CHAPTER TWELVE

To Mir’s amazement, Telish broke into a chuckle. “Good God, boy, you are a hard one to provoke; I thought she was more likely to take a swing at me than you were at one point.”

Telish turned to Mir. “And to you, my dear, I owe a profound apology for my rudeness, but an alpha who won’t defend his omega shouldn’t be an alpha at all. I was just testing my son. There was a rumor going around that some betas are using artificial scents and growth hormones to mimic manifestation. With Taven having access to medical procedures and this unexpected manifestation, I wasn’t quite sure. But no beta on earth would take a swing at me, even one with balls, especially if they grew up here.”

He bowed slightly and gave them a smile that turned him from an intimidating alpha into an incredibly attractive, intimidating alpha. Mir stepped closer to Tavish. The mighty Telish Grabar could take his good looks, buckets of cash, and auspicious family line and shove them where the sun didn’t shine. Besides, there was something else about him that niggled at the back of Mir’s mind. From his strong, hormone-laden scent, Mir was sure they’d never met him, in Hell or anywhere else, but there was something disturbingly familiar about this alpha, something Mir couldn’t put their finger on.

“Well, am I forgiven?” Telish said, giving them a puppy dog eyes expression.

After dragging their gaze up and down him slowly as if considering his question, Mir drew themself up to their full height, which was over a foot less than Telish. “Not in a million years, Mr. Grabar, sir. If you work real hard at not annoying me for the rest of my stay, I promise to think about it quite seriously. In the meantime, I think I’m going to teach Tavish how to punch because that was pretty pathetic, even if he did make you step back. He might have spent his childhood in a book, I didn’t.”

Shock registered briefly on Telish’s face before he started chuckling again; a rich, enticing sound that Mir immediately wanted to hear again. “You do that, Mirelle, sorry, Mir, you do that. And when this bookworm son of mine releases you from your contract, tell your guardian I’m interested. I’ve got a nice little cabin on the other side of the valley that’ll suit you down to the ground. I’ve never sired triplets.”

“Never going to happen,” Tavish rumbled. “Mir’s staying with me.”

“That’s up to her guardian, son, and as you didn’t argue with me about it, I know it isn’t you. Still, I wish you both well. An unusual omega for an unusual alpha. I was always proud of you, Tav, but you’ve outdone yourself this time. I can’t wait to tell the parish priest and Natelle. She’ll be spitting feathers; not one of hers has grown balls. You two go get some rest and make yourself at home in the blue guest suite. Dinner is at eight.”

With that firm dismissal, one of the most influential men in Malthusia strode away with the vigor of an alpha half his age.

Tavish and Mir met each other’s eyes for a moment before he extended his elbow. “Shall we, my dear?”

Grinning back at him, Mir replied in a false upper-class accent, “Of course, my dear alpha, we wouldn’t want to offend anyone with our tardiness, would we?”

The stairs were the widest Mir had ever seen in a private house, they had to be five feet wide, with banisters on either side. Despite their size, they were still somewhat homely and practical, with the wood worn and polished by generations of Grabars. How many of Tav’s relatives’ hands had rubbed down these banisters to smooth them this much? Mir pictured a flood of youngsters galloping down the stairs, yelling and whooping, including one more serious, dark-haired little pup with a book in their hand. The occasional nick or dark stain on the treads and spindles spoke of incidents that could have happened when Tav lived here, or a hundred years before.

History oozed from the very walls. Mir had only just learned the family name of their Ma, beyond that they knew nothing about where they’d come from. Whereas Tav could point to portraits of his relatives probably going back to the first Malthusians to step out of the laboratory breeding facility and into the wilds of Malthusia. Insignificance pressed down on Mir’s shoulders until they consciously straightened them. Even though Mir didn’t have records, their ancestors had stepped out in exactly the same way as Tav’s.

Mir glanced back down at the many portraits covering the walls of the entrance hall. Tav’s ancestors had been successful, but somewhere along the way, one or more of Mir’s ancestors had fucked up and landed their descendants in a single-story former drovers’ bunkhouse. Whatever the case, Tav fit in here, Mir didn’t.

At the top of the stairs, Tavish turned to the left and then halted with a sigh. “Damn, I was going to the pup dorm. Old habits are hard to break.”

“Do you want to go peek?”

Tavish hesitated, then shook his head. “It’ll be different, even though I bet the furniture is exactly the same. I kinda want to remember it being like it was when it was just me and my siblings. Our room is this way.” He indicated the corridor to the right.

