Page 17 of Red River

Then there was the troublemaker, Igor, the fifteen-year-old alpha. Sam told me Igor had thrown a full-blown fit when he found out about moving into my house.

If Stephen hadn't stepped in, it could have ended badly. Evidently, Igor remembered me from when he was just a kid, and had labeled mean arrogant jerk.Now, he was doing everything he could to talk River out of the move.

Interestingly, Sam also mentioned that Igor hadn’t been a difficult child before. He was helpful with household chores and a good student, though he had been heavily influenced by Thomas.

There was also one thing that had recently changed.

A few months ago, he started making funny videos and video challenges for social media—the crazy kind where you swallow Mentos with Coke or stick your hand into a wasp’s nest. He even sprained his ankle once while trying to jump over a concrete channel during an amateur parkour rivalry incident.

After Thomas scolded him, he promised to avoid more dangerous stunts, but he continued taking on smaller challenges and had gained a substantial social media following.

River’s third son, Van, was twelve and a half. Named after River’s uncle, he was supposedly the quietest and most introverted of the brothers. His sub-gender hadn’t manifested yet, though Sam suspected he might be a beta. Van’s passion was rock climbing, especially bouldering. While he didn’t mind the move, he was understandably nervous about starting at a new school in the middle of the semester and meeting unfamiliar kids.

The two youngest, however, were reportedly the most excited about coming to my house. They probably saw it as an adventure and a chance to escape the sadness of their home, which was full of memories of Thomas.

Aiden, River’s fourth son, was nine years old. Sam described him as lively and determined. He loved building with Lego, playing with Little Handyman sets, and watching superhero movies—Spider-Man and Superman were his favorites.

The youngest, seven-year-old Lake, was strongly suspected by Sam of growing up to be an omega. He was into cartoons, especiallyOmegaCat,and loved drawing. He was also trying to teach himself to play the keyboard. Sam described him as an adorable but slightly peculiar kid, with the early signs of a very independent personality, who knew exactly what he wanted.

Over the next week, I threw myself into preparing and furnishing the rooms, trying to match each kid’s age andinterests. I picked out new curtains, colorful furniture sets, fun wall murals, and even new bedding, hoping to make them feel at home as soon as they arrived.

Of course, I set up a room for River… right next to mine. For some reason, I found myself putting the most effort into his space. I replaced almost everything—new carpets, wardrobes, and even a vanity table, though I wasn’t sure if River was the type to spend time in front of the mirror. Still, I wanted him to feel happy and comfortable.

I also bought him a brand-new laptop. Sam had mentioned that his had broken down a month ago, and River had been borrowing Igor’s for work. That didn’t sit right with me, so I made sure he’d have his own again.

And, of course, the house got a deep clean from top to bottom, attic to basement. Oliver, the middle-aged beta I employed, helped me scrub it spotless. I also promised him a raise to stick around and handle cooking for a big family, which would help take that responsibility off River’s shoulders. I didn’t want him to feel like he had to manage meals and housework during such a stressful transition. He deserved a break.

RIVER

When the car stopped in front of Archer’s house, my heart was pounding like crazy. I glanced at my kids, still asleep, worn out from the long journey. The truck driver, a gray-haired beta, looked at me as if he wanted to say something, but I put my finger to my lips, signaling that I didn’t want to wake the boys just yet.

Archer’s residence was even bigger than I had imagined. It was a massive modern mansion, the kind you’d see in an architectural magazine.

His uncle, a former head of research at Malden Pharmaceuticals and a shareholder in a network of profitable plastic surgery clinics, had built this house for retirement, but he hadn’t lived long enough to enjoy it. The property eventually passed to Archer.

The front of the house was surrounded by a sprawling lawn dotted with a few elegant ornamental plants. The driveway was wide enough to accommodate the truck, which fit entirely on it. The engine noise must have alerted Archer because, moments later, the front door opened, and a massive figure stepped outside.

Before I could think twice, I practically launched myself out of the truck cabin. My heart was racing fast, as I headed toward Archer, nervously wiping my sweaty hands on my pants.

Wow—he’d grown even more since I last saw him as a teen.

The young man stood an impressive seven feet tall, towering over me like a skyscraper.

I hadn’t inherited height from my parents. My paternal grandfather was short, and clearly, I took after him with my measly 5’4". Next to Archer, I felt like a dwarf.

He’d transformed into an intimidating alpha. I knew he was a martial artist, and my God, it showed. His enormous muscles strained against the fabric of his tight T-shirt, making it clear just how powerful he was. His face was sharp and masculine, and there was something about him I hadn’t quite noticed before—a certain resemblance to a… young Thomas!

Wow. I’d read about the concept of imprints—people who bore a striking similarity to a person’s True Mate. They were often High or Half Mates. I knew my father had once had another husband who resembled my dad.

Thomas had been manly and very handsome in his prime, before his health had started to fail. Like him, Archer had dark blonde hair, cut short, and strikingly intense blue eyes. But Archer was significantly taller—Thomas had been 6’5", a good height, but still no match for Archer’s towering frame.

My knees felt like jelly as I walked toward him.

Still, I forced myself to look presentable. I plastered on a strained smile and said, "Hey, Archer."

"Hey, River," he replied, and his voice was sooo low! Oh my God—it sounded even more sensual than it had over the phone.

His gaze swept over me, and I felt a sharp pang of anxiety. He must have noticed how much I’d aged.

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