CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Tavish kept his hand on the small of Mir’s back as he guided them into the formal dining room. Their heart galloped in their chest, demanding they run before someone noticed that one of the guests was nothing like the others. For a moment, Mir thought they had a sapien record player, then the alpha blocking their view sat down.

There was a goddamned pianist in the far corner playing music that didn’t seem to have much of a tune, it just seemed to be light and… there.

The main table could seat at least thirty people, but only about half the seats had been filled as the guests milled around, chatting and boasting. The fancy clothes of the guests, even the staff, the crystal glasses, gold-edged, snowy-white plates, and the huge array of cutlery around each place setting looked utterly alien, like something from across the veil. Mir could handle bolshie bulls and violent, musth-crazed alphas, but the overwhelming mixture of unfamiliar alpha and omega scents in the air had their ass clenching and their nerves jangling.

Every single one of the other six omegas wore above-the-knee-length satin dresses in subtle pastel shades. Their universally long hair was piled on top of their heads in complicated styles with artfully arranged trailing tendrils, and their necks, throats, ears, and wrists dripped with jewelry. Tavish hadn’t been kidding; they looked like walking chandeliers; no, they looked like sapien women. Mir thought malthusians were meant to be better, or at least different. With the number of children laughing at the end tables, this was what they imagined a sapien gathering to be like. Only the scattering of betas proved otherwise.

But as much as Mir examined the other guests, they were assessing Mir in return. The omegas looked at Mir in their leggings, shirt, and beta-ish short hair as if they was a fresh, runny turd, but the alphas, betas, and children seemed curious rather than damning.

“Can I show you to your seats, sir, madam?”

Mir hadn’t even noticed the short, stocky, brown-haired beta waiting by the door to the dining hall where Tavish had stopped to let Mir peer into the lion’s den.

“Leave off, Fossen,” Tavish replied. “I might have grown balls since the last time we met, but I didn’t feel comfortable with being treated differently back then, and I still don’t.”

“Of course not, sir. But I live here, and you don’t.” They leaned in a little closer, proving that they was indeed a few inches shorter than Mir. “And walls have ears. Plus, Natelle hasn’t gone into heat in two years, and our almighty leader is hunting for outlets more with every passing day.”

Tavish’s jaw clenched. “That isn’t acceptable any more now than it was when I lived here.”

Fossen smiled. “Oh, I don’t know. The attention I got from the other betas after the last time more than made up for it, and we’ve all taken to lubing up.” Mir winced on the smiling beta’s behalf. Even if you used lube, getting your ass fucked by an alpha was no joke.

Tavish didn’t know where to look. It was adorable. “I erm... I have no idea what to say to that.”

The beta shrugged. “Still so shy even though you’re proven, but it is what it is. Plus, it’s my duty to obey my alpha as an affiliated beta. This way.” He indicated the top table. “You have no idea how much angst you caused over the seating plans. You had been put down the end with Clayen, but they had to do a lot of shuffling around. Repen and Cosen got bumped down to one of the lesser tables, and everyone else got shuffled down. You’re opposite Perelle.”

One large table, with around thirty chairs, dominated the room, with two smaller tables toward the end of the room that were fully occupied by betas and pups. The beta showed them to a pair of seats near the bottom end of the largest table. Telish already sat in the center, chatting with the gray-haired alpha sitting opposite him. Mir guessed he must be the bride’s father and that the spaces next to each were for their omegas.

It wasn’t tricky to determine which family any individual was from, as all the Grabars wore at least one item of Grabar blue tartan, and the other family all wore a deep orange.

Fossen poured Tavish a glass of deep-red wine and a glass of ice water for Mir without either of them saying a thing. “Enjoy,” Fossen murmured. “And if you have the time, we’d love to see you over in the junior bunkhouse and relive old times.”

“I’d like that too.”

When Fossen left to escort other guests to their seats, Tavish took a sip of his wine, but Mir didn’t touch the beautiful, slim-stemmed crystal goblet in case they broke it. He seemed quite at home in this environment, but Mir was a fish out of water. A quick glance sideways showed that the other omegas had delicate hands with long, painted fingernails. They looked almost as lethal as spiked gloves in Hell. The flash of memory, of slashing sliver, red on pale skin, and snarling bared teeth took Mir by surprise. Averting their eyes from the omega’s hands, Mir focused on the hands of the young, dark blond alpha beside them.

