Prologue

PROLOGUE

Blacksburg

Many, many years ago…

T he mansion was near silent, except for the low hum of the nearby television in the den. Wynter's brothers sat close, their faces illuminated in the pale light. He whimpered, the tight braids that his papa and one of the manservants were weaving into his long white-blond locks yanked at his scalp and brought tears to his eyes.

"Stand still, Wynter!"

"It hurts!" Wynter whined.

"Get used to it," his papa spat, yanking harder as he moved down the side of Wynter's head. "Pain is a part of life. Especially when you're an omega."

His papa and the servant's motions tugged him from side to side, making it hard to stay still as commanded. He did his best, knowing what would happen should he fail. Silent tears streamed down his face, the constant threat always humming in the air around him. His younger brothers lay on their bellies, watching a puppet show, their muffled giggles gaining his attention. He'd have given anything to be lying there and watching instead of being tortured.

"Wipe your face," his papa commanded.

Wynter released a sob before using his shirt sleeve to wipe his eyes and nose.

"Not on your silk shirt!" his papa screamed before swatting his ass with the wooden brush.

"Oww!" he cried, back bowing from the pain. The tears only came harder.

"Do you want me to give you a reason to cry, young man?" his papa asked, waving the brush in his face as a threat.

"No," he whimpered, moving his gaze to the floor instead of looking at the rage blazing in his papa's eyes.

"Good. So quit your crying and stand still."

Wynter did his best. He wiped his face with his hands, careful not to use his sleeve again, and attempted to hold back the tears threatening to come. When the outer door opened and he heard his father calling out, he smiled.

Salvation!

His mouth opened, the desire to call out whispered in his mind. One look at what they were doing to him and surely Daddy would save him—but he feared another swat with the brush. Closing his lips and eyes, he silently pleaded for help. Thankfully, his father swept in a couple of minutes later. He took one look at Wynter's face and growled.

"What in the hell are you doing to him?"

"He has his first day of school tomorrow. These braids take forever. I'm not waking up at some ungodly hour to do this then," Wynter's papa scowled. "So, we're doing them now."

His father moved closer. "Why are you crying, Wynter?"

"The braids hurt," he whispered.

"He'll get used to them," his papa said, tugging harder on the next plait and glaring.

"What's wrong with a single braid down his back like he usually wears?"

"We have an image to uphold," his papa spat, continuing to braid. "We do not do basic. Never have, never will."

"There's no need for this type of elaborate hairstyle for a five-year-old, Barnaby."

His papa's hands pulled his hair harder. Tighter. "Our family is not like others. There's an expectation for excellence, even for a five-year-old on his first day of school. He best get used to rising above and setting the bar higher now… before it's too late to instill these ideals in him."

"The minute he goes outside to play tomorrow, all your hard work will be for naught." Wynter's father shook his head. He eyed their manservant. "Leave us."

The servant lowered his hands and silently strode from the room. At least it saved half of Wynter's head from torment. His papa didn't stop, though, so half was all he'd get.

"There's plenty of time for him to learn that later, Barnaby."

"Do you have any idea how many parents will be standing in that schoolroom tomorrow? How many we might pass as we enter? I won't have him looking disheveled. Child or not, he will be judged, as will the entire family," Papa asked.

"Let him be a child instead of a pawn in your games."

"A pawn in my games?" his papa squawked, finally releasing Wynter's hair. "I'll remind you that my games have established us as the dominant family in this province. Thanks to our social standing, dozens of new customers have flocked to the bank in recent years, increasing our family's wealth. We set the tone in this province, from our fine home and the grand events we host here, to our children and how they present themselves. They must be well-behaved and well-heeled, and understanding of their place in all this."

"If you want to drive yourself mad climbing the social ladder, fine, but leave the kids out of it."

"I will not," his papa roared. "I've already climbed the social ladder. We are at the pinnacle, and I will not lose our spot there! Our children reflect you, me, and this family." Papa paused, taking a deep breath. "So, we take Wynter to school, with his basic hair and his basic clothes and it seeds doubt in the minds of the families we cross paths with. Do we not care enough to put our best foot forward? Do we have that same lackadaisical mindset in our family business? Then, if we allow Wynter to run around like some little classless hellion, ruining all of my work as you claim, your customers assume that we cannot control our own children. The next logical question they have is—how are they to trust you to control their millions?"

His father eyed his papa with an odd look, one Wynter had not seen before.

"Archie, our children will grow and become the next generation of leaders in this province. Our alphas will take over the bank someday, and our omegas will make advantageous matches, securing our family long after we're gone—but only if they're taught to rise to a higher level of expectation now, while they're still young and malleable."

His father looked at him, grave. Wynter pled silently, widening his eyes. It had always worked before. His father would soon snatch him up and whisk him away from the torture.

