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“Supposedly. I mean, holy crap, the number of omegas I’ve seen him with. So fuckin’ many, you know? And I always tell him to slow down. Omegas are—no offense, Sasha—gentle creatures. You don’t immediately offer to bond with one. They need to be wooed.”

“Not true mates,” Sasha told him.

“Well, no, no, of course not. But how many omegas have true mates?”

“I know of two,” he announced happily.

“That’s amazing, but the ones I’ve seen him with, I guess he meets them through that antique business I was telling you about, as many omegas, especially the ones from the lower end of the jarl, have a lot of treasures, just not a lot of money.”

“Like jewelry that mothers used to pass down to their daughters,” Sasha suggested.

“Exactly.”

“So he helps a lot of omegas of the jarl, would you say?”

“Yes, many.”

“And he helps them find buyers for their pieces.”

“That’s correct.”

“And he’s a wolf himself, so they trust him without even knowing why.”

“Yeah, he’s said it to me a hundred times. The omegas flock to him because omegas can’t say no to stronger wolves.”

“No, they can’t,” I agreed grimly.

“It’s lucky you claimed Sasha here as your mate, alpha. I was certain Wyn was interested in him, but perhaps I was wrong.”

He absolutely was not wrong, and I now had a name to give to Wade.

It took three more hours to make sure everything was off the floor. In that time, everyone who worked at Hudson’s, except for Wynton Coe, came to meet me. As it turned out, I especially liked Bing and told Sasha that he needed to be more patient with him.

“Why? Because he talked cars and motorcycles with you?”

“Yes,” I told him with a smile.

I got an eye roll over that, but he promised, under his breath, that he would try.

The person I liked the most after Bing was Madeline Beyer, because she had been to many events with Gigi and spoke of her fondly. Everyone was funny and charming, and most importantly, they all adored Sasha and were thrilled that he’d found his mate. He looked the happiest anyone could remember seeing him. That, of course, I loved hearing.

Wade called when we were finally on our way home, and I put him on speaker in the car so we could both talk to him. He began by saying he never enjoyed jurisdictional dick-measuring contests with the Feds, but he had to admit that they’d done a good job. Between them and the marshals they worked with, Royce was already in custody.

“That was fast,” I told him.

“Yes, it was,” he agreed. “And by the way, Royce had more to say about Wynton Coe.”

“Like that he’s a wolf?”

“Why, yes. As well as distantly related to…”

“I’m going to say, River Wilkes,” Sasha answered excitedly. “Ohmygod, Wade, was Donald Endicott not a lupine?”

“Not a full lupine, no.”

Sasha shrieked and clapped his hands.

“Why are we excited about this?” I asked him.