Clearly nearly manifested, with a wispy beard, he boasted only a few inches of height on Mir. His green/yellow kilt that was unique in the room as far as Mir could see, and from his sweaty scent, his nerves rode him big time. There had been plenty of alphas like him in Hell in the latter years, but no one would have let someone this weak play with Mir in the early days as they would have eaten him for breakfast.

He’d clearly never done a manual job with those uncalloused, soft, manicured hands. Hoping no one was assessing their hands in return, Mir slid them into their lap. Broad, calloused, and work-roughed, their hands stood out like beacons among the alphas, let alone the omegas. Just last week, they’d been proud that their hands were returning to the state they remembered from their childhood thanks to working a farm again.

Mir didn’t belong here, and they never would, but for Tavish’s sake, they was determined to put up with it. Other people slowly took their seats. Mir tried not to stare, even though they could feel eyes boring into them from every angle.

A blonde, petite omega wearing only a little make-up, opposite them gave Tavish a shy smile. Mir’s hackles went up. Tavish was theirs, and if anyone—

“I’m so glad to see you.” Tavish sounded genuinely pleased to see this meek omega. “I got worried when your letters stopped.” This was a childhood penpal? Was this another thing Tavish had failed to mention because it might ‘upset’ Mir? What did he think Mir was, a volatile, over-emotional, irrational omega?

The omega gave Tavish a shy demure smile. Under the table, Mir’s hands formed fists. She seemed a lot more comfortable in this situation, far more like an omega a Grabar alpha should be with than Mir, but if she had designs on Mir’s alpha, she’d find herself in a fight. She’d probably been seated this close to tempt Tavish, to engage him in polite, high-society conversation. And they think I’m a slut?

“It seems quite a lot has been lost in communication,” she said. “I must admit, it’s far stranger having three alpha brothers and a beta sibling. I was quite used to the two and two dynamics. It felt balanced.”

Tavish’s smile grew. “You could balance every one of us on your own. Perelle, I’d like to introduce Mir. Mir, this is my full sister, Perelle.”

Idiot. Mir forced a smile.“Well, that’s good. I was getting ready to growl.”

Perelle’s brow creased with worry, but Tavish grinned. “What do you mean, getting ready? I could feel it vibrating through the floor.”

Perelle’s face lit up with a smile, and in that moment, Mir could see the resemblance to the omega in Clay’s painting.

Mir gave her a genuine smile. “You look like your mother when you smile.”

Perelle’s hand rose to her throat where a gold pendant in the shape of a rose hung on a delicate chain.

“I do?”

“Yep, if the painting above Tavish’s fireplace is accurate.”

“And I am never going to live down buying that painting since Clay saw it,” Tavish grumbled.

Perelle giggled, a light, joyful sound. Maybe I can do this after all. The thought lasted until Perelle’s expression fell, and she suddenly found the positioning of her cutlery utterly fascinating.

“No greeting for your mother, Tav? It seems you’ve forgotten your manners as well as your duty to your family.” A mature blonde omega in a powder blue dress that matched her eyes stood at Tavish’s shoulder. The smile on her shiny red lips didn’t reach her eyes.

“Natelle,” Tavish acknowledged, voice cool. “But in case you don’t remember, I’m not your son, and I haven’t been Tav for many years. My name is Dr. Grabar, although as we are legally related, I suppose you can now address me as Tavish. It fits quite well with my two alpha brothers, don’t you think?

“How are my half-siblings? I hear that not one of them has alphaed. Out of how many? A dozen, or is it more by now? I really should write a paper on it; it could be a record.” He looked her up and down as her face reddened and then paled. “Yes, quite a few more by the appearance of your pronounced rectus diastasis and fascial laxity. I can recommend an excellent medical corset maker if you like?”

Mir could have cheered the incredibly snotty put-down Tavish delivered to the stuck-up omega with the precision of a surgical incision. She clearly had no idea what the medical words meant, neither did Mir, but that didn’t matter.

All that makeup didn’t conceal the way her jaw tensed or the way so many births had thickened her waist despite her clear attempt to appear youthful. It sucked that Mir knew they’d had far more pregnancies than this bitch, but none had lived. Without thought, Mir wrapped their arm protectively across their belly. One of the babies kicked their agreement, or maybe their sympathy.

Yes, little one, this time it will be different. This is finally your time.