Only, his father took a step back instead.

And another.

No… Daddy…

More tears bubbled, one slipping down his cheek.

"I'm going upstairs and change out of my suit," his father murmured, offering one last worried glance at Wynter before moving toward the stairs. "I'll be back down for dinner in a half hour."

"Perfect, my darling," Wynter's papa said, a victorious note in his lilting voice. He lifted his hands back to braid, the tugs the hardest yet.

Wynter fought more tears watching his father ascend… and leaving him behind.

"Don't think I don't know what you just attempted," his papa sneered, tugging harder and harder. "You run to him and use those big, pretty, blue eyes and fat tears, knowing he'll come in to save the day. No more, Wynter. You will come to listen and do as I say."

He swatted Wynter's bottom with the brush. Hard.

Wynter yelped, gasping at the pain.

"Do you understand me?" his papa asked, whispering hotly in his ear.

Wynter's tears burned his eyes. He trembled, his knees weak.

Another swat came, harder. "I asked you a question! Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Papa," he mumbled through his sobs.

"It's a new day, my sweet boy, and time to grow up," his papa said. "Friction against stone hones the blade and makes it sharper. One day, you'll thank me for making you stronger."

Wynter closed his eyes, his head yanked to one side as the braiding continued.

"Bartholomew, I need you back in here!" his papa called out to the missing servant before yanking Wynter close. "Now, dry your damned face and stop the crying, or I'll give you something to cry about."

"Yes, Papa," he muttered, eyeing a speck of lint on the carpet and willing himself not to shed one more tear.

About five years ago…

"Where are you going?" Warden asked from his home office, just outside the foyer. He sat behind his desk, the double doors open, glaring.

Wynter stiffened. He turned to Warden and scowled, clenching his leather gloves in one fist. "I have errands to run."

"You're going to see him. Aren't you?"

Wynter forced his face to remain impassive. "I had no plans to." A lie. Warden didn't need to know his true destination.

"He dishonored this family, Wynter."

"I've heard the rumors," he murmured. Of course, those rumors worried him, but he needed to see Jamie and see if they held any merit.

"Jamie has allowed another omega under his roof, belly full with his alpha's child," Warden spat.

"The birth approaches. It makes sense for the surrogate to be near."

"Do you have any idea how that child was made?" Warden asked, tilting his head quizzically.

Wynter frowned, unsure what Warden hinted at.

"There was no clinic. No laboratory. Jamie demanded the child be made the old-fashioned way , from what I've been told."

Wynter's frown deepened. "What?"

"He invited the surrogate into their home, where Rohan bedded this omega during a heat," Warden spat, as if the words were acid on his tongue.

"Jamie wouldn't," Wynter whispered, his stomach pitching. If it was true and the province learned of it, a scandal would be born.

Another Jaymes scandal.

Wynter's thoughts went to his alpha and the threat that had kept him up at night for far too long. "Where did you hear this?" Wynter asked.

"I have my means," Warden murmured.

"No… I mean, who else knows about this? Is this spreading as we speak?" Wynter swayed on his feet, terror chilling his bones.

"As far as I know, it's been contained."

"How can you be sure?"

"A man approached me, seeking to be paid for information he had, so I did. After I did some research." Warden's jaw tightened. "Jamie smartly had sent his servants away—but he didn't realize how closely his neighbors watch the comings and goings at that house. This man saw the surrogate go in. Noticed he didn't come out for several days. During a heat cycle."

Wynter cringed. "Some random man watched this closely… or was he paid to watch?"

"When the surrogate finally departed, it was clear he was exhausted and well used," Warden continued, ignoring his question. "I had my investigators check all of the local fertility labs to confirm its veracity. Jamie and Rohan weren't working with any of them."

"From all accounts, Rohan adores Jamie. He wouldn't cuckold his omega under their very roof." Wynter shook his head. "I can't believe it's true."

"Perhaps things aren't as they seem," Warden murmured. "From the outside, people believe you to be a devoted omega and I a loving alpha. We both know the truth to that."

Wynter glared at Warden.

"I'm sure you've already heard the whispers about their new living arrangement at the club. I've faced them at the office, too. The entire province seems to know that the surrogate lives under their roof. They're already laughing at us. If the means of conception gets out, it's going to blow up and make everything ten times worse."

"But… you've contained it," Wynter said.

"Was he the only one who noticed the surrogate's coming and goings? I don't know."

"I think we should give them a chance to explain themselves," Wynter said. "Let me go talk to Jamie."

"If you go to that house, it might appear as if we approve of this disaster. I won't have it."

"Rohan works for you," Wynter said. "Isn't that a sign of approval?"

"He's been working from home as of late. That's saved me from having to fire him. Yet," Warden said. "I'd rather not lose him. He's one of the best contract attorneys in the province. I'll allow things to play out a bit before I make a decision there."

