"Anything you say to me, you can say to them." Calder stands his ground.
Tyler and Julian shift closer to me, an unconscious protective position that I'm certain Margaret notices.
Margaret notices everything.
"How... modern." She looks at her husband. "Robert?"
Robert Ashford clears his throat. "Son, perhaps we could find somewhere quiet to talk? I'm sure your... packmates wouldn't mind giving us a moment."
"They would, actually," Tyler says pleasantly. "We're kind of a package deal."
Margaret's attention shifts to him, then Julian, then back to me. I watch her do the math, three alphas, one omega, completely backwards from every traditional arrangement she values.
"I see." She turns to Victoria, who still hasn't said a word. "Well. This is certainly unexpected. Victoria, dear, perhaps you'd like to see more of the campus while we sort this out?"
"I'd rather stay," Victoria says quietly. Then, even quieter: "If that's alright."
Margaret's lips purse, but she nods. "Very well. Shall we at least sit?"
We end up at a picnic table slightly removed from the main quad but still visible to passing students. I'm hyperaware of people noticing Calder Ashford's obviously wealthy parents meeting his obviously unconventional pack. This will be all over campus by dinner.
Margaret arranges herself on the bench like she's hosting a board meeting. Robert sits beside her, solid and assessing. Victoria perches on the edge, hands folded in her lap with the kind of perfect posture that comes from years of training.
We sit across from them, Calder in the middle, me on his right, Tyler and Julian flanking. Pack formation even in picnic table arrangements.
"Calder," Margaret begins, voice carefully controlled. "We discussed this. When you came home for summer break, we talked about your future. About Victoria. Her family is?—"
"—is very nice, I'm sure," Calder interrupts. "But I'm not interested in an arranged match, Mother. I thought I made that clear."
"You said you needed time to think." Margaret's smile doesn't reach her eyes. "I assumed you'd reach a sensible conclusion. The Winters family is perfectly positioned, Victoria's been trained at Maidenhill, she's?—"
"Mrs. Ashford, please…" Victoria starts.
Margaret continues as if she hasn't spoken. "Three alphas?" She looks at me, then the others. "That's highly irregular. The Ashford name requires?—"
"The Ashford name is mine to do with as I choose." Calder's voice stays level but there's steel underneath. "And I choose them."
Robert leans forward slightly. "Son, we're not trying to control you. We just want you to think carefully about this. Multi-alpha packs are... complicated. Statistically?—"
"Statistically," Julian interrupts smoothly, "multi-alpha packs show higher stability rates when formed through mutual choice rather than traditional hierarchy. The research is quite clear on consent-based pack dynamics."
Robert blinks. Margaret looks like she's tasted something sour.
"And who exactly are you?" Margaret asks, tone implying she already knows the answer won't impress her.
"Julian Cross. Research focus on pack dynamics and consent theory." He meets her gaze steadily. "Statistically speaking, attempting to force an unwanted match typically results in pack fracture within five years."
The reference to pack fracture makes Calder tense beside me. I squeeze his hand.
Margaret's attention finally lands fully on me. I feel the weight of her assessment, my simple clothes, my lack of jewelry except for Grandmother's ring, my complete absence of the polish Victoria radiates.
"And you are the omega in this...arrangement."
"My name is Elowen." I keep my voice steady. "Not 'the omega’. And this isn't an arrangement. We chose each other."
"Rowan, you said?" Margaret's tone suggests she's trying to place me in whatever social hierarchy she maintains. "Is that a local family?"
Translation: Are you somebody?