Natelle’s turned-up nose angled toward the ceiling as she lifted her chin. It didn’t make her appear any taller, but it did reveal her sagging jawline. Despite not nursing any babies right now, Natelle had visible cleavage that she appeared to be proud of as the creamy white mounds of her breasts were almost overflowing the scooped neckline of her gown. Mir couldn’t wait to get rid of the pregnancy bra and girdle they’d been forced to wear so they could continue to move around easily. Mir especially disliked that their mammary tissue had temporarily expanded.

Hopefully, their body would go back to the way it’d been before this pregnancy, with a firm, flat chest and tight abs. A body capable of working the land to provide for their family rather than simply expanding the population, which seemed to be the sole focus of every reproductively capable person here, except Mir and hopefully Tavish. Yes, Mir wanted these babies more than anything, but having a dozen or more pups sounded more like a nightmare than a blessing. Whatever her wishes, it seemed as if Natelle’s days of popping out babies were coming to an end.

Telish was still a vigorous alpha, and Natelle had to be wondering that after twenty years, her days as Prime Omega of the Grabar clan were limited. From Tav’s expression, it couldn’t happen to a nicer person. Being here probably hadn’t been Natelle’s choice any more than being in Hell had been Mir’s. A sliver of sympathy reached Mir’s heart. Tavish’s reason for disliking this omega was that she replaced his ma. That had to color his opinion.

“At least my offspring work for the good of their family.” If Natalle’s voice had been a knife, Tavish would have been bleeding out on the polished wooden floor. “They contribute. They don’t leach, leave, and disrespect their father by refusing to affiliate to him.” She turned her attention to Mir, her upper lip raised in a sneer. “So this is the mystery omega that has two of my stepsons and my husband under her spell. What’s her name?”

What little sympathy Mir had possessed, died. She was as much of a bitch as Tavish claimed. Mir shouldn’t have doubted his opinion.

“Strangely enough, I can answer for myself. My name is Mir.”

Natelle’s sneer deepened, but she continued to address Tavish, not Mir, and that really pissed them off.

“I’m afraid I don’t find rudeness from a jumped-up, low-born, hard-luck case, who can’t even work out the proper form of their own name as entertaining as you clearly do, Dr. Grabar. A qualification you only possess because the Grabar estate paid for it. Where did you find this one? Dumped at a clinic because she’d gotten herself beaten half to death by roaming while in heat?”

“I am so going to rip your fuck—”

Tavish’s hand landed on Mir’s leg, and Mir buttoned their mouth. This wasn’t fair, not by a long shot. But this was Tavish’s world, not Mir’s.

Without looking at Mir, Tavish turned a polite, enquiring expression to his stepma. “Firstly, I doubt you are privy to the Grabar finances, but I paid back every penny of my tuition and accommodation fees within three years of graduating. Secondly, does my father still have those entertaining little cinefilms of omega fights?” Mir had no idea where Tavish was going with this, but they didn’t dare interrupt as the alpha was definitely on a roll.

“Well, if you look very closely, you might recognize Mir. They are the champion of the entire northern region and haven’t been beaten in five years. Getting decent betting odds became the bane of my life, so we decided to start a family while waiting for the odds to decrease.” He lowered his voice. “That’s how we met. I was called to treat their defeated opponent. Sad to say, I couldn’t save her.”

An expression of absolute horror crossed Natelle’s face before she hastily scuttled off toward the head of the table, high heels clacking like a drum roll on the polished wooden floor.

“Wow, just wow. I didn’t know you had that in you.” Mir stated in awe, staring at Tav in a new light. Across the table, Perelle’s shoulders trembled as she tried to contain her laughter with her head bowed.

Tavish winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it. She just rubs me up the wrong way, but now I’m an alpha and not likely to come back here…” He shrugged.

Mir couldn’t help grinning. “You thought you’d get some licks in first? And here I was thinking you were always ‘cool, calm, and collected’ when faced with difficult omegas. Seems your family brings out the best in you.”

“Or the worst, according to most people’s point of view. I can’t remember the last person I was intentionally cruel to. Apart from the post-beta, my sole act of violence was hitting an alpha in my ward after I manifested, and I nearly broke my hand. That’s what got me fired, or ‘sent on sabbatical’ according to hospital records. Before getting balls, dodging and hiding, or staring down my nose while wearing a white coat was more my style.”

As the table was filling up, Mir dragged their chair closer to Tav with a loud screech. “You really should let me show you how to fight or at least punch. How did you know I was the regional champion anyway? My fights were never filmed as far as I know, but I was kinda busy at the time.”