Wynter stood frozen in place, stunned. He needed to see Jamie, one way or another. "Wilder has said Jamie's cancer has returned."

"I'm aware," Warden murmured.

Wynter waited a beat or two, hoping Warden would say more. When he didn't, Wynter sighed. "We can't ignore Jamie and his health concerns, Warden. Rumors or no, we need to check on him."

Warden scoffed. "As if you care."

Wynter fought the sting of tears. "I love my son."

"You love him? Really? I remember days of you lying in bed, ignoring him as he screamed for your attention."

"I was depressed." Wynter shuddered.

"How do you explain all the years that followed? After I paid thousands for your therapies and treatments?"

Wynter choked on the words rising to his lips, knowing Warden would never listen. Warden would come up with argument after argument, manipulating him to the point he wasn't sure which way was up and which was down.

"Isn't it fitting he has cancer? He was a cancer on us both, from the moment of conception."

Wynter gasped. "Warden!"

"Feign all the shock you wish, but you know it's true. You've resented that boy since before he was even born. As have I."

Wynter cringed. Warden's words weren't completely false. Wynter loved his son, but he'd also struggled with resentment and anger, too, particularly after the scandal that had forced him into Warden's arms. He tried, and failed, to mend his and Jamie's relationship so many times over the years—but Warden had often gotten in the way. When he hadn't, Wynter was to blame. He'd opened his mouth and all the wrong things had come out. There was just so much pain and loss wrapped around his firstborn. Wynter had struggled to see his way out of it.

"I don't care what you say. I won't leave him to die alone."

Warden was on his feet and across the room faster than a man his age should've been capable of. Wynter scooted back until his back hit the opposite wall, surprised by the level of rage in the alpha's eyes. Warden grasped the front of his jacket, tightening it at the collar, and making it harder for Wynter to breathe.

"I forbid you to walk into that house of shame. Do you hear me?"

Wynter trembled against Warden. Once again, he was a small child, terrorized by a wooden brush in his papa's hand. "Yes," he whispered, the noise barely heard above the pounding of his own heart.

Warden searched his face a moment before releasing his hold. He took a step back, glaring at Wynter. "For once, you will obey me. I've worked too hard to bring Jaymes & Associates to the level it is. Jamie and his machinations threaten all I've worked so hard to build."

Hadn't he already lived through this nightmare once before? Painful memories flooded Wynter, his knees threatening to go out from under him. Tears hung from his lashes as he gazed at the monster in front of him. "You would truly keep me away from a child who might be dying?"

"Dying? He was supposedly dying last year and survived. Knowing him, he'll survive again—and then be stuck cleaning up this mess he's created of his life. We will leave him to it."

"How could you be so cruel?"

"We gave him everything!" Warden roared. "Money, wealth, prestige, even our godsdamned freedom. He throws it back in our faces with this surrogate." He chuckled. "But what else did I expect given that he's your son. He's as willful as you are."

Wynter couldn't breathe. He blinked back tears. Torn between a deadly promise made long ago and the life of his son, he stood at a crossroads. He lifted his chin and manufactured indifference. "Fine. I won't go."

Warden crossed his arms over his chest. "As if I trust you to listen." He pointed upstairs. "Go."

"I'm not a child to command."

Warden's eyes burned with rage, yet on the exterior, he appeared calm. "I will carry you up and lock the door to your bedroom if I must."

"You can't keep me a prisoner in this house."

Warden chuckled. "You imprisoned me in this mating, so let's call it even."

"I did no such thing. If anything, you imprisoned me. At least you had some say in things. I was sold off like chattel."

"Sold implies worth."

Wynter gasped inwardly. He wasn't unfamiliar with Warden's cruelty, but it had never fallen to such depths.

Warden took an aggressive step forward. "I've made little demands on you other than to play your role as expected. Here and now, I put my foot down."

Wynter looked up into the larger man's eyes, pretending the alpha's size and strength didn't intimidate. He slid his furred coat off and dropped it onto the floor, tossing his gloves atop it. "Fine, my alpha."

The corners of Warden's lips curled up. "It only took me thirty some years to get you to heel."

Wynter ignored the statement and marched back up the steps, livid. He didn't look back. He couldn't stomach Warden's smug face another second. As soon as he reached his bedroom, he let out a scream into his pillow before flinging it across the bedroom. It wasn't enough. He churned with anger. Seated on his bed, his mind spun. He refused to obey the alpha's commands so willingly. Eying the open door of his closet, he jumped from the bed and entered it, grabbing another fur and gloves before heading toward the back stairs.

As he descended, he met Vaughn, his youngest son.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?"

"None of your business," he spat.

"Fine, be that way," Vaughn replied, lifting a brow that looked identical to Warden's.

