going with this?!" His eyes showed near panic.

"Some things need to mature before they reach their full potential. Like good wine and cheese. So, they wait in the dark—not pushing forward, not pretending they’re ready. Are you only pretending, Igor?"

He was motionless for a moment.

"I wanted to save my family! Do you get that? Everyone looks at me like I'm crazy! I wanted to be a man for my dad, to make sure our family survived!"

"Don’t you think you may also need saving yourself? You’re not an adult alpha. Your glands aren’t ready yet. You need to be patient, Igor. I want you to trust that I’ll do everything to save your family, even if you couldn’t."

Igor exhaled bitterly. "We’ll see. I’ll be watching you."

"It’s only fair. I think your dad has already served your meal. Wouldn’t want it to get cold. Let’s go downstairs. They’re probably convinced we’ve killed each other up here."

My smile was slightly crooked.

He shrugged but walked past me and headed for the door. When we entered the kitchen, everyone seemed to sense a slight shift in Igor's energy. He sat at the table, his portion already waiting for him, while his brothers had almost finished already.

I noticed River's eyes darting between me and Igor, probably looking for clues about how our confrontation went, but Igor's face was neutral.

Our gazes met, and I gave River a reassuring smile.

As Igor ate, I saw River stand by the fridge and turn his back to us. For a moment, he pressed his hands to his eyes, and I couldn't tell if he was wiping away tears or just overwhelmed by nerves.

Meanwhile, the boys compared the features of their rooms, discussing colors and the views from their windows. Only Igor remained silent, focused on his meal. There was a strange sense of isolation around him; the others seemed to avoid speaking to him, as if he carried a contagious disease.

Had their attitude toward him changed after everything that happened, seeing him as wild and unpredictable? I blamed Thomas for filling Igor’s head with the idea that he had to take on the alpha role in the family. It was irresponsible to impose such a burden on an immature alpha.

From what I’d heard, Thomas lost his father (by the way, Igor’s namesake) when he was eighteen. His glands were fully mature, and he wasn’t required to have a guardian, but he still struggled, having to work and drop out of school to support his younger brother. Maybe that’s why he thought Igor could handle it too?

"Boys, it's time to start unpacking your things. It's already half past eight. Not much time before bed, and it would be a shame to sleep on your suitcases. You have your toothbrushes and pajamas, so head upstairs and get to work!" River urged them.

The kids didn’t need much encouragement; they were eager to set up their rooms, and Igor followed them silently.

River loaded the dishes into the dishwasher and then turned to face me.

Only then did we look at each other, and a moment of silence fell between us.

"You didn't cut your hair. Last time I saw you, you had plans to."

He blinked uncertainly and cleared his throat. "I—I changed my mind."

"Because of me?"

He didn’t answer, biting his lip. I could tell he had no idea how to respond, but I suspected it was true.

I glanced at the pot of stew next to River.

"Would you like some?" he asked quickly.

"No, I ate just before you arrived." I slowly shifted my gaze back to him. "You should have some. You look really run down."

"I don’t know if I can eat anything," River whispered.

I took a step toward him. "You always had such a pleasing figure—soft curves, round hips. You weren’t chubby, just healthy, juicy—"

"Do I look ugly to you now?" he asked nervously, pressing his hands to his hips as if to check how thin they were.

"That’s impossible. But I’d like you to eat. I want you to be healthy and vibrant, like before."

He slowly nodded and served himself a portion. "Maybe you could join me… for company?"

I snorted with amusement. "River, I already ate," I repeated. "I eat a set number of meals a day—that’s what best suits my metabolism."

His hands moved nervously as he sat down. "That’s the complete opposite of Thomas. I could never get him to cut down on calories. He’d give the boys candy bars and snacks. I tried to fight it, but he always said kids deserved a treat—and so did he."

"Developing bad eating habits isn’t the best ‘treat’. It adds up over time."