Tav’s lips parted as his eyes widened. Mir managed to keep a straight face for all of thirty seconds before losing the battle and clapping a hand over their mouth to muffle their very unomega-like laugh.

Tavish slumped and shook his head. “Hook, line, and sinker; you got me again. Still, this is turning out better than it could have done. Pa likes you, Natelle is on the back foot, and we’re about to be treated to Sayen’s cooking. They’s amazing.”

Telish stood at the top of the table and tapped a crystal wine glass with a knife.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and honored betas, may I present the happy couple to be, Langish Grabar and Dayelle Finchly.”

The world crashed around them, color and sound leaching to nothing. The smiling blond alpha who had kidnapped them and let them escape walked into the almost barn-sized dining room to the sound of polite applause. The slim, almost waif-like blonde omega at his side beamed up at him as if he was the sun in the sky.

Blood turned to ice in their veins, and heads turned their way as the scent of fear clogged the air. Their brain restarted like a standing horse getting whipped.

They were all connected, all complicit. Why else would an alpha doctor be out in the middle of nowhere, alone, if not to protect a prime asset for his family? The paperwork ruse could have been crap just to get me down here without a fuss, without stressing me so it doesn’t affect the babies.They want them, fuck, they want my babies to experiment on again.

Their belly knotted and their lungs refused to draw in a breath. I left the kitchen knife in the bedroom. Stupid, trusting idiot. How long did it take me to forget that I can’t trust anyone? The fancy silverware on the table might be able to poke around well-cooked food, but the knife wasn’t any sharper than the spoon. The crystal glasses would probably make better weapons, but there were so many people, at least twenty percent of them alphas, between Mir and the only exit. And dodging and fighting with this huge belly would be pretty pointless. The room was closing in on them, the sounds louder and less friendly.

“You alright?” Tavish distracted Mir from their panic with a hand on their thigh. They jumped but didn’t stop their assessment. Tavish, even if he wanted to hold on to Mir, wouldn’t be too difficult to overcome. But the only exit was behind the alpha who had repeatedly raped them in the name of training, the sire of at least their first set of triplets.

“Mir? You’re worrying me. Your heart is racing, and I can smell your fear.” Tavish’s fingers found the pulse point in their wrist, but Mir couldn’t take their eyes off the blond alpha from Hell.

The alpha’s beard was both longer and narrower than Mir remembered, but many months had passed, and fashions changed. They braced as the alpha’s eyes swept the room and settled on Mir, but only for a second. Apart from a slight rise of his eyebrows, there had been no reaction at all. Mir knew they looked different now, but not that much.

Is he that much of an actor? He certainly had me fooled in Hell. At one point, I thought he cared, even after he took me. He never intentionally hurt me, never asked for me to go in the chase or frame room after that first time. Although he did request me and knew about the heat and tracking implants. He used me, just like all the others, but he also let me go. Why?

Mir’s whirling brain supplied the only logical answer. This is a high-risk pregnancy, and they want me to deliver in the hospital. Who better to get someone like me into the hospital without any questions being asked than the former head of omega medicine?

“Tav, is Mir ok?” The voice of Tavish’s omega’s sibling reached Mir’s panicking mind, but they immediately dismissed Perelle. She couldn’t stand up to her stepma, let alone the many alphas in the room.

If shit kicks off, I’m on my own. Tavish must be part of it. It must have been a setup. They were worried about the pregnancy and wanted me somewhere less stressful.

But if Tavish is part of this, why would he parade me around like this if they just wanted me down here for the birth? All their family and friends are here… They’d hide me, surely, they’d hide me?

“I’m not sure, but I’ll find out. Come on, Mir, up you get. This is clearly too much for you. Let’s go back upstairs, and I’ll give you a check-up.” Tavish pushed his chair back.

Mir’s pulse kicked into full panic mode as, after having shaken hands with his father, the blond alpha walked toward them.

“Taven, or rather Tavish?” The alpha came nearer, his smile warm, just as it had been in Hell before he took Mir with such care that they’d begun to actually look forward to seeing him. Seeing their rapist, their kidnapper. Such a fucking idiot, sorry, pups.

This time, he was assaulting Mir again, not with sly, kind words and touches, but by pretending they didn’t know them. It hurt, ripping out Mir’s confidence like his master’s cock had ripped into Mir’s backside that first time. Liars. They were all liars, getting their jollies by confusing, hurting, and using omegas. But Mir wasn’t tied now, and they wasn’t drugged like before.