Stopping long enough to look over one shoulder, he added, "Don't tell your father I've left."

Vaughn frowned, but soon grinned from ear to ear. "What's it worth ya?"

"How about I ignore the fact two servants departed your bedroom in the early morning hours on Sunday?"

Vaughn's face reddened, yet he looked nowhere near ashamed. "That's all it's worth? I heard the arguing. The whole house did. Seems Dad doesn't want you going anywhere."

Wynter sighed. "What do you want?"

"Keys to the condo in Miamian for next month and no questions asked."

"Done," Wynter replied. He had no idea what shenanigans Vaughn had in mind, but then, alphas had the freedom to do whatever the hell they wanted with little consequence. Omegas much less so. "Keep your fool mouth shut."

"Sweet," Vaughn murmured behind him as Wynter stomped down into the kitchen.

Several of the servants glanced in his direction but averted their eyes. As Vaughn had said, the whole house had heard their arguing. He ignored them, exited the back door, and trudged toward the garage, slipping his coat on. Their recently hired driver was there, waxing one of the cars.

"I need a ride."

"I was just informed not to take you anywhere," the beta said coolly.

Shit. That was fast. Wynter glared at the man. "What will it cost to have you ignore that order?"

The beta spun slowly, staring him up and down with a slow, syrupy grin growing. "What do you have to offer me?"

Wynter narrowed his eyes. "Not what appears to be on your mind."

The beta scoffed. "Two thousand."

"For one drive?"

"For going against your alpha's orders. I might end up losing my job. Gotta have severance, just in case."

Wynter didn't have that kind of cash lying around, but then remembered he wore it. He slid two thick golden bracelets off his wrist and handed them over. "How's this?"

Their driver took them, inspected each, and shrugged. "These worth two grand?"

"Probably more," Wynter murmured.

The driver pocketed them. "Get in."

Wynter crossed the space and slipped into the back of the newly polished car. The driver slid behind the wheel, started the engine, and sped out of the back drive.

"Where am I taking you?"

"My son's house. Jamie."

"I don't know that I have that address," the man said.

Wynter rattled it off, staring out the windows at the passing scenery.

"Seems you and the alpha aren't in a good place right now," the driver murmured.

"That's none of your concern."

"Well, I know omegas have needs. If they're not being met, I wouldn't mind helping out in that regard."

Wynter's gaze flipped to the back of the man's head, incensed.

"Don't give me that look. I know how to please an omega."

Wynter realized the man watched him in the rearview. His gaze flicked there, and he scowled.

"You're not bad looking—for an older omega. I'd fuck you." He grinned. "Might've already masturbated to the thought of it a couple of times already."

Wynter bit his lip. He was at the man's mercy until he returned home—where he would quickly ensure the man was fired. Why hadn't he learned to drive? Oh, because no one wanted to teach an omega, that's why. "How about you focus on the road and get me to my destination?"

The driver grinned. "Sure thing, sir."

A sudden thought hit him. He might never make it to his destination. The man could stop the car and overpower him with ease. In his desire to rebel against one man, he'd opened himself to danger from another. Wynter pulled his coat tighter and prayed he made it to Jamie's safely.

The second they pulled into Jamie's neighborhood, he breathed a sigh of relief. As close as they were, he could walk from there if he needed to get away quickly—if he had the nerve to escape a moving vehicle, that was. Thankfully, the car came to a halt in front of Jamie and Rohan's, and he slipped out before the beta could say a single word. "I won't be long. Wait here."

"Sur—"

Wynter slammed the door closed, unwilling to hear another barbaric comment from their soon-to-be ex-employee. He sped up the front stairs and knocked on the door. A few seconds passed before Rohan opened it.

A look of surprise crossed the alpha's face. "What are you doing here?"

"My son still lives here, does he not?"

Rohan scoffed. "He does."

"Are you going to let me in?"

Rohan stepped back, silent, and ushered Wynter inside.

Wynter entered, the claim Warden had made not an hour before swirling in his brain. Unable to stop himself, he needed to know if it was true. "I hear that you and your surrogate have been intimate. Under your omega's roof, no less."

From the look of shame on Rohan's face, Wynter immediately realized it was true. Anger roiled in his belly.

Rohan closed the door and slowly spun to face Wynter. "That is between my omega and I."

"Not when rumors might be spreading. Warden spoke of it earlier, and I was sure it had to be a lie. Now I sense it might not."

Rohan breathed in. Breathed out. He pegged Wynter with a gaze. "I won't entertain gossip, even from Jamie's own papa."

"Do you know how explosive this could become? You took this surrogate to bed in your omega's home? How could you disrespect Jamie like that?"

"You don't get to show up on our doorstep after months of disregard and ask personal questions about our relationship, especially not when you son lies upstairs, his body failing."

