Page 13 of His Forsaken Alpha

There had been no mating contract negotiations with Avery’s parents, which they’d disapproved of, only adding further animosity—yet Wynter had only sought to protect his son. Later, Wynter had learned that the omega’s parents were deceased, which had been the reason behind Avery’s choices that had led to prison in the first place.

Avery had been resourceful and strong. He’d chosen to work and earn for himself and his brothers instead of relying on an alpha, which had been illegal for an omega to do. It was commendable, and Wynter hoped to get a moment alone with his son’s omega to tell him just that, in private.

Perhaps they could start off on another foot. Given the fact that Avery was already very pregnant with Wilder’s first child, he wanted to amend that relationship as quickly as possible. He’d already lost the chance to repair a bond with one son and lost two grandchildren in the ensuing fight.

He wouldn’t lose a another.

Jamie.

Wynter fought the tears that burned the backs of his eyes. He had no right to cry when he’d had opportunity after opportunity to make things right over the years and failed—though his last chance had been robbed. A knock sounded on his bedroom door, breaking his maudlin thoughts. It swept open. Warden stood on the other side in his tuxedo, his nose wrinkled, and lips curled into a snarl. How often had Wynter heard comments on how handsome Warden was? He didn’t see it. All he saw were the flaws and ugliness.

“Ready to get on with this farce?”

Wynter frowned.“Farce?”

“Our boywas forced into a mating by an omega in heat.” Warden lifted a brow. “History repeats itself once again.”

Wynter turned his gaze away and clenched his jaw. His sons had gotten what he’d not, and he wouldn’t allow Warden to diminish that. “They’re fated mates.”

“Supposedly. But we both know there are illicit medications that can replicate the mating call in an alpha. This Avery fellow already purchased illegal scent and heat maskers. Who knows what else he might’ve gotten his hands on? Legality and morality are clearly not of concern for him, so why would you believe the pair are true?Idon’t.”

“When Wilder called to invite us, he seemed happy,” Wynter murmured. “If he’s happy, then why bother fighting it? I raise concerns—legitimate concerns—and I’m told to keep my opinions to myself, so I shall. I’m tired of fighting against our children, Warden.”

“You don’t want to lose the chance to know your grandson, that’s all this is—your willingness to condone this mating.”

“And if it is?” Wynter spun to face Warden. “We’ve already lost any connection to Jamie’s children. I won’t lose another.”

“I don’t know how many times I need to say this, but those arenotour grandchildren. They’re born to a surrogate. They’re not Jamie’s.” Warden shoved both hands into his pockets and widened his stance, as if ready to fight. “I still can’t believe you thought to raise those bastards yourself.”

Warden might as well have slammed a knife into his chest. Wynter had mishandledthatwhole situation, as well. In his grief, he’d lost a little of his sanity and imagined himself the children’s salvation. “Well, since you feel the need to rehashthis old argument, so be it. We both know Rohan wasn’t in any shape to raise those babes and I’d assumed the worst of Gray’s relationship with Rohan. I wastryingto do right by Jamie.”

“And failed,”Warden added, grinning widely. “When have you actually won?”

“Oh, how you like to twist that knife, but what have you done that’s been any better than my many failures, my alpha?”

“I provided for our children and handed them a profitable legacy in which to provide for their own children.”

“But have you ever told them that you loved them? Shown it in any way?”

Warden scoffed. “Unlike you, sentimentality isn’t my concern.” He narrowed his eyes. “Youhavetaken your pill today, haven’t you? I don’t need a scene like the one at the funeral.”

Wynter glared. “Yes. I’mmedicated.As I wasthatday.”

“Or so you claim.”

Wynter didn’t admit that he’d takentwopills that day. He’d not been sure he’d be able to make it otherwise.

Warden eyed his watch. “Let’s go. The sooner we can get there, the sooner we can leave.”

Wynter crossed the bedroom and exited, careful not to brush against Warden. He traipsed toward the stairs, Warden quickly falling into step beside him. “Do you have the gift?”

Warden patted his chest pocket. “Right here.”

“What happened to the vase I had delivered?”

“Broken,” Warden muttered. “Cash is better anyway.”

“I had that shipped from Europa, you dolt,” Wynter snapped. “It was in one piece when it arrived.”

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