“You have good memories of your childhood?” Mir enquired, as Tavish seemed lost in thought.

“Hmm? Yes, there were good times, mostly when Ma was alive. Things changed a lot after she died.”

Mir rubbed his arm. “Yeah, losing your Ma can do that.”

A groan rumbled out of his chest. “Balls have turned me into the most insensitive bastard. You lost your ma too.” He indicated a door at the end of the corridor. “That’s us, although I’ve never been in there. Guests only, on pain of a walloping from Daven. I guess I’m all grown up now.” He sounded a little wistful.

He opened the door as the gentleman his ma had clearly taught him to be, and Mir walked inside, but they didn’t get the opportunity to gawk at the opulent, very blue, room, although their bags lay on the bed, including Tavish’s black doctor bag.

“Now we’re alone, and as the grown-up I certainly am, I can apologize properly.”

Mir turned to him, confused. “For what?”

He huffed out a laugh and shook his head. “Mir, you are quite the miracle, but I’ve been rehearsing this ever since I found out about your siblings.” Tavish took their hands in his and met their gaze with earnest dark eyes. “I was wrong, so damn wrong, for keeping what I knew about them from you.”

Mir’s eyebrows rose. A profound apology from an alpha was the last thing they’d expected, but Tav had never been a typical alpha, and if he wanted to apologize, maybe they could get more. “If you think that will cut it, think again. Tell me why you kept it from me.”

Tavish wrinkled his nose. “Because I’m a possessive alpha asshole, and I wanted to keep you to myself?”

Mir reached for the door.

“Where are you going?” The note of bewildered panic in Tavish’s voice was just about perfect.

Mir rounded on him. “To find someone I don’t know to insult my intelligence because it’ll hurt a hell of a lot less than what you just did. I may not have all your fancy qualifications, hell, I can barely read, but we both know hormones are only responsible for so much. Now, do you have a proper explanation for me?”

“I erm...” He glanced at the floor, then back up at Mir. Their heart warmed. He really was such a beta at heart.“They investigate abused omegas for a living. Their lives are about prosecuting offenders through the courts. I was worried that if they found you, they’d push you for details you might not be comfortable giving. Plus—” Whatever he was thinking had put a dent between his eyes. “—as your guardian, Corish could demand the babies be DNA tested to determine their sire. You wouldn’t have a choice about whether to keep that information to yourself, and if your brother contacted said alpha, and the court case didn’t go well, that fucker could—”

Even though it squashed their belly, Mir wrapped their arms around him. His arms went around Mir and held them close. A kiss landed on Mir’s hair.

“Am I forgiven?”

A smile tipped up the corner of Mir’s mouth. “I have a great way to show you that. Sit on the bed.”

Tavish’s eyes widened. “But it’s nearly eight already. If we’re late for dinner…”

Mir reached for Tavish’s black canvas kilt. “What are they going to do? Send us to bed early? Besides, I can’t smell me on you anymore.”

A knock came on the bedroom door, and Mir dropped the hem of Tavish’s kilt. They really were so damn convenient.

Tavish answered it, but he didn’t speak to whoever handed over a brown paper parcel.

He read the label. “To Mir, knock their socks off. Clayen.” He proffered the parcel.

They took it with a scowl. “If this is a dress, I’m going to kill him.”

Mir didn’t recognize themselves. The outfit consisted of fine wool black leggings with little silver flecks in the fabric, shiny black ankle boots, and a dark blue pregnancy shirt with little silver stars embroidered on the cuffs and collar.

“Is this what sophisticated, wealthy pregnant omegas are wearing these days?”

The outfit was a far cry from the voluminous brown dress Mir’s Ma had worn before and after the twins were born.

“Well, it’s what Clay thinks you’d find acceptable without making you stand out like a sore thumb.” Tav came over and fingered the material and examined the extended belly area. “They look really comfortable, although for everyday wear you’d need some with less sparkles. I’ll ask Clay when I see him. Although, maybe leave the knife up here? A stabbing could be a bit of a downer. I don’t want to work while we’re on vacation.”

Tavish’s warm tone lessened the sting in his words. He stepped up behind Mir as they examined their reflections in the long, ornate, gold-framed mirror in the bedroom. Everything in the room was blue, although the shade varied from pale, almost white, on the walls to a deep hue on the bedding and curtains. It was only a little bigger than their bedroom back home, even if the furnishings were fancier.

