CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SIX

RICHARD

Richard stood in the palace throne room, dressed in royal Hargreave regalia of purple, white, and black. He wore a formal coat with tails and gold buttons, a deep purple vest patterned with black scrollwork, a white cravat, black breeches with a purple stripe along the outside of the thighs, and black, knee-high boots holding a dazzling shine.

Justin adored this outfit. He'd first admitted it shyly, but later, he would leer and talk about how good a "man in old-fashioned uniform" looked. He would compliment Richard on how well his ass fit the breeches or vice versa. It always amused Richard to no end and made his wolf preen.

This is the wrong time to be thinking about Justin, he warned himself. But inside his head, his wolf remained defiant. That beast had been seven shades of unruly lately. All this ceremony and pageantry wasn't helping. Richard had been on edge for months now.

Next to him, his father wore something similar to Richard, but taking it to the level of a king, with a cape and plenty of jewels and gold on display. The Hargreave crown rested upon his head, a band of solid gold with triangular shapes thrusting upward from the top, each one holding a carved ruby. They were designed to look like flames, some claimed. Or blood-stained wolf teeth.

The king also wore the golden chain of the alpha around his neck and held the seven-foot-long royal staff. The haft was ash wood, and the last foot of the staff was wrapped in gleaming gold. At the very top, the golden Hand of the Goddess spread above a wolf's head, with a dozen diamonds set in a circle around it, stylized as spiky shards of light radiating outward.

Judging by spectacle alone, they were well-turned out for their first meeting with the Rainier Pack and Richard's Goddess-chosen mate. Richard couldn't help but feel a pang of bitterness seeing all the wealth and pageantry on display during this formal session of court. His father had never done this for Justin.

Richard remained at his father's right hand, but they weren't standing upon the dais. Instead, they waited in the center of the throne room, where the inlay marble tiles formed a diamond three meters across at its widest point. Inside the diamond was a complex pattern with the Hargreave coat of arms and the Altaden city crest, all meticulously detailed in differing shades of marble and precious stones. Ornate wall sconces made to resemble stylized torches blazed along the throne room between the banners and heraldry. A massive, ten-foot-wide crystal-and-diamond chandelier hung from the rafters. The throne room rafters arched so far above them that they remained lost in gloom, and to counter the shadows, they were patterned with glinting specialty lights resembling stars.

The two of them faced the imposing, ten-foot-high double doors leading into the throne room. Advisors, courtiers, and nobles lined the walls and balconies. Captain Heath Sieger stood at attention along with the other captains of the Royal Guard in ranks behind their commander. Richard's father hadn't demoted Heath for his involvement in the bar brawl as he'd threatened. That had been a small victory won by Richard's absolute submission.

The royal herald stepped forward and slammed the butt of his staff of office on the marble floor, the booms echoing in the room and silencing the low, excited murmurs of the crowd.

The herald announced the arrival of King Eric and Queen Francine Rainier, followed by a slew of titles. Two Royal Guards pulled open the massive doors, and the Rainier procession began to enter. The herald moved on to announcing their firstborn son, Prince Peter Rainier, then two more daughters and another son, and again, followed by a mouthful of noble titles. When the herald finished, he boomed his staff upon the floor, bowed to King Hargreave, and stepped aside.

Speakers concealed in the arching ceiling and discretely placed along the walls began to play the royal anthem of the Rainier Pack. It was a very brassy anthem, full of vibrant trumpets and horns. He liked it more than the Hargreave kingdom anthem, which sounded like something composed during a Russian winter.

Richard watched impassively as the Rainier procession continued at a carefully measured snail's pace across the throne room to where they waited. The Rainier king was burly, with a bushy red-gold beard and the same-colored hair down to his shoulders, albeit streaked with gray. He was dressed in dark gray and cloth of gold, with an ornate cloak of red, gray, and gold on his shoulders. He also wore a ring on every finger and a crown upon his head. The queen was handsome and dignified but with a severe air about her that her husband didn't share. She had sharp, intelligent eyes and silvered blonde hair. Her royal gown was red and gray, with Leavers lace and silver beading. Her crown was closer to a circlet, and she wore a collar necklace of diamonds and rubies around her neck.

