"What was he like?" I ask, not just making conversation, but actually wanting to know, because anyone who helped raise a man like Raff, has to be pretty amazing.
Odette lets out a soft sigh as she looks out at the shop floor for a moment, and something moves behind her gray eyes.
"Stubborn," she says finally. "Impossibly, infuriatingly stubborn." She smiles at the word like it's a compliment, which I think it is. "He was about Adam's height. Slight through the frame, though." She glances at me. "He was an omega."
I blink. "Sal was an omega?"
"Don't look so surprised," she says, and her smile grows. "Male omegas exist. They're very good at being overlooked." Her jaw firms slightly. "Which suited Sal fine, most of the time. Nobody expected much from a male omega, which meant nobody got in his way." She looks back at the shop. "This place had been in his family for three generations. His grandfather built it. His father ran it. And when it came time, Sal ran it too, and god help anyone who suggested he shouldn't."
"Because he was an omega?" I ask quietly.
"Because he was an omega," she confirms. "But Sal didn't take shit from anyone. Alpha, beta, didn't matter." She picks up my coffee one more time. "He was the most dominant omega I've ever known, and I mean that as the highest possible compliment."
"Did you have a pack?" I ask. "You and Sal?"
Odette shakes her head slowly. "Just the two of us," she says. "Which was unusual even then, but we were happy with it." She hands my mug back to me. "Things were different when Sal and I were young. Omegas weren't confiscated from their families the second they presented. They had more freedom. More say in their own lives." Her expression darkens slightly at the edges. "It wasn't perfect by any stretch, but it was better than what it is now."
"And male omegas?" I ask.
"Seen as less than," she says flatly. "Always have been. A male omega was considered defective in some circles. Like the biology had gone wrong somewhere." Her jaw tightens. "Which is utter bullshit, but it had one useful side effect."
"Nobody bothered them," I say, understanding.
"Nobody bothered them," she confirms. "An alpha looking to acquire an omega wasn't interested in a male one. So Sal moved through the world largely unbothered, which was exactly how he liked it." She looks at me with those sharp gray eyes. "He used to say that being underestimated was the greatest gift the world ever gave him."
I think about my parents.
About the pharmacy I sold, the false bottom drawer in my old apartment, and three years of hiding in plain sight.
"I understand that," I say quietly.
Odette looks at me for a long moment, and whatever she finds on my face makes her reach over and pat my handonce.
"I know you do, sweetheart," she says. "Omegas are good for alphas." She shifts slightly as she crosses her arms. "People forget that. They get so caught up in the biology and the politics and what omegas are supposed to be that they forget what they actually do." She nods toward Raff, who said something that's making Perrin laugh despite clearly trying not to. "His father used to smile like that, and I haven't seen it on Raff in a long time."
I look at them.
Perrin is standing in front of Raff, shop towel in hand, talking with his hands as he tells some kind of story. Raff has moved into his space, close enough that there's barely a breath between them, one hand resting on the Camaro behind Perrin's shoulder, his head bent slightly toward him like whatever Perrin is saying is the most interesting thing he's heard all day.
Perrin's face is animated and bright, and every few seconds he glances up at Raff with an expression that makes it abundantly clear he is absolutely delighted to have that much of the alpha's attention focused entirely on him.
I think about this morning in the sunroom. Perrin’s pink ears and his careful hands and the way he kissed me like he meant every single second of it.
I look away before I get too emotional about it.
"Yeah," Odette continues as she watches them too. "Alphas need something real to tend to and protect. It gives them somewhere to put all that." She waves her hand vaguely in the direction of the shop floor. "Energy."
"And omegas?" I ask. "What do we get out of it?"
Odette looks at me like the answer is obvious. "A family," she says simply.
A family.
I haven’t thought about one day having a family of my own. I’ve never allowed myself to even consider it.
I'm still sitting with the thought when Raff says, "Can I help you?" His voice carries across the shop, easy and professional, the tone he uses for customers.
"Yeah." A familiar voice drifts across the shop. "I'm looking for someone."