Wynter froze. Worry about gossip slipped from his mind. "It's as bad as Wilder said? Jamie's health?"

Rohan took another steadying breath, tears shimmering in his eyes. "Go see for yourself."

Wynter's knees weakened seeing the emotion reflected in Rohan's eyes. He steeled himself for what he might encounter.

"But let me be clear with you," Rohan threatened, his eyes suddenly bright with hatred. "If you upset him or hurt him in any way, you will have me to deal with."

Wynter lifted his chin, hoping it didn't wobble. "Noted."

"He's in the room at the end of the hall," Rohan murmured, pointing up the stairs.

"You've changed bedrooms?"

Rohan winced. "He wanted space of his own."

Wynter frowned, opening his mouth to argue, but the words died on his lips when Rohan turned to glare. That look spoke volumes, and it was clear Rohan wasn't happy about the change.

Had his bedding the surrogate caused it?

"End of the hall," Rohan spat between clenched teeth.

Wynter swallowed. He slid his coat off and laid it over the end of the banister before rising up the stairs. He slowed his steps once he reached the hall, almost sure he smelled the scent of death. It had been years, but he'd once visited his grandpapa and the aroma had been quite the same. The memory had haunted him for many years after. Heart in his throat, he padded down to the last bedroom and knocked.

"Come in," a whisper of a voice said behind it.

Wynter had tried to prepare himself, but it hadn't been enough. He fought tears as he eyed his emaciated son lying in the bed. After a deep breath, he forced a smile and feigned cheer. "There you are."

Jamie's eyes seemed to brighten. "Papa?"

"Are you up for a visit?"

"Of course. Come in." Jamie pressed a button on the hospital bed, lifting his head to a sitting position.

Wynter entered and turned to close the door, fighting emotion and hiding it from his son. When he spun again, he smiled brilliantly and crossed the bedroom. Years of pretending to be happy had finally paid off. "It's been too long since we've talked. Wilder called and said you've been… under the weather." He forced out the last words, words woefully missing the target. He sat on the edge of the bed and took Jamie's hand. "I wanted to come see how you were doing myself."

Jamie smiled and the brilliance of it hadn't faded as his body had. "I'm doing better. The babies are coming soon, and I can't wait to meet them."

"Babies? There's more than one?"

"Twins," Jamie said, his eyes gleaming with life and joy. "Gray and I have been shopping and decorating—and getting the house ready. It's been a madhouse here."

"I bet," Wynter said, holding tight to the smile. The fact another omega lived in his house, carrying his alpha's sons, and Jamie acted as if was all perfectly acceptable didn't seem possible. Rohan was Jamie's fated mate. Wynter would've clawed the surrogate's eyes out if he'd been in Jamie's place. But he kept that to himself. Jamie appeared comfortable and happy—so he wouldn't rock the boat. Not with Jamie seeming so weak. "I wish I'd been around to help you. It sounds like fun."

"It's kept me busy, for sure," Jamie said. "I cannot wait to have two new babies in this house, though it's near bursting already."

"Oh?"

"Gray has been put on bedrest, so we moved him here so we could look after him. He's the guardian for his two young nephews, so we moved them in here, as well."

Of course he's moved his whole family in. He's here to replace you. Wynter wondered whose idea it had really been. Jamie's, Rohan's, or this surrogate's? Anger roiled in his belly on Jamie's behalf. Were the pair really cuckolding his son under that very roof?

Wynter brushed back Jamie's hair. "Is that wise? To have so many in the house when you're unwell?"

"It's been my dream to have this house full, and now it is. Soon, to be even fuller." Jamie grinned. "Rohan and I dreamed of a big, happy family—and now we have it."

Wynter smiled, fighting back tears. He worried for Jamie's wellbeing, but what could he say? Anything he brought up might cause a fight, and Jamie was in no condition for that. "Sounds like you've gotten everything you wanted."

"Almost," Jamie murmured. "Once the babies arrive, all my plans will be complete."

"Your plans?"

Jamie grinned. "A big, happy family for Rohan."

"Is it… your plan? Or is it Rohan's?"

Jamie's smile faded. "It is all me. Not Rohan. Not Gray. Me. I wanted this, for Rohan. He's struggled with some of my decisions, but it's all for him and one day, he will see why I made the choices I did."

Wynter squeezed Jamie's hand, fighting his skepticism. He'd not come to argue. "You love him? Don't you?"

"Rohan? Of course. He's my alpha."

Wynter scoffed inwardly. Having an alpha didn't always automatically spell out happiness and love. He knew that all too well. Rohan might be using Jamie's love and adoration and that chafed. Had he been closer to his son, he could've protected him better.

"And if he's willing to bring all these souls into the house, he must love you, too," Wynter said for Jamie's benefit alone. He wasn't going to upset his sweet boy. No more than he might already have.