Tavish was now standing, shielding Mir from his brother.

“You dark horse,” the alpha said. “Trust you to be unconventional. Not going to have to fight you for dominance, am I?”

“And spend my time traveling from factory to factory growling at groveling betas? No thanks, big brother, you can keep that. I have, or rather had, enough of that at the hospital. But I’m afraid I need to—”

“Don’t try running off again before we’ve barely exchanged words. Personally, I find the growling part the best bit,” Langish replied, and all the asslickers chuckled at his privileged, chauvinistic comment, but something niggled. Yes, this alpha resembled the one in Hell, Zepish, but his voice, his scent, even the way he moved, weren’t the same. Not him.

The panic slid out of Mir, leaving them empty, sore, and exhausted. Reaching up, Mir squeezed his hand. He glanced down, and Mir mouthed, “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” That Tavish ignored his clearly senior alpha brother to check on Mir made them feel so damn guilty for doubting him. To reassure him, Mir rolled their eyes.

“Everything ok?” the blond alpha asked.

Tavish gave Mir one more questioning look, then turned back to his brother. “Apparently so. But you can keep all those people desperate for your attention. These days, I like the quiet life. I only wrangle tough mountain ponies, and Mir is a hell of a lot better at that than I am, isn’t that right?”

Mir managed a nod, but they couldn’t raise their eyes as their mind still whirled as they worked through the problem. Hadn’t Tavish said that he was related to half the people in the district? There could be look-a-likes all over the place. They suddenly realized why Telish had appeared so familiar and intimidating; he resembled the Owner a little, and now Mir thought about it, a bit like Tavish too. Maybe they all had a common ancestor.

“You don’t want to be lord and master of all this one day?”

Tavish chuckled. “You have no worries on that score, brother. This is my idea of hell. I might have enjoyed the hustle and bustle of city life as a beta, but all these people, the sounds and scents in this room, are giving me a headache.”

Langish chuckled. “It’s been such a long time since I manifested I’d forgotten about the sensory overload. Father took me off to a special isolation facility run by the church when it happened to me, eased me in gently, so to speak. Did you manifest in the city? Must have been tough, especially as you weren’t expecting it.”

“Langish? Sayen’s going to start sulking if we delay their grand dinner any longer,” Natelle’s shrill voice rang out across the room.

“No rest from the wicked,” Langish murmured to Tavish. Then to Mir’s surprise, he spoke to them. “Nice to meet you, Mir. I hope I got that right?”

“You,” Mir’s voice cracked, and they tried again. “You did, thank you.” Even though looking at him directly made Mir’s belly tense, they managed a quick glance. Fuck, he looks like him. Their heart slowed a fraction. This alpha’s eyes were a vibrant green, unlike his doppelganger’s stormy gray. Not him.

“I’ll do my best to catch up with both of you before this spectacle ends tomorrow night.” Langish waggled his eyebrows. “There are stories here, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t try to beat Clay to at least some of them.” With that cryptic remark, Langish re-joined his intended at the top of the table where she was chatting with an alpha and omega, who resembled her enough to be her parents. Three awkward-looking children, from five to mid-teen, stood nearby, eyeing a larger group of six, the youngest of whom was in their early teens. Mir guessed the larger group were Natelle’s brood. None of them possessed the overt confidence of proto-alphas.

And fuck, am I really that shallow?They’d thought, after their own manifestation, that they wouldn’t rank an individual’s worth on what was between their legs. Mir should know better than anyone, that an individual’s physical gender didn’t always match their mental state.

To Mir’s surprise, Natelle stood as Langish took his seat next to his father. Everyone else pressed their hands together and bowed their heads. Christmas day had been the only time Mir’s family said Grace, and that had stopped after Ma had been taken.

Natelle cleared her throat and gave Mir a pointed stare. After a second of consideration of refusing to toe the line, Mir bowed their head like everyone else. Mir didn’t not believe in the Three-Faced God, but they had concluded that their deity didn’t keep a close eye on their creation, or perhaps they thought they’d done their bit by creating this pristine realm to see if their revamped intelligent creations would fuck it up again like the first version.

“Dear Lord,” Natelle’s shrill voice killed the silence as it bounced off the walls and Mir’s eardrums, “thank you for your bountiful gifts of the food we are about to enjoy and the health and happiness of the couple about to be joined.” Mir glanced up, as Natelle’s thanks was already longer than Mir remembered Ma saying. Everyone else seemed content to wait for more.

