As he sat down to dinner, Wyatt’s absence felt like a void he couldn’t ignore.
Raph looked around the elaborate dining room—the floor-length curtains by the tall glass windows, the intricate table settings prepared for five, the chandelier hanging above them all, like a sword waiting to fall. The finery wasn’t important. And the people who were present—Mom, Dad, Penny, Grandma—they had grown used to Wyatt not being here.
Despite spending the last three weekends with Wyatt, Raph missed him. He always had, through the years. But that had been a slow, lingering burn. Now that he knew Wyatt’s laugh again, and now that Wyatt had pressed himself to Raph’s chest, all vulnerable and soft, Raph missed him like a phantom limb. Was this what having a bondmate felt like?
And maybe that bonding had been for real. Maybe he’d somehow fallen in love with Wyatt, and he hadn’t realized it until now.
“Hey, Dad,” Raph said. Part of him wanted to add, What does it feel like to be a dad? Because I’m going to be one. “I watched your interview on TV—you mentioned us.”
Stan Fleming brightened, a smile spreading across his weathered face. As the police chief, he frequently stopped on the streets to chat with the townsfolk, but he also led his teams with a steady hand. He’d been on TV maybe five times, now. To Raph, he was still Dad. “You watched the interview, son?”
“Yeah, Penny called and told me about it. You weren’t serious about the auditions, were you?”
Dad laughed sheepishly. “You know, I did sign you all up for an audition. I missed seeing you kids play.”
Raph froze. And glanced at Penny. She was staring at Dad, her mouth open. “An actual audition? You could’ve told us earlier, Dad!”
“I wanted it to be a surprise!” Chief Fleming said, chuckling. “I just figured... With all those children in the orphanages, you wouldn’t mind playing for them, would you?”
“Wyatt isn’t even here,” Penny said, frowning. “He’s busy, you know.”
Dad’s smile faded. He glanced around the table at the empty seats, wistful. And maybe Raph wasn’t the only one who missed his stepbrother. “I wish he were free in the evenings. Or even if he dropped off Hazel—that would be nice.”
“We’re doing very well here.” Grandma wrinkled her nose, disdain flashing through her eyes. “He can visit when he decides to.”
“I wish he hadn’t left when he was eighteen.” Mom sipped from her water glass, her shoulders sagging. “We’ve missed so many years with him. Hazel is such a dear—Wyatt said he had her by accident, didn’t he? You’d want to be careful, Penny, in case you’re just as fertile as he is.”
Penny blushed. And a ferocious heat surged through Raph’s chest. Wyatt had told his parents that Hazel was an accident? Because she wasn’t.
In the months after Wyatt left, Raph had searched for him through all of Meadowfall. Wyatt had been hiding away in the kitchens of small restaurants, washing dishes, and later prepping food as a line cook. Raph had tried to contact him. When he’d found out the news about Max, Raph had been too ashamed to face Wyatt as an alpha.
Max had told Wyatt that he was sick, that he needed to fuck an omega every night, or he’d get his balls twisted up. And Wyatt had listened, somehow. Then he’d discovered the pregnancy, and Max had taken all of Wyatt’s cash, and thrown Wyatt out his door.
And Wyatt’s parents acted like Hazel’s birth was some damn miracle.
Raph looked at the roast chicken on the table, the fluffy mashed potatoes. His appetite had vanished. Wyatt’s story wasn’t his to tell. He wasn’t going to mention it in front of Grandma; she didn’t have the right to gloat over Wyatt’s trauma.
He should correct his Mom and Dad, tell them the sort of shit Wyatt had been through. But Raph was the one who had driven him to that point; if he’d never kissed Wyatt, Grandma would never have found them. Raph was older. He should’ve known better. And yet... he hadn’t.
“Penny’s a right example of a proper omega,” Grandma said. Penny blushed more.
Raph stood, his stomach twisting, his pulse hammering in his ears. No such thing as proper or improper. Don’t you fucking dare judge Wy for that.
“Raph?” Mom asked.
Grandma looked at him shrewdly. Raph forced his lips into a smile; he was still paying the loans on his education. He owed Grandma so damn much, and he was tired of it. Tired of playing as her pawn.
“I just remembered I had some unfinished work,” he said, glancing at his phone. “Sorry. I’ll be back next week.”
“But the auditions,” Penny said.
Raph paused at the doorway, glancing between Penny, and Dad’s hopeful face. “Fine,” he said, relenting. “Pick a song.”
Then he left, and the night air had never felt so sweet on his face.
12
Raph
Waitresses skated out of the drive-in’s side door, arms full of loaded trays. Raph drove slowly through the parking lot, parked behind the diner, and stepped out of the car.
At the glass door, he paused, finding Wyatt easily at a table. His brother wore an easy smile on his lips, memorizing an order without writing it down. Raph slipped in, headed to the other side of the diner, where Hazel frowned at her math assignment. He slid into the booth across from her, and she looked up.
“Hey,” Raph said. “Busy night?”
“Yeah.” She peered over her shoulder, the tip of her pencil trailing across her homework. “Looks like it’s a full house. I told Dad I don’t mind going home, but he said it’s okay that I stay.”
Raph cracked a smile. She really was a sweet child. “You can concentrate with this noise?”
“What noise?” Hazel smiled back, her small teeth neat and white, like her dad’s. She’d grown used to the crowd’s murmur