Richard's gaze finally fell upon the most important person there—at least to him—as the delegation ponderously approached with the music reaching a crescendo. Prince Peter Rainier, his Goddess-appointed omega, stood taller than Justin, a fact Richard immediately didn't appreciate. Justin always seemed to fit so well in his arms, his head nestled against Richard's chest. This was an unwelcome change. The first of many, most likely.

Stop thinking of Justin, damn it!

Far easier said than done, but he needed to do it. Comparing this omega prince to Justin simply wasn't fair.

Prince Rainier had the red-gold hair of his father and the wide hazel eyes of his mother. He peered at Richard with unabashed curiosity. His features were narrow, with high cheekbones, delicate eyebrows, and Cupid's bow lips. Whereas Justin always had a shy-cute air to him, Peter Rainier had a boldness and a bounce in his step. Yet, the boldness didn't strike Richard as arrogance or even the slightest bit of haughtiness.

The other prince wore a modernized doublet in gray with a high neck, ruby buttons, red piping, and gray braiding. His slim breeches were tucked into boots that came to mid-thigh. A bright red sash hung across his chest with intricate crests and heraldic designs sewn into it. Peter Rainier looked sharp and distinguished in his formal attire, and yet, all Richard could do was remember the quirky things Justin would wear. Not fashion avant-garde, but odd little touches that were so Justin. Eccentric hats and statement pieces. Colors that came a hair's breadth from clashing but ended up working. Mixing odd things. Once, he'd worn a red tuxedo with tails and a black cowboy hat. He had a tie with a sleeping kitten on it—as kitschy as it came—and Justin had worn it with Richard to some formal event or other. And Justin's answer for the quirky things he wore?

"I'm different, so I should dress differently, too. If they focus on my clothes, they don't really focus on me. The me of me. Who I am. What I am. Do you understand?"

Richard hadn't at the time. Not exactly. But maybe he understood now, after everything that had happened. Justin hid much of himself from an often hostile world. Richard hadn't understood because Justin had opened to him like a flower. He'd seen the real Justin from the beginning and loved him without reservation.

Richard shook himself out of his straying thoughts as the visiting delegation reached them in the center of the throne room. His father greeted the king and queen of the Rainier Pack, bidding them welcome and conveying his pleasure at having them here. They replied in kind, mirroring the formal language that lacked in originality what it made up for in measured political emptiness.

When it was Richard's turn to act, he stepped forward and bowed to the visiting king and queen. He regurgitated the words of welcome the chamberlain had frantically pleaded with him to memorize. He spoke them flawlessly and with the required gravity and royal dignity. The chamberlain needn't have worried. Richard was an old hand at these kinds of ceremonies, greeting dignitaries and playing the game. After a few empty pleasantries, the alpha king and queen of Rainier neatly stepped aside, and Prince Peter Rainier stepped forward to meet him.

They both bowed to each other at the same time, to exactly the same degree. This was part of the protocol he'd had to practice. Richard understood the significance of ceremony, the importance of displays of power, posturing, and subtle diplomacy, but it had been a long time since he'd been impressed by any of it. Not the wealth, not the pageantry, not the power itself. It essentially came down to (as "shy" Justin had once jokingly whispered during one of these things) pack alphas comparing cock sizes.

"Greetings, Prince Richard Hargreave." The omega prince's expression was solemn, but his eyes were friendly. His voice was high and sweet. "I've come in good faith, at the will of the Goddess, to meet my future mate. I am well pleased."

The words were formalized and meaningless on a personal level. Nothing to get excited about. Richard caught Prince Rainier's omega scent. It was spicy, complex, sharp. Richard expected it to immediately stir his wolf instincts, his mating instincts. After all, that's what had happened with Justin the first time they'd met. The impact had been as staggering as a kick to the gut. That was the best way to describe it, and no, it hadn't been pleasant, but it had been undeniable.

It was not the same with this omega prince.

"Greetings Prince Peter Rainier," Richard said, carefully hiding his unease over having so different a reaction to this omega wolf. "I receive you in good faith, at the will of the Goddess, to meet my future mate. I am well pleased."

The gathered nobles politely clapped. Music played again. His father gave a speech filled with all the usual platitudes. How bright the future looked. The strength of the pack further bolstered by this coming bond. The blessings of the Goddess. How wolf shifters, regardless of pack or politics, must stick together against other shifters and especially humans. King Eric Rainier's speech followed the same general outlines, so much so that Richard was soon quite excessively bored. When he was king, he would be certain to replace all the royal speech writers with typing monkeys.