"I completely agree. In my home, we ate healthily. My dad had a vegetable garden, and we never gorged on candy or fast food. But that’s how it was at Thomas’s family house. He wasn’t ripped when we met—more like a teddy bear. But over the years, he really gained weight. Morbid obesity. A lot of belly fat, the worst for the heart."

"Hmmm. Is a teddy bear your type of alpha? Some omegas like dad bods. It makes them feel safe."

River blushed suddenly. "No… If I had to choose, I’d prefer sculpted abs, but he just didn’t have them. I came to terms with it."

River slowly raised his eyes from his plate, his gaze resting on my stomach. I could hear his heart racing loud and clear.

"Are you checking if I have abs? Should I show you?"

He nearly choked on his stew. "I… no way, I wouldn’t ask you to do that. It’s rude."

"But you want to see. Tell the truth."

There was a moment of silence. River played with his spoon, dipping it into his portion and pulling it out again.

"Yes," he whispered so quietly only an alpha’s ears could hear. To any beta, it would have been just the movement of his lips.

Amused by the situation, I slowly lifted my shirt. River’s eyes shot up, locked onto my abdomen—then immediately dropped back to his plate like startled prey.

"And? How’s the inspection? Do I meet your ideal alpha’s abs standards?" I asked with a hint of arrogance.

"Perfectly," he squeaked like a little chick.

His shyness was adorable. I’d always been proud of my abs, and my exes loved touching them, saying they felt like a washboard. The fact that River even brought it up was… encouraging. But I also knew exactly how far I could push before spooking him. So, I changed the subject.

"I called the high school about Igor, as well as the elementary and middle schools about the others. We can go there to enroll the kids tomorrow if that works for you. School starts in a week."

His head snapped up, and I saw gratitude in his eyes. "Really? You called? I’m so glad. Yes! I’d love to go if you have time for the paperwork."

"Of course. We also need to do some major grocery shopping. I stocked up a bit, but I’m sure you’d prefer to choose the ingredients yourself, so I think we could swing by the supermarket and do a big shop."

River stared at me for a moment. "Archer, I’m really grateful for everything you’re doing for me. It’s so much… almost too much. I’m overwhelmed."

I saw his hands trembling slightly, his eyes a bit wet. His body was still saturated with stress.

"No need. You’re worth all of this."

He swallowed hard. "Archer… all this is just trouble for you—expenses, dealing with such a big group of people, and Igor—"

I turned away and walked to the window, looking out at the darkening garden.

"Trouble… What does that even mean, River? I live alone in this house. My life revolves around morning jogs, work, gym sessions, Muay Thai training at the Darton club, and eating. I haven't been in a relationship for eight months. I want more than what I have. You are that ‘more’."

River didn't respond for a long while.

I slowly turned to look at him. "I wanted you to be mine since I was six. But then I realized it wasn't realistic. So I went to college and tried to forget—with a certain redheaded omega. Then another, and another, and another. Something didn’t feel right. It was never it."

River bit his lip so hard it must have hurt. "And how was it with them?" he whispered.

"What exactly are you asking?" I crossed my arms. "About sex?"

River’s fingers trembled so much that he dropped his spoon, spilling some stew on the table. He quickly grabbed a paper towel. "In general," he mumbled, his heart pounding loudly.

"Well, I was never in love with any of them. Maybe I'm just not the type who can fall in love easily. I analyze too much, plan too much, overthink. I choose things and pursue them. I chose you—when I was just a kid. Don’t call it a problem, River."

River stared at the table, not lifting his eyes. Suddenly, he whispered, "That was really cute. You were such an adorable six-year-old. It’s amazing how much you’ve changed. Now, you’re a man."

There was something in his tone, a subtle note, that made me look at him more closely. It was almost fleeting, but if I had to interpret it, I’d say he was overwhelmed by my change—intimidated and… excited.

How did I know all that? Once more, I realized I could read his emotions a bit. How odd.

"What about the other… part?" he mumbled, looking down.