"He does," Jamie murmured, grinning. "He's the best man I've ever known. That's why I wanted to give him these children. The world needs more men like my alpha."

Wynter nodded. "The world does indeed need good men. Especially good alphas."

Jamie's smile faded. "I know you weren't pleased with the idea of me having children with a surrogate. I assumed that's why you've not visited."

Wynter met his son's gaze and knew how much he'd failed Jamie in that moment. "I've never told you much about my papa, have I?"

"No. You've shared little about any of your family, even when I've asked."

"There's a reason I didn't share. I tried to protect you boys from it." Wynter sighed. "He was demanding. Cruel." Wynter paused, forcing back emotions. "He expected perfection, and if I didn't deliver it, he would show his displeasure in the worst of ways."

"What ways?"

Wynter clenched his jaw. "That doesn't matter. Just know that he left his mark on me."

Jamie frowned.

"I fear he left too deep a mark," Wynter whispered. "His demands for perfection, he passed them down to me. I tried my best not to become like him, but in some ways I have." Wynter had never beaten his children. That wasn't exactly a high bar to set, but he clung to it, knowing he'd saved them from at least one horror from his childhood. "I demanded perfection of you, and your brothers, but especially you." He brushed a tear from the corner of his eye. "I asked too much. I'm sorry I put that weight on your shoulders or made you feel you could never meet my expectations."

"You only wanted the best for us. I know that."

"No," Wynter said. "I wasn't always a good papa to you. I didn't know how to be. I'm sorry I've failed you."

Jamie's soft smile broke him. "You loved me. In your own way. I know that."

"That's not good enough," Wynter whispered.

"It is," Jamie replied, squeezing Wynter's hand.

"No," Wynter said, shaking his head. Faced with losing his son, the fears and resentments faded. "I've wasted so much time and made so many mistakes, but I need you to know how much I love you."

Jamie smiled. "Aww… I love you, too, Papa."

Wynter squeezed Jamie's hand, almost fearing he was holding too tight. Deep down, he sensed he might be holding it for one of the last times and he had so much he wanted to say. "There's so many things I never shared." He trembled, holding back decades of pain. He wouldn't unload that on Jamie, not in his son's weakened condition. If only he'd opened up and shared it long ago. Maybe then, they could've repaired the chasm between them, but he'd feared it would only cause more pain and destroy what little they had. "But there's time for that later," Wynter said, wiping another tear from the corner of his eye. "Today, I want to hear more about this family of yours."

"I've shared most of my news already. We're in limbo until the little ones arrive." Jamie's smile grew again. "But I'm curious. I've asked so many questions over the years and you've always been such a closed book. You've never told me the story of how you and Daddy met—and how I came to be. I'd love to know that one."

Wynter's chest ached like fire, his lungs burning. How could he tell his dying son that horrific story? "Oh, you don't want to hear that."

"I do," Jamie said, emphatic. "Please . I want to know."

"I can't," Wynter whispered. "Not now."

Jamie's smile faded. "Come on, Papa. I know you and Daddy aren't fated mates."

Wynter lifted his gaze, surprised.

Jamie chuckled. "I have a fated mate. I know what that love looks like. I see the world when I look into Rohan's eyes." Jamie paused. "Because of that, I know what you and Daddy share can't be a fated match."

Wynter's lower lip trembled.

"I'm sure the story might not be pretty, but I want to know how I came to be. Can you please give me that?"

Wynter blinked back tears. "I can't."

"Please."

"It'll only cause more pain. I don't want to hurt you. In fact, I promised your alpha that I wouldn't before I came upstairs. I won't have him angry with me."

"Don't worry about Rohan. I want to know our story."

"As you said, it's not pretty," Wynter murmured. "I can't—no, I won't —do that to you."

"I need to know where I came from. Before I leave this world, I want to understand how my life began," Jamie said, squeezing his hand. "Please, Papa."

Wynter searched his son's face, fearing the truth might damage them both, but how could he refuse that request? He turned away, fearing he was making a mistake, but he'd denied Jamie too much as it was. "If I tell you that you were right… that we're not fated mates, can that be enough for you?"

Jamie searched his face. "Perhaps it'll have to be. I just wish you'd open up and share, Papa. We don't have much time left."

"Don't say that!" Wynter blinked back tears. If the end was near, no way was he compounding all of his past mistakes by telling Jamie he hadn't been a happy accident.

Far from it.

"Look at me, Papa. I know my time is limited."

"No," Wynter sobbed. He opened his mouth to say more but couldn't find the words.

"I have some things I want to say, if that's okay? They might not be easy to hear, but I need to say them."

Wynter nodded. "Of course."

"I spent my life trying my damnedest to make you proud," Jamie said. "And never felt like I could. When I finally stopped trying, that is where I found peace."