Richard stood next to Prince Rainier, and yet his mind kept wandering. His sharp senses caught the scent of the omega's sweat and nervousness. But that humanizing detail only made him think of Justin again. How terrified Justin had been in the beginning. As skittish as a mouse in a room full of hungry cats. All Richard had wanted to do was protect Justin, reassure him, whisper to him that everything would be all right. They were together now…

He moved like a puppet through the rest of the ceremony, followed by the celebration feast. He sat across from Prince Rainier through five courses, the last a dessert dish popular on the West Coast, created by a famous wolf shifter chef in the 1940s. It was called Heaven's Indulgence and was decadently good—almost too much of a good thing. His teeth ached a little after eating it. Needless to say, he had little time to exchange anything but banal pleasantries with the omega prince during the dinner.

It was only several hours after the feast that he had the chance to "informally" meet his new mate. It was all carefully scheduled, of course. At first, the meeting was to be a stroll in the gardens, all lit up by decorative tin lanterns strung on cables between strips of cloth that fluttered in the breeze, giving the illusion of shifting patterns in the lantern glow. But Richard had refused the gardens outright. He had not been in the gardens since the night he'd sent Justin away. He had no interest in ever setting foot in them again.

Instead, they'd moved their meeting place to one of the palace balconies with a view of Boston. For him, it was safer here, with fewer ties to Justin. Thus, it would be far fairer for Prince Rainier, who deserved better. He was as trapped by the inevitability of royal shifter life as was Richard.

He arrived first and took a seat at a table on the balcony. A decorative candle fixture burned with two flames in the center of the table. The only other light filtered through the palace windows. Two servants stood at attention near the palace wall in formal uniforms, waiting to pour the wine or spirits. Richard could use something to settle his nerves. He was tempted to begin drinking before his guest—his mate—arrived, but that would've been insufferably rude, so he did not. His father should be proud of his restraint. Richard sat with his legs crossed, leaning on an elbow, cupping his chin as he stared across the Mystic River at the brilliant lights of Boston.

Do not think of Justin, he warned himself for the thousandth time. Peter Rainier deserves better than that.

True. But whether Richard could manage to do as he bid himself was another tale entirely. It was supposed to be easier than this. What was the cliché? That time healed all wounds? Perhaps, but there was plenty of blood loss before the healing finished.

Justin had not faded from his mind. Richard might go an hour or more without thinking of the omega wolf, and then suddenly, thoughts and memories of his former mate would shove their way into his mind. He dreamed of Justin with unnerving regularity. For every good dream he had of Justin, he had plenty more that were essentially nightmares. Most often, they were variations on Richard ending things with the omega wolf. Or Justin fleeing the city, hunted by the Royal Guard. Or finding out that Justin was dead. In one gut-wrenching dream, Justin had been killed by psychotic humans who hated omega "perversion."

Two Royal Guards swung open the balcony doors, distracting him from his dark thoughts. Light from inside spilled into the night. Prince Rainier moved from the warm light into the darkness on the balcony, his features becoming shadowed. Richard stood, grateful for the diversion, even if this meeting turned out to be as pained and awkward as he expected.

Prince Rainier had changed into a classy, dark gray jacket and lighter gray, marled sweater, trousers, and loafers. He smiled as he continued across the balcony toward Richard, moving gracefully and without hesitation. Richard stepped around the table and held out his hand. Peter's smile widened as he shook it. The omega prince had very soft hands with cool skin. Yet another difference from Justin, who always felt very warm to him.

"Greetings, Prince Hargreave," Peter said, staring up at him with wide eyes. His scent was the same as in the throne room, of course, without the smell of stress sweat. Now he smelled faintly of soap. "We meet again."

Richard smiled and released the omega's hand. "A pleasure yet again. Please, be seated."

He drew out Peter's chair for him as expected and returned to take his seat. The two servants approached and poured them each a glass of wine. It was a Cabernet Sauvignon from Washington State. A little gesture intended to honor Richard's guest.

Richard raised his glass. "To Prince Rainier, my distinguished guest, and the Rainier Pack. Welcome as friends."

Prince Rainier raised his glass. They touched rims and drank. A slightly awkward silence descended after the toast. In a way, he'd expected as much. The toast had been the only formal thing he was obligated to say. After that, this conversation had to live or die on its own.

