It occurred to him, suddenly, that maybe things weren’t as much of a secret as he’d thought they were. Not if his mom knew what to look out for. Like an omega’s honey scent. Like that new bonding mark on Wyatt’s neck. His stomach lurched.
It was only when Mom locked the door of the viola room, turning to him, that Raph breathed out, closing his eyes. This room was a safe space. “How much do you know?”
“Some. Enough to make guesses with.”
The viola room was half the size of his father’s study, with glass cases on each side, and a climate control device built into each case. Raph almost wanted to say, If you’d saved up your money to buy a house instead of your violas, you wouldn’t have to live under Grandma’s roof.
But who was he to judge?
Mom stopped by a cabinet in the middle, pulling a wood-framed door open. Within, a viola stood on its pedestal, its polish gleaming under the accent lighting. Raph remembered that instrument; he’d learned to play on it. Still remembered the pressure of metal strings on his fingertips.
“I started playing again,” Raph blurted, rubbing his fingers. “Wy and I have been practicing for the audition. We’ve got Hazel in for the vocals—she’s good at remembering melodies.”
Mom’s eyebrows rose. “I’ve never heard you talk about Wyatt. Not in recent years.”
Raph stared at the curled feet of the viola’s pedestal, his pulse skipping. “I guess I haven’t.”
“Is there something you’d like to tell me?”
He swallowed. When he glanced at her, her eyes were soft, patient, and Raph didn’t have the heart to bring her pain. So he asked, “What’s it like to be a mom? Or a parent.”
Tanya sighed, looking at the viola, too. “Difficult. It’s a blessing sometimes, watching your children grow. And sometimes it’s painful, when you know your babies are hurting, but you can’t take away their pain.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you,” he said.
She chuckled. “I’ll stop hurting when you do. There’s nothing to apologize for, Raph.”
“But...” He thought about Hazel, and the unborn baby in Wyatt’s belly. There was only moving forward with Wyatt, no going back—he’d already made his choice. “But what if the hurt doesn’t stop?”
Mom raised an eyebrow, her lips curving up. “My previous alpha left me with two young children. There’s very little that’ll hurt more than that.”
“Even if—” His heart thudded. She had to know about him and Wyatt somehow. She’d never mentioned Wyatt’s scent on him, even when Grandma had. And the truth felt like a rock on his tongue, heavy and jagged. Raph breathed out. Counted the strings on the viola. “I love Wyatt. Not in the way I should.”
Just like Wyatt had in front of Penny, Raph’s cheeks burned. He followed the curves of the pedestal’s foot. Then the other foot. Then he chanced a look at his mom, his heart scrabbling against his chest.
She smiled a bittersweet smile. “I thought you might.”
“That’s it?” He stared, thinking she might frown, or swear, or... something. Not shrug and glance at him.
“We love the people we love, Raph. I doubt you’d stop loving him just because I said you can’t.”
“Yeah, no. That won’t happen.” He chuckled mirthlessly, rubbing his neck. “You knew?”
“I had my suspicions,” Mom said. She spread her arms, inviting a hug. “You might not have noticed, but I’d seen the way Wyatt looked at you. Gods, that was a long time ago, wasn’t it?”
“It was.” The boulder on his shoulders eased a little. Raph stepped into her arms. Pulled her smaller body close, breathing in her chrysanthemum scent. This, at least, was easier than it had gone with Penny. “Sorry we never told you.”
“When’s he due?”
“February.”
“Another six months, then?” Mom sighed, leaning into him. “I would love to see the baby when it’s born,” she murmured. “Please don’t wait until it’s three years old, like Wyatt did with Hazel.”
Raph froze. “I thought he’d been living in Meadowfall this whole time.”
“He never wanted to see us.” Mom shrugged, her smile falling away, leaving behind wrinkles and a weariness that Raph wished he could erase. “We hardly glimpsed him in those years.”
How had Wyatt even managed, with a newborn and all his jobs? Or had he just been accumulating debts, and paying them off later? How long had Wyatt been hurting by himself?
“I should’ve been there for him,” Raph said. What kind of alpha had he been, hiding when Wyatt needed help? He felt sick then, disgusted with himself.
“You are now,” Mom said. “Don’t let that go to waste.”
“Yeah.” Raph pulled away from her, needing to return to his omega. “You don’t—don’t mind that we’re brothers?”
“I’ve had years to get used to the idea, Raph. This isn’t news to me.” Mom shrugged, the corners of her lips lifting up. “Besides, you may be my son, but you’re still not of my blood.”
He could’ve laughed, then. All that worrying, and Mom had known all along. “I don’t know what to do about Dad. I don’t think the townsfolk would be happy. I don’t... I can’t put my family through that crap.”
And my family sounded good, too. Wyatt was his family. So were Hazel and the baby. I’m really going to be a dad.
“I’m not sure what your dad will think.” Mom winced. “The news wouldn’t be good for him, no.”
The sinking feeling came back, nagging in his chest. “Are you going to tell him?”
“You should be the one.” Mom squeezed his shoulder. “It’s not my news to share.”
Raph sighed. “If Grandma hears, will she kick you and Dad out?”
Mom lifted her chin then, her eyes narrowing. “Your dad and I will manage. We’ve been around a while, Raph. Don’t worry about us.”
But the fact remained that they could put Dad’s reputation in peril. Grandma could destroy their lives. If Raph pursued this relationship... he would hurt their parents. If he didn’t pursue it, he would hurt Wyatt, and
