Page 15 of Red River

"I know. Igor’s guardianship. Please submit my name to Family Services and send me the link to the form. I’ll verify it with my electronic signature."

River took a deep breath of relief. I felt very pleased with how the conversation was unfolding.

"If you need any financial support for the move, don’t hesitate to ask, River. I’ll transfer money to your account."

"I really appreciate all of this, Archer. We have a few things to wrap up here first. I think we’ll be at your place in about two weeks," he replied quietly.

"No problem. Let’s stay in touch. If anything comes up, feel free to call me anytime."

"Thank you so, so much…"

RIVER

My whole body was shaking as I hung up the phone. That conversation didn’t go the way I expected, but in some ways, it went exactly as it was supposed to.

On some deep level, I felt like something significant had just happened—something almost written in the stars since Archer proposed to me when he was six—however absurd that sounded.

Many would laugh or scoff, wondering how anyone could take a child’s words that seriously. But it was an incredible feeling, truly unparalleled.

Though I’d only met Archer a few times, each encounter was memorable. Even during those brief meetings, I could sense his unique, strong, and dominant energy.

Added to that was what Sam sometimes said about him—half-jokingly, half-seriously. I never asked for any updates directly because I didn’t want to stir up those strange feelings from that one inappropriate kiss long ago. But I always listened, with great—though hidden—interest, to whatever Sam had to say regarding his brother.

Sam wasn’t always kind when gossiping about Archer. Sometimes, he complained that the young alpha had inherited their father’s rigid, traditional, and conservative views on relationships, which annoyed Sam. I never voiced my thoughts because I knew he would scold me, but secretly, I sharedArcher’s outlook on the subject. I believed in roles within a relationship, and I liked that I had that with Thomas—at least at first. But then he got sick… and just stopped being the leader I wanted him to be.

Knowing Archer felt the same way sent a pleasant shiver through me, though I kept it to myself.

Archer was exactly how I imagined he’d be after all these years: surefooted, just as he had been even as a teen. His confidence always surprised me, being the opposite of how I was.

What he said on the phone left me in shock. I couldn’t quite grasp what I was feeling—wild, crazy excitement mixed with nervousness!

Before the call, I had envisioned a safe and simple scenario: he would say, "Sure, River, I’ll help you with your problem. Come stay with me until you get back on your feet."Nothing would be said about the past. It would be a kind gesture because his brother and I were close friends. I’d take the time to sort out my life, and then we’d go our separate ways again.

But Archer played out a completely different scenario. He acted as if no years had passed, as if what transpired seven years ago had happened just yesterday.

For many omegas, such ostentatious, dominant energy would be overwhelming, threatening their independence. But it was exactly what I needed in my chaotic life. Archer was a stable, successful young man making a good living—something that set him apart from Thomas, who was sinking one business after another.

I also knew from Sam that Archer had had a few relationships with omegas during college, but Sam never provided details on what happened or why they ended.

Now, my thoughts were spinning like a carousel… What exactly had I agreed to?

He asked,"Are you ready to be mine?"and I said I would be. Did he want me only in his bed, or did he want me as his partner—his omega?

Despite our age difference, he still thought about me? After all these years? I wasn’t the twenty-year-old head-turner anymore. What if he was disappointed when he saw me? The whole thing felt unreal. Madness!

I stared at Sam’s phone screen, kind of frozen. His family was on the wallpaper, his son Steve and his husband Stephen; his dark eyes seemed to be looking back at me almost scoldingly. Or maybe it just felt that way—because I was scolding myself, and hard for that matter.

Weakly, I tried to pull myself together, but waves of heat rolled through me, way too strong to stop. I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall, not fully understanding it, but some strange, twisted part of me felt this sick, intense excitement at the thought of being under the same roof as a dominant alpha—of surrendering to him, submitting, spreading my legs for him. A treacherous rush of heat pooled in my lower stomach, and my whole body seemed to vibrate.

I hadn’t felt anything like that in years—not since Thomas had his first heart attack, a few days after Lake was born seven years ago. Our sex life had ended after that. As his health declined further, intimacy became a distant memory.

But we never had a vibrant sex life to begin with. Thomas’s libido was below average, and he was rather reserved in bed. From the beginning, he treated me like I was made of glass, almost afraid to touch me.

Our first time didn’t even happen within the first six months of living together—only after our wedding. But even then, it was so shy and careful, as ifhewere the virgin, not me.

Throughout all the years of our marriage, I was the one initiating intimacy, Thomas rarely did. And when he startedgaining weight—soon after Van was born—it became sporadic. Following Lake’s birth, it ceased completely.

Taking a deep breath, I fought against my rising blood pressure and my galloping heart.

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