“Oh Lord,” Mir twitched as Natelle’s voice blasted out again, “help your alphas to be selfless in their service to you, and your betas in their service to their alphas. And please Lord, in your almighty wisdom, lend your strength to your daughters so that they may be humble and accepting of their place in your plan. So let it be.”

The diners, apart from Mir, and to their joy, Tavish, intoned the expected “So let it be,” and half a dozen beta servers, including the youngster who had held Clayen’s horses earlier, hurried to present the starter, chicken pate with delicate triangles of toast. It looked and smelled delicious.

As they started to spread a little of the pate on the dinky little piece of toast, Tavish leaned over.

“Sorry, no pate for you, it’s not good for the babies. I’ll see what else Sayen has,” Tavish said and turned, raising his hand to get the attention of one of the co-opted grooms.

“It’s fine, I’ll just have the bread.” Mir gave him a smile. The last thing they needed was to get the reputation for being fussy, but by the time the starter had been cleared, their belly growled like a starving bear.

When a portion of roast lamb was placed in front of Mir, and the next server asked which vegetables they’d like from the silver platter they held on one arm, Mir replied, “All of them.”

The slim, almost delicate blond beta’s eyes widened and glanced between the rectangular silver serving dish that held over half a dozen different vegetables and Mir’s plate. “All of them?”

“You heard what they said, Kenen,” Tavish said, a smile twitching his lips, “All of them.”

The beta’s mouth twitched in a hastily concealed smile. “Of course, and it’s good to see you again, Tavish.”

“You too, Kenen. Has the Junior beta house changed much?”

“Not a bit, except the beer’s gotten better.”

“Happy?” Tavish asked.

“You bet. You?”

Mir’s heart warmed as Tavish’s focus switched to them, and a warm smile curved his lips. “Couldn’t want for more.”

“What happened to “I’m not into playing around,” eh?” Fossen asked but kept their voice low.

To Mir’s delight, Tavish’s ears got a little redder, but they took pity on him. “I really am pretty hungry,” they told Kenen, “and this big lug is liable to get the lot unless I growl.”

“I am so sorry,” Kenen gushed and started to load Mir’s plate.

It wasn’t easy for the beta to fit the final few carrots on the plate alongside the heap of tiny, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, peas, green beans, parsnips, and the long pointed green stems that were apparently called ‘asparagus’. As soon as the beta moved on to Tavish, Mir tucked in, starting with the meat braised in delicious mint gravy.

Halfway through their plateful, Mir reached for their glass of water and saw at least four disapproving faces. A quick glance at the plates of the three nearest omegas showed portions hardly big enough to keep a sparrow alive, and even then they were knocking the food around their plates as if it were poison.

Tavish’s voice in their ear made Mir realize that they still held a forkful of meat halfway to their mouth. “Don’t worry about them. You’re eating for four, and they all look about as healthy as you did when I found you. Take it from a trained medical professional.”

Giving him a wink, Mir glanced over their shoulder and signaled Kenen, who seemed to have made it their personal mission to see that they were well-fed.

“Can I have some more meat? This is wonderful.”

“Of course.” The beta’s lips twitched as they got the meat platter from the heated plate on the sideboard and began putting an even more generous portion on Mir’s plate. Someone further down the table ineffectually covered a laugh by coughing. Leaning backward, Mir looked down the line to see Clayen grinning back. Mir gave them a wink.

The gasps of shock and barely concealed whispers of disgust, when Mir asked for a second portion of apple pie, was more than worth the overly full sensation. They was just wondering whether to push it and ask for a third when Tavish leaned over.

“Throwing up on the table would spoil the effect. Right now, all the betas are in awe of you, the omegas are either horrified or envious, and the alphas are shell-shocked.”

Mir blinked at him in surprise. “Being a pig is good?”

He pecked their cheek. “Being you is good. Now, do you think you’re up for a little socializing before bed?”

Anxiety started to rise again. So far, verbal interactions with his family hadn’t exactly gone well.

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay with you,” he whispered.

“United we stand and divided we fall?” Mir suggested.

“The only things I think we’re going to see falling are jaws. I can’t wait to poke a few more of them.”

Mir couldn’t help matching his grin. “Were you this naughty as a beta?”

“Hell no,” Tavish replied, “not in public anyway. A senior doctor can’t be seen being anything but responsible.”