Prince Rainier turned to look out at the lights of Boston across the water. "What a simply stunning view."

"I'm pleased you like it." Richard sipped his wine and tried to think of something else to say.

He'd been schooled in the art of small talk—one of the many things nobles were trained in, along with ballroom dancing and royal protocols—but instead of filling the air with shallow words, he found himself staring at the city lights again. His thoughts returned to Justin with the inevitability of iron filings drawn to a magnet. It was not fair to constantly compare Peter Rainier to Justin, yet Richard felt powerless to stop it.

"What are you thinking about, my prince?" Peter asked, looking at him with those wide eyes glittering in the light from the two candles. Those eyes seemed to have a perpetually curious look, as if anything and everything fascinated him.

"Call me Richard."

"So curt." Peter smiled, but his scent remained guarded, wary. Richard supposed he had earned that, making a poor showing as a good host. "Very well, Richard, please call me Peter." The omega prince's smile wavered, and his curious eyes grew uncertain, yet he maintained the pretense of politeness. "You obviously have a lot on your mind."

It finally hit home that this ordeal could be no easier for Peter. He'd had no more say in any of this than Richard. That, at least, was something they shared.

Richard hoped that realization would be the spark of something more inside him, a first connection between them. But he still could not reconcile his feelings with his duty. He couldn't understand why this felt so different from meeting Justin for the first time. If Peter were Richard's mate, Richard should be feeling more. His reactions should be more intense. At the very least, he should feel the way he'd immediately felt about Justin—the undeniable pull toward his mate, the urge to learn everything there was to know about him, the simple pleasure in hearing his voice…

But he couldn't tell Peter those concerns. He would not wound the man.

No, you saved all your harm for Justin, didn't you?

Richard shoved those concerns aside and forced a smile. "I was thinking about how I wish I could show you the palace in springtime, when all the flowers are in bloom, instead of autumn, when everything is fading."

"Oh, I like autumn. It's a very melancholy season. You seem melancholy."

The omega prince's boldness caught him completely off guard. "Do I?"

"Truly. Do you wish to talk about it?"

"Autumn?" Richard definitely didn't intend to talk about being melancholy, which he wasn't.

Peter laughed. It was a delightful noise. Some heart somewhere would be set aflutter by the sound of that laughter. But not Richard's.

"No, how about we talk about the nine-hundred-pound wolf in the room we can all smell but are supposed to ignore because we're being such exquisite gentlemen?"

Richard couldn't help but smirk, his surprise growing with every word the omega prince spoke. "You speak your mind. I respect that."

Peter seemed vastly relieved. "Thank the Goddess. I've never been good at restraint unless it involves kindness. For example, I wouldn't tell you that I'm terrified of your father's reputation because that would be unkind." His eyes went wider. "Perhaps I shouldn't have said that, but if you are to hate me, we should establish that first thing."

"I don't hate you for speaking the truth." Yet, he still couldn't help but compare Peter to Justin. It would've taken Justin weeks before he was comfortable admitting what Peter had blurted out at the beginning of their first real conversation. "My father is very aware of what is said of him. He prefers to be feared instead of loved."

"I see." Peter brushed back a long lock of hair from his face. It was a surprisingly delicate, almost feminine movement. It made Richard think of Justin. The way Richard had brushed Justin's hair back tenderly and touched his face, a gesture he always found so intimate. Touching Justin's lips. That had also been intimate—always a turn-on.

Richard retreated behind a sip of wine, looking at the wavering candle flames. All the charm and wit he'd displayed so easily when meeting Justin and bringing him into Richard's world seemed to have fled him now. His wolf stood in his mind, watching the omega, not as an enemy, but not as a lover either. Definitely not as his mate.

"I was told what happened, my prince." Peter's voice was soft and understanding. His scent held sympathy. Again, it was unexpected…and appreciated. "I know this is difficult for you—"

"And what about you? It must be difficult for you as well."

"This is a great honor for my pack and my family. I am blessed by the Goddess to have this chance to unite our packs and make us stronger."

Richard leaned back in his chair, his eyes on the omega. "Now tell me how you really feel. Without the political-speak we've been trained to parrot."

For a moment, the omega prince appeared shocked. Then a wide, delighted smile crossed his face.