The fact that they’d automatically thought of the farm not only as Tavish’s home but theirs too gave Mir a warm feeling inside, as did Tavish’s embrace as he rested his cheek on their hair. Unfashionably short hair for an omega. Even Clay’s auburn locks were longer than Mir’s far less spectacularly colored, brown, chin-length hair.

“I think you look wonderful, and I’m delighted to say that you won’t fit in at all amongst all the lace, sequins, ruffles, and jewelry you’ll see down there. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Most of the alphas father knows use their omegas as walking advertising boards for their own status and wealth.

“The poor brainwashed things swan about, trying to outdo each other just as much as their alphas. It’s depressing to watch them desperately posturing as they’re all paranoid their alpha will exchange them for a younger, more glamorous model if they’re not up to scratch or don’t produce the children they want.” He absently brushed a lock of Mir’s hair behind their ear, but his eyes seemed to see something far away. “The insincerity was one of the things I was hiding from up there in the middle of nowhere, but you don’t have a dishonest bone in your body.”

Turning in his embrace, Mir put their arms around him, as much as they could, with their belly in the way. Going up on their toes, Mir pressed their nose against his neck, taking in his reassuring scent, a scent that was both different and similar to his father’s. They’d been wrong. This place smelled tantalizing close to familiar, but that edge of difference meant that Mir’s nerves would be on high alert until they were home.

“The knife is in the back of the waistband.” Tavish’s hand slid around to their back and pulled out the sheath they’d made from an old piece of horse harness. The patch of skin felt cold after the warmth of the leather disappeared.

“Nice work.”

Mir snuggled in a little more. Tavish’s praise warmed them down to their toes. “Why thank you. I’m thinking of starting a line of Freedom Farm omega weapon holsters, along with the eggs.”

Tavish’s chuckle radiated through Mir, and everything seemed right in the world. He was so damn fine in his clan kilt with the wide blood stripe and matching vest over a snowy white shirt. The blue bedlinen reflected in his highly polished boots, and if they stood at the right angle, Mir bet they could peek up his kilt. Such a low-class, unrefined thing to think. Mir bet none of the fine omegas they’d be meeting tonight at dinner would think such animalistic things. Would any of the wealthy, upper-class alphas downstairs get a thrill from imagining their omegas wanting to see their cocks, or did they keep those base thoughts for omegas in places like Hell or betas?

“I can’t promise I won’t embarrass you tonight.” Mir huffed out a little laugh. “Hell, if I don’t, it’ll be a fucking miracle. I’ve never been to a posh dinner party or even been to a proper restaurant. A burger joint, once, is as far as it goes.”

Tavish stiffened.

“What is it?” Mir placed their hand over his heart and met his dark eyes. “Don’t lie to me again. You kept that information about my siblings from me, and I can understand your motivation, but you shouldn’t have done it. I’m an adult, and if you really believe in what you say about omegas being as intelligent as beta and alphas, you’ll trust me to make decisions about things that involve me.”

The side of his mouth quirked up. “You sound like a lawyer.”

Mir met his smile with one of their own. “Not surprising since I taught one how to color inside the lines. Now, stop trying to distract me, which I have to admit is pretty easy. What was it about my confession to eating in a burger joint that made you go all stiff and not in a fun way.”

To Mir’s delight, their shy alpha’s face reddened a little, then he blew out a breath, and the serious ‘doctor’ persona reasserted itself. “You know that article I mentioned about your brothers?”

“Go on.”

“It mentioned that your trail went cold after they found a murdered bar owner. Was that where you had your burger?”

The warm, cozy atmosphere evaporated. Nervous energy buzzed through Mir. How much did Tavish actually know?

Mir walked stiffly over to the window and looked out at the idyllic scene at the back of the house below. A formal lawn, lined with beautiful flowerbeds, stretching for over a hundred feet. Pup play equipment, a climbing frame and an A-frame with several swings hanging from it, including baby seats sat, unused, at the rear, plus a little house where Grabar youngsters could play their hoped-for future roles. It was so different from Mir’s childhood. Playing hadn’t featured much after the twins arrived. Their hand ran over their belly. It didn’t have to be alien to the triplets, though.

Mir could build something better than the equipment the Grabars had probably paid through the nose to erect, that is, if the genetic sire, or sires, of the children didn’t find them. Hopefully, Mir would never have to find out as the triplets already had a Pa, one who loved them unconditionally.