"I was proud of you." Wynter smiled. "And I'm glad that despite me and my lack of telling you that, you found that peace."

"I know you don't approve of all my choices, namely the most recent one—to give Rohan children via a surrogate, but I don't care what you think. I don't care what anyone outside this house thinks. Gray and the promise he brings has made me the happiest I've ever been in my entire life."

Tears rolled over Wynter's cheeks, and yet he smiled. "I'm glad for that. You deserve every happiness, my sweet boy."

"And I know I wasn't wanted. I know you did your best to hide that from me, but I know."

"Of course you were wanted," Wynter murmured. He bit back the bile rising in his throat.

"Please don't lie to me," Jamie whispered. "I'm at a stage in my life where I want to be completely honest when I look at my life and where my path has lead me. I wish I knew the story of how I came to be, but if it's too painful, I won't push any harder. But know, I've always sensed it wasn't happy. Having confirmation that you and Daddy aren't fated mates… I think I was right. You were forced into a situation out of your control, and burdened with a child you didn't want."

"No," Wynter said—to guard Jamie's heart. "That's not true."

"You don't have to protect me anymore, Papa." He smiled softly. His lids grow heavy, and he seemed drawn. "I sense it was hard for you. I think you did the best you knew how to do in an untenable situation. Were there mistakes made along the way? Sure. No one's perfect. I'm sure not."

Wynter considered those words, starring down at his son's hand. He thought back to a time it had been tiny, clutching his. How much he'd give to go back in time and have a chance to do it all over again. To do it better. He lifted his gaze and captured Jamie's. "You're a lot closer to perfect than I'll ever be. I'm so proud of the man you've become, in the face of how things began. I don't know how you became so sweet. So kind. Or where this enormous heart of yours came from—but it's beautiful. You're one of a kind, Jamie. A wild rose grown from the briars."

"Thank you," Jamie whispered. He squeezed Wynter's hand, yawning. "I would love to sit and chat some more, but I'm suddenly quite tired."

"Then you need your rest," Wynter whispered, chest aching at how strained Jamie appeared. "We can talk more later."

"Will you come back and sit with me again?"

"Of course," Wynter said. His thoughts drifted back to Warden and their ugly exchange. He knew it might prove difficult, but he'd find a way. "I love you, Jamie."

Jamie's eyes fell closed. "I love you, too, Papa."

Wynter brushed back Jamie's hair and pressed a kiss to his son's forehead. "Sleep well."

He lowered the bed for Jamie and drew up the thin blanket. "Comfortable?"

"Mmm -hmmm," Jamie murmured, eyes closing.

Wynter stood watching a moment, remembering standing at the corner of Jamie's tiny crib and watching the infant sleep in the late hours, when Warden was snoring, lost to the world. He dabbed at his eye before he quietly exited and closed the door. He stood on the other side, frozen by guilt. Should he have shared the tragic circumstances surrounding Jamie's conception? In his mind, it would've only made old wounds deeper, yet he hated not honoring Jamie's request.

Next time.

Wynter forced himself down the hallway and down the stairs. As he collected his jacket from the banister, Rohan appeared in the foyer.

"All well?"

"I don't approve of this situation. This surrogate doesn't belong here," Wynter said.

"Fortunately for us, you have no say in what happens here."

Wynter snarled. "How could he want this? To be replaced."

"No one's replacing Jamie," Rohan snapped.

Wynter searched his son-in-law's face a few seconds. He saw pain shining in the alpha's eyes. "How long does Jamie have?"

Rohan winced. "He's back in treatment. He'll make it. Just like last time."

Wynter sensed Jamie's understanding of his situation was clearer than the denial of his alpha. "What treatments?"

"The ones he and I have discussed with his oncologist. A similar protocol as last time."

Wynter sniffed. "The one that didn't work."

"Do you know how hard we had to convin—" Rohan paused, shaking his head. "Wynter, by the gods, get the fuck out before I throw you out."

He glared at Rohan. "This is my son's house."

"But not yours."

Wynter growled. "I'll be back."

"Will you really?" Rohan asked, one brow rising.

Wynter opened his mouth to argue but knew the situation with Warden would make things difficult. He didn't have the emotional capacity left to explain his predicament, nor did he want to. "I'll talk to you soon." He departed without another word and slipped back into the backseat of the waiting limo. "Home, please."

"You got it," the beta said before starting the engine and pulling away.

Wynter sensed it might be the last time he saw his son. The tears slid down his cheeks as they drove through the Family Quadrant's verdant neighborhoods. Children played in yards, happily enjoying the day, ignorant of the pain lancing Wynter's chest.

Their driver remained silent, luckily. He wasn't in a place to fight off more barbed comments. Wynter sat in his sadness and lifted a gaze to the heavens. He wasn't a religious man, but he sent up a prayer to the gods all the same.