"My, my. This certainly got interesting fast." Peter set aside his wine glass and rested his elbow on the table, his fist supporting his chin as he peered at Richard. "I promise to be honest if you'll be honest with me. Do we have a deal?"

"We do."

"Delightful. Now, how do I really feel? Hmm. I'm frantically excited and utterly terrified."

That made Richard smile. It also reminded him so much of Justin that he physically ached. "You hide it well."

"Thank you. Years of coaching have finally paid off. Besides, an omega wolf has to grow up fast."

"You don't need to fear me."

"Said the wolf to the lamb." Peter smiled, but the smile didn't quite light up his eyes this time. "But I know I can make a fine royal consort and a strong mate for you, even though physically, I'm an omega."

"Again, you need not worry. I like omegas. I know they have hidden strength."

Peter blinked at him, frowning, suddenly hesitant. "I have been told, extensively, that you were once mated to another that you loved deeply." He cocked his head to the side, and vulnerability slipped into those bold eyes. "Will you hate me for replacing him?"

"How could I hate you for doing your duty?"

"Duty? Now who is guilty of parroting?"

Richard chuckled, despite himself. "Fair enough. To be honest, I'm left with a great many unsettling questions these days."

"Me too. This offer came as a surprise to my father. He was waiting on our majinette dreamer to have a vision of my mate before betrothing me. There was great concern at court that no mate dream had yet taken place. Everyone believed I was going to be an old maid."

"What did your majinette say about the two of us mated?"

"He said—" Peter dropped his voice deeper in parody. "‘—the Goddess wills it, thus it shall be so.'"

"One would've thought the Goddess might have sent a message to both majinettes prior to this. To get the story straight, in other words."

"Ooh. Sacrilege. I'm shocked," Peter quipped, sounding anything but outraged. "Not that what we wish changes anything. I suppose I should say something about faith here."

Richard decided he rather liked this omega wolf. He did not compare to Justin, of course, but Peter would make an interesting friend.

"My father is deeply committed to this marriage," Richard said, remembering the vow he'd sworn to stop thinking of Justin and see this through. The first part might remain impossible, but he would keep his word and do the second. "What do your parents think of our betrothal?"

"They are quite enormously pleased," Peter answered cheerfully. "It removes me as heir to the Rainier Pack. That honor now goes to my younger brother, who is not an omega and does not prefer the comforts of men. That you are the heir apparent to a respected pack, unwed, and also enjoy the delights of males is like a blessing from the heavenly fields. It's understandable that they pounced on the offer immediately."

Richard let out a long breath. Moments ago, he'd been struggling to make small talk. Peter had obliterated the chance of small talk, and now this conversation, their first ever, had grown unexpectedly heavy.

"I suppose it does seem fortuitous in a way," he admitted carefully.

"In a way, it does. The Rainier Pack is less than sixty years old. We fret about our bona fides, our legitimacy. Our noble bloodline. Shipping and trade from Seattle have made us wealthy and powerful, but we are very prickly about being perceived as up-jumped nouveau riche."

"So this marriage alliance will raise your pack's influence."

"Our influence. Our esteem. Our authority. To my parents, it really does seem like a blessing from the Goddess."

"And to you?"

Peter looked away, brushing another strand of hair back and looping it behind his ear. His scent was suddenly shy. "You're a handsome man. You smell kind enough. I could do far worse."

The omega's words touched him. Yet, unfair as it was, they still didn't alter his lingering feelings for Justin.

Peter glanced at him furtively as if to gauge how his words had been taken. He seemed to read something in Richard's eyes or his scent because he quickly looked away at the city lights again. He suddenly seemed wistful and sad.

"I'm sorry," Richard said softly. "This is difficult for me."

Even admitting aloud that he was having difficulty was revealing weakness, showing his underbelly. He'd been taught to only ever show strength. His father would not approve.

"You miss him," Peter said quietly, still not looking at him. At least the omega's wistful sadness seemed to have faded a little after Richard's admission.

"I miss him."

"How long were you together? I mean before they said the Goddess had someone else for you?"

"Before they told me our majinette dreamer betrayed our pack and served the Devil She-Wolf? Almost eight months."

"This is going to make me cry." Peter downed the rest of his wine. One of the servants who had been keeping a respectful distance hurried over to pour for him.

