He’d never thought about it before, but with Harris and Valen, he was smiling a lot more these days. He felt better, more at ease. And maybe everything would be all right between them, if he gave it a chance.
23
Valen
“Hey, V,” Ken yelled while Valen was scrubbing down his favorite truck. “Chief wants to see you.”
“Got it. Thanks.” Valen winced, running his sponge over the truck’s fender. He saw himself in the chrome trimmings, scraped off a bug splatter with his nail. He didn’t have to head to his dad’s office immediately. But if he didn’t, his dad would probably yell at him again.
Valen sighed, rinsing the truck down. Then he shut off the water, threw his sponge in the pail, and headed upstairs.
Fred Tolstoy was never a nice man to deal with. Sure, he was great if you were a civilian and you wanted favors from him. He’d escort you across the road, put out a fire.
But at home? The fire chief used his strength without a second thought. Valen always remembered the times his parents had fought, all fists with each other. Still stayed with him, the memory of Mom and Dad with bruises on their faces. Maybe his mom had injured his dad more—he couldn’t remember at this point.
He knocked on the door, opened it without waiting for an answer.
Chief Tolstoy looked up, his eyebrows drawing low when their eyes met. He was a tall alpha, broad-shouldered like Valen, his hair graying. Fred Tolstoy was a couple years older than Harris, but Harris had aged more gracefully than Fred had. Valen didn’t miss the scars on the fire chief’s hands, the press of his thin lips.
“Valen,” Dad said. Valen hardly remembered him smiling at all.
“Dad. What’s up?”
“Heard you were in the hospital,” Dad said.
“That was a month ago.”
“I’ve been seeing to the station operations.” Dad shrugged, dismissive. “Any lasting damage?”
“No, sir.”
“Good.” Dad sat back in his seat, his face tired. “I wanted to discuss the department party with you.”
“What about it?”
“You got an omega? Rest of the guys have been wanting to bring theirs.”
It wasn’t really the rest of the guys—half the men at the station didn’t have partners. Valen guessed it was just something his dad chose to fixate on.
“Yeah,” he said when his dad glanced at the crook of his neck. “I have an omega.”
“You’ve bonded?” The chief’s gaze sharpened. His nostrils flared. Valen knew what he smelled—sandalwood, dahlia, honey. And also oak. “He’s pregnant?”
Valen’s stomach squeezed. Bear a child out of wedlock, and you’ll lose your inheritance, Dad had said. You’ll only get the disbursement from your grandmother if you marry. “Yeah. I’m marrying him.”
He had his heart set on it, anyway. No point losing all that inheritance if he was going to propose. Just had to get Sam to agree—Sam hadn’t been keen on it. As long as Dad didn’t know, it didn’t matter.
“When are you marrying?” Dad’s lip curled. “It better be soon.”
It’s not like your marriage with Mom held up, Valen wanted to say. And you went the whole nine yards, too. She’s got your mark on her neck and wrists. And you punched her.
“Later this year,” Valen said aloud. “We haven’t decided on a date yet.”
“No babies out of wedlock,” Dad said, his eyes narrowing. “That’s shameful.”
Valen wanted to growl. “It shouldn’t matter when we’re bonded, should it?”
“It matters. I expect to be invited to the wedding, and I expect the rest of the station there. Don’t put me in disgrace, Valen.”
Valen held his father’s gaze, his stomach turning.
Even if an omega could marry two alphas, it wasn’t a perfect bonding. In the movies, an omega had two alphas when he was cuckolding, or when one of them was infertile.
Valen’s marriage wasn’t something he wanted his dad to judge. Not his relationship with Sam, and especially not what he had with Harris. Valen wasn’t letting his dad think Harris was defective, or less.
There had been a time, long ago, when Valen had wanted his dad’s approval on everything. His exam results, his sports events at school. That had been when things had gone fine between Mom and Dad. At least, Valen had thought they’d been doing okay. Maybe he’d just never heard the fights.
Right now... he didn’t need his dad’s approval on the bonding. What happened between Sam and Harris and him was for Valen to decide.
“I’ll look into it,” Valen said. “We haven’t planned a venue, but it might be small. Maybe ten people.”
Hell, if Wyatt could have fifteen people at his wedding, Valen could go lower than that.
Dad narrowed his eyes. “I’ll pay for the venue. Make it the town hall.”
Valen glared. “It’s not your wedding, Dad. It’s mine. I get the final say.”
“You aren’t earning enough for a ceremony, are you?” Dad’s lips curled further. “I’m embarrassed you call yourself my son.”
Valen’s chest filled with angry heat. So maybe he’d been a stupid kid, failing to meet his father’s expectations. Maybe his dad was an idiot, expecting Valen to go to college like he himself had. It wasn’t like Valen couldn’t do shit. He’d save up for his own wedding. Hell, Harris could probably pay for a ceremony at the Highton’s poshest hotel, and have enough to spare.
“It’s none of your business,” Valen growled. “‘Sides, Har—Besides, we don’t... don’t need a big ceremony.”
Then Valen shut up, his heart pounding. Almost dropped Harris’ name. Didn’t need his dad catching on.
The fire chief narrowed his eyes. “We’ll see. But by the time the baby’s born, you’d better be wedded.”
“It’s not like you’re married. You don’t even know where Mom is right now,” Valen snapped. Couldn’t stop himself. “Don’t use me to cover up your failures.”
Dad stood, tall and imposing, his eyes flashing.
Valen held his breath. Expected to be hauled in, punched hard in the ear. As much as he fought with Harris, Harris hadn’t actually hurt him. Not like Dad had.
“If that’s all you wanted to talk