Spare Jamie. Allow him more time.

Give him a little happiness.

Please.

When he returned home, Wynter struggled to get to his feet. Exhaustion pulled at his limbs, making them heavy. No wonder Jamie had grown tired. He wasn't dealing with cancer and their conversation had drained him.

He entered the back door and slowly climbed the back stairs, avoiding the heavy, curious looks he felt from the staff. Waiting for him at the top of the stairs as a furious Warden.

"You couldn't wait ten minutes to disobey me, could you?"

Wynter eyed Warden, the fear he'd felt during their earlier argument nothing in the face of loss. "He knows."

Warden frowned.

"That we were not fated mates and that his creation was not a pleasant one."

"You told him? And you called me cruel?"

"He guessed. He's seen the love of an alpha and realized we didn't share that. He told me that today—and that he's suspected that our coming together wasn't happy or pleasant."

Warden scowled.

"It wasn't pleasant. I hated you touching me. Still do."

"As if touching you has been enjoyable for me, either?" Warden spat.

Bitter silence hung between them.

Decades thick.

"I've never told you this, but I met him. My fated mate," Wynter murmured. Why he said it, he wasn't sure. Perhaps he wanted to injure the alpha… to make Warden hurt as much as he did.

The lack of surprise on Warden's face shocked him. "You knew?"

"I suspected," Warden muttered.

"I loved it when he touched me," Wynter said. "The only time I've ever craved a man's touch."

"Stop," Warden spat.

"It was on the train to Blacksburg," Wynter said. "You remember that, don't you? When you sent me away?"

"If you cross this line, we can never go back," Warden warned.

"He and I spent hours together on the train," Wynter prodded. "Him showing me real pleasure. I screamed for him, shaken to my core."

"I'm going to retire from the company soon," Warden said, interrupting.

Wynter narrowed his eyes. "As if I want you here more often?"

"No, but what you say next might impact which son takes my chair."

Wynter stilled, eyes wide. Had there been an insinuation in his threat?

"Once Wilder is ready to take over, I will retire, though I'll remain the President of the Board of Directors," Warden said. "A year. Maybe two. I don't want to deviate from that plan, but don't force my hand because I will."

Wynter remained silent, every nerve firing at once. His body tingled painfully.

"All these years… you assumed I was oblivious to your deceit." Warden chuckled wickedly. "I'm not a stupid man, Wynter. Far from it."

Warden knew? He knew the truth about Wilder's parentage?

Warden chuckled. "I suspected this might've been a way to keep you in check, but feared using it too soon and overplaying my hand."

Wynter lifted a hand to his throat, fearing he'd lose his breakfast.

"You want Wilder to have the world. He's always been your favorite—and I'll admit, he's grown into an amazing young man. Strong, smart, and capable. I'd hate for him to lose everything now, because you couldn't keep your mouth shut." Warden moved closer. "You will do as I ask from here on out—if you want to protect your son and avoid more scandal. Do you understand me?"

Wynter bit the inside of his cheek. "Yes."

"Good." Warden drew in a deep breath. "You won't return to see Jamie again."

Wynter clenched his jaw. "Warden… he's dying."

"If you return to that house, Wilder loses all. If you bribe another of the servants to go against my wishes, Wilder loses all." Warden inched closer, almost touching Wynter. "If you do anything that I disapprove of, Wilder loses all."

Heavy silence hung between them. Wynter fought the need to shove a fist in the middle of Warden's face. He stared at the wall instead of that face, avoiding temptation.

"Wilder is my son," Warden spat near his ear. "I raised that boy from the day he popped out of that vile body of yours. I'm the one who taught him how to be an alpha. I trained him to run my company as the next CEO—but if you wish to challenge that, I will make it hurt. And he'll only have you to blame."

Bastard. How could he pit his affection for one son against the other?

"Now, run along to your room and freshen up. Dinner's in an hour. I expect you down there to play your part to perfection, just as you have all these years."

Did he threaten Wilder's future for Jamie's comfort?

It was an impossible situation.

Either choice, and he'd be the villain.

"Yes… my alpha," Wynter spat through clenched teeth.

"If only I'd realized sooner how easy it would be to control you," Warden said. "I should've used blackmail years ago."

Warden turned and left him there, radiating anger, on the platform between stairs. When he was finally able to move again, he strode to his bedroom, closed the door, and while he wanted to break down, he refused to.

Perhaps later, after dinner, when he could be alone for the rest of the night. Then he could shatter in peace. Until then, he wouldn't allow Warden the satisfaction of seeing it. He freshened up and changed his clothes. Before he exited, he forced the smile he'd practice for decades on his face and considered pushing Warden Jaymes into ongoing traffic.