Peter thanked the servant. Richard also thanked the man, asked him to leave the bottle, and dismissed both servants for the night. It was a measure of how distracted and unsettled he was that he hadn't dismissed the servants before now, especially given how frank the conversation had been.

When they were alone on the balcony, they fell into another weighty but uncomfortable silence, as if the interruption had drained the momentum of their conversation. Richard knew he shouldn't be so quick to trust this omega, a prince from another pack, and yet Peter Rainier had a very disarming nature about him. It helped that he seemed so willing to speak freely after testing the waters.

Richard had no idea what turn the conversation would take from here. His mind knew he should be grateful that Peter Rainier wasn't an arrogant, shallow, selfish snob—things Richard had seen often enough among his noble brethren. He briefly entertained the idea that omega wolves were simply different in some core way. Perhaps their life experiences changed them so that, whether commoner or noble, they showed more empathy.

Or perhaps Richard was reading far too much into this conversation, trying to reforge Peter into someone more like Justin, which wouldn't be fair for either of them.

"Do you still dream about him?" Peter suddenly asked.

The question caught him off guard. "That's a very personal question, isn't it?"

"Yes, I suppose it is. I've never been a very private person. Where I'm from, everyone seems to know everything about me, even if they are wrong."

"I've always valued what little privacy I have."

"Understandable. As princes, we don't have much, so it is valuable." Peter cupped his chin in his hand, his wide eyes glittering in the candlelight. "Does that mean you don't want to answer my question? I won't be offended if you don't."

He poured himself some more wine to do something with his hands while he considered what to admit and what to hide. "I do dream of him. Does it upset you, knowing that?"

"No. This isn't about me. Not right now, anyway."

Richard frowned. "I don't understand. It's very much about you. About both of us."

"Hmm. You're right, but you're also wrong. I'm here because that's where I'm meant to be. I've been groomed for this role my entire life. But you're the one who has lost someone and is still grieving."

"Is it that obvious?" He felt guilt, bitter and sharp. He shifted uncomfortably.

"My prince, it is that obvious."

"I'm sorry," Richard said. "You deserve better."

"I'd be happy if I simply found a man I can trust." Peter's smile was wistful. Then he waved a hand as if dismissing all of that. "Will you not speak of him? This doesn't have to be a chasm between us."

"I would be a very poor host were I to do so."

"Nonsense. I'm not a delicate flower that withers when things grow a little fraught." He lifted his chin slightly as if daring Richard to disagree. He did not. The omega prince was full of surprises. "I'm told he was an omega as well. Do you think I'd like him? What am I saying? Of course I'd like him."

"He wasn't nobility."

"Alas, we can't all be stuck-up, perfidious pricks, now can we?"

Richard found himself gaping at the omega.

"Oh, were you expecting me to say something catty and arrogant about commoners?" Peter asked innocently. "I can be among the cattiest, but only when picking on other nobles—especially the ones who would love to eat me alive if I didn't happen to be the firstborn son of the alpha."

"No cattiness is necessary, but I'll keep that talent in mind." Especially as Richard had been known to make a snide comment or two himself, almost always to his father in some capacity.

Peter grinned. "So, what happens now, Prince Richard?"

The question made him wary. "We will be betrothed and will marry, as is our duty."

"Duty. So overwhelmingly romantic."

The teasing rubbed Richard's fur the wrong way, likely because he felt the same. And yet, he found himself trying to justify what was to happen. It was an uncomfortable place for him to be. "The Goddess—"

"Yes, I know," Peter interrupted. "The Goddess will choose our mates, according to Her will." He sighed as if disappointed.

"You don't believe?"

"Something true doesn't require my belief for it to stay true." Peter shook his head and looked down at his hands. "We can be happy, Richard. I know this is most likely politics driving us together. And I know it's not fair to you. I'm sorry. But as my father never tires of reminding me: royals aren't like other people. And that's both good…and bad."

"That sounds like something my father might say."

"They're both kings. Maybe that's the problem. But I mean it. I can be good to you. I can give you children. They will bring us together."

Damn it. It wasn't fair to constantly compare Peter to Justin, but Richard knew he would be doing exactly that, consciously and subconsciously, for a long time. Yet, he had given his father his word. He had his duty, and the Goddess had picked this omega as his mate. His path was clear.

Richard reached across the table, placed his hand over Peter's hand, and looked him in the eye. "You're right. We'll make it work."

Peter smiled.