Tavish’s body heat warmed Mir’s back. “It said they suspected he was part of an organized trafficking ring, but that’s all.” Mir didn’t reply, there wasn’t anything to say without revealing things that would change Tav’s mind about them.

“I’m here for you if you ever want to talk about it, or I can find someone else for you to talk to if you find discussing such things with me difficult. Don’t worry, it won’t be anyone here. I still have a lot of contacts at the hospital. Either way is fine by me, but I know that discussing trauma with someone sympathetic and unjudgmental is helpful. It helped me after my Ma passed.”

Mir automatically found themselves turning in Tav’s arms and scenting him. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

“So am I. But the article said you lost your Ma even younger than I lost mine. At least I had older siblings, an untie, and a whole bunch of betas to fill the gap.”

“My Ma’s not dead, or at least she isn’t as far as I know. She got repossessed by her family. I didn’t even know her family name until I saw that certificate this afternoon.”

“Oh, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. Would you like to know if she’s still alive? If you have any half-siblings?”

The spark in Tavish’s voice made Mir wish it was possible. They bet Tavish would throw himself into research with intense dedication. The great daft empathic idiot would probably try to adopt them just to keep them safe.

“I’ll save you the trouble. There won’t be any half-siblings. My parents bonded. He was her prover, and they ran away as they didn’t want to abort me.”

Silence reigned. Mir was desperate to know what Tav thought of Mir being the result of an illegal act.

“Mir, your father is an utter turd for what he did to you, but for choosing to bond your mother and saving you from being medical waste? I’d like to shake his hand. Then I’m going to punch his fucking lights out.”

Mir snorted at how ridiculous swear words sounded coming from Tavish’s lips, then they started to laugh. “At least let me teach you how to punch first. My pa was a proving house pup, called himself a ‘bastard calf’. He grew up fighting for everything he had, and he doesn’t fight fair.”

“Noted. I’ll pencil fight lessons into our itinerary between looking after the farm and the triplets. I should be ready in about…. A decade?”

Mir laughed even louder as Tavish’s eyes twinkled with mirth. “How, how about you distract him with long sciencey words, and I’ll knock his block off?”

Tavish took a step back and offered Mir his hand. “Shake on it?”

With both trying to keep their faces straight, they formally shook on the deal.

“So,” Tavish, rubbed his neck, not meeting Mir’s eyes, “Would you like me to ask Clay to cozy up to his contact in the registrar department and see what happened to your ma?”

“I was only six when they took her, and I gave up thinking I’d ever see her again about a year later. Besides, her family wasn’t exactly pleased that I existed, and I bit her alpha brother, like really bad.”

Tavish’s eyes lit up as if Mir was revealing an exciting juicy secret. “And I bet he hadn’t just manifested, right?”

Mir shrugged. “Well, he looked big to me, but most people do when you’re six.” Tavish winced, and Mir braced themselves for more unwanted sympathy.

“I beat up a post-beta when I was ten. Bloodied his nose too.”

If Tavish had claimed he’d sprouted wings, Mir couldn’t have been more surprised. “Why?”

“They was whistling ‘Morning had broken’. It was the morning after my Ma passed and Perelle was born.” Mir didn’t have a clue what to say to that. Dying in childbirth had never occurred to them.

“Aaaand I just killed the mood. My apologies. Anything I can do to redeem myself?”

“Any tips on how to survive this dinner party?”

“Don’t tuck your napkin into your shirt; it goes on your lap.” He held up two fingers. “Two, the cutlery works from the outside in. If in doubt, watch me. Three. Food is served from the left, and plates are cleared from the right. Let the servers do their jobs. Plus, if anyone is rude to you, feel free to be rude back. You are under my and my father’s protection. He likes you.”

“Could have fooled me,” Mir grumbled and let go of him. It all sounded super complicated. Mir had eaten with their fingers, sitting on a mattress in a cell for years, and if they could snatch food from another omega, they did.

“He spoke directly to you, and that means he likes you a lot. Watch him tonight; you’ll see that he very seldom speaks directly to omegas if he can help it.”

Mir smoothed their hands over their outfit one last time and blew out a breath.

“Let’s do this, but please let me know if I’m about to put my foot in it.”

Tavish opened the door to their temporary sanctuary as Mir told themself that as they’d survived Hell, they could survive dinner with a bunch of stuck-up aristocrats, even though they’d rather be in the stables or wherever those magnificent horses were kept.