Impossible—River asked about it, for real? I knew exactly what he wanted to know. Good, I was on board with the subject.

"Do you want to know in detail?"

"Just… in general, also."

"Well, after our kiss, I thought I would never meet you again, River, so I went on with my life. About a year later, I met a redheaded omega during a summer holiday, and I had my first time then."

Something flashed across his face, almost like… jealousy? Again, I had a pretty clear read on his inner state!

"Have you ever… spent heat with an omega?"

"A couple of times, actually. I’ve had probably close to ten relationships during college. Omegas were interested in me, in my looks, but for me, there was always something missing."

"Were they all… redheads?"

"They were, indeed. Some dyed it, though."

"You really like… this hair color, don’t you?" River took with the end of his braid, his face slightly pensive.

"Yes."

He didn’t raise his head, his gaze still fixed on the end of his thick braid.

And then, suddenly, he said, "You know, I still have that flower you gave me back then. I pressed it in a book."

I raised my eyebrows. "Really? You kept that marigold?"

River nodded, then suddenly turned and ran toward the stairs. He was gone for a moment before coming back down, carrying a book titled Our Alien Origin.

He placed it on the table and opened it. Inside was an orange-red, dried marigold—just like the one I had given him many years ago. I stared at it for a moment, then slowly reached out and carefully picked it up.

"It really looks like the marigold I stole from the neighbor’s garden. It was the Safari Red variety. It reminded me of your hair."

"It’s the same one."

It was a strange moment. I slowly put the marigold back and looked at River. His heart sped up again.

"I remember how much I liked you, River. It was like a spell. Your hair was so long and bright red, you seemed magical in my eyes. You enchanted me."

There was no sound in the room. River slowly raised his hand and ran his fingers along his braid—it was almost sensual. But then, as if startled by his own boldness, he quickly closed the book, hiding the marigold inside.

"What do you expect from me when it comes to household chores?" he unexpectedly asked.

The change of subject was so sudden that it took me a while to respond.

"Um. Oliver comes every day to cook and clean. He’ll still do that."

"I’ve always cooked and cleaned."

"Even when you were pregnant? With little kids?"

"Yes. We didn’t have money for a helper."

"Did you also work for Thomas at the same time?"

River licked his lips. "I did."

"While pregnant?"

"Yes."

"While having a newborn?"

"Yeah. I had a headset on me all the time and was taking calls from customers. I never had a day off."

"Never?"

River shook his head and I let out a snort.

"Let me get this straight. You took care of the house, the children, cooking, cleaning, and… worked for him all day, no vacations. But he was still the leader? He decided what the kids ate, whether you had a relationship with your family, and who your friends were?"

River didn’t answer as I fixed my eyes on him. His braid flowed down his shoulder, his long auburn lashes casting shadows on his pale cheeks. He was so small and fragile.

"So. He sat on his ass, ate himself to death, and left you in a mess. Is that accurate?"

River closed his eyes and lowered his head.

I hated the type of alpha Thomas was—expecting so much, giving so little. I wanted to be a leader too, but not like that. I was determined to be a provider and protector, not some loser leeching off his omega. Thomas had taken advantage of River’s submission. He didn’t deserve the gift of having his partner fully surrender to him.

But I was set on proving… I did. River deserved the best after being treated so horribly.

So I let out a loud huff. "I think you should take a break from all that. Have some time for yourself. Oliver will get a raise and can handle most of the household stuff."

"I like cooking."

"You can share the tasks if that’s what you want. But Oliver can peel potatoes or prep the meat for you."

River finished eating, stood up, and put his plate in the dishwasher.

"This is… more than I expected. It’s really a monumental change, Archer. I’m lost. We barely know each other."

"Do we really? But okay, I understand. Try to overcome this… ‘overwhelm’. That's how it is in my house. Oliver will be here to take the burden off you."

River looked at me. "I'll go unpack," he said quietly.

"Be my guest."

"Thank you… for everything." He quickly left the kitchen.