The month-long summit had always been the part of the year that Charles looked forward to the least. The strategic meetings with investors were what Anton, for all his duplicity and superficial charm, had excelled at. The investors didn’t want grandiose claims of how the Initiative was going to bring their species into a better, brighter future. They just wanted to know how it was going to increase the value of their shares in the next fiscal year.

Despite his obvious displeasure, Myron held up his end of the agreement to keep dealing with the press. While the omega’s down-to-earth manner had ruffled a few feathers in the beginning, he had quickly become a media darling to rival Avery himself.

Well, perhaps “darling” was the wrong word. Myron’s snide remarks to the overstep of certain reporters had been turned into a meme and Charles had seen a few T-shirts featuring them around the convention floor. The omega was fast becoming an icon, and he proved naturally gifted at coming up with answers to questions Charles would have stumbled over in the blink of an eye. On the one hand, knowing the public relations were covered by Myron and the rest of the marketing team made it easier for Charles to focus on the investors and policymakers he needed to have on his side. On the other, he knew that at the rate things were going, Myron could quite easily tank him if he had reason.

And Charles had given him plenty of reason.

He knew he was effectively punishing Myron for something that wasn’t his fault, but he didn’t trust himself to be around the man who made him feel so… relentlessly. Whatever it was that had happened between them, he couldn’t explain it and he’d never been good at dealing with things that couldn’t be quantified and understood logically. He’d never been good at anything involving emotion, and every interaction with Myron was emotional in one way or another.

“Mr. Metcalf, your three o-clock is here,” Andy announced, peeking into the temporary office Charles was working from for the duration of the summit.

“I thought that was cancelled,” he said, frowning. He still hadn’t finished his notes for the presentation he was supposed to be giving at five.

“It was, sir. Yesterday. You rescheduled for today.”

“Right,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. He’d been sleeping less than two hours each night, rather than his usual four, and he was already feeling the effects of it. “I’ll be right there. Please, stall them as you can.”

“Yes, sir.” Andy left the room and took no warmth with him. It had been two months since Charles had interrupted them, and while Charles had managed to put his personal feelings aside for the sake of his professional relationships, Andy was still acting like he’d caught the Alpha getting fucked by his mate.

Not that he knew. Not that anyone knew the truth about who Myron was to him, not even Charles himself.

Saying that Myron was his omega didn’t feel right. The relationship came with connotations that certainly didn’t fit the scope of their… whatever. The term “relationship” didn’t feel right, either. You’d have to talk to someone in order to have a relationship with them, and Charles still didn’t have the courage.

He barely had the energy to get through his next meeting, but he did. Jaspar Amari had flown all the way from Lahore to meet with Charles, no doubt to discuss his concerns about Project Renaissance. The Alpha had personal ties to one of the greats Myron had named in his now famous speech about the potential of returning the dead. The good thing about having a spokesman who wasn’t a scientist was that he could communicate the research in ways that were exciting and relevant to the public. The bad thing about it was that sensationalism was almost a guarantee, and now Charles had to do damage control, reassuring the verum Alpha himself that his father-in-law was not going to be resurrected against the family’s wishes.

The moment Charles walked into the meeting room and saw Jaspar’s somber guards standing on either side of the intimidating man at the head of the table, he knew this was not going to be a pleasant meeting. Jaspar stood to shake his hand, but the Alpha’s expression was as cold as that of his guards. “Mr. Metcalf.”

“Alpha Amari,” Charles said, nodding in deference to the man. “It’s an honor to finally meet you.”

“I wish I could say the same, but given the history of my family and your spokesman’s recent remarks, I’m sure you understand my hesitance.”

“Yes. Of course,” Charles said, sitting across from him. It was a gesture of submission to be the one to sit down first in the exhaustive list of body language and social codes Alphas were expected to keep, but he lacked the patience or the energy for most. Anton was the one who’d been interested in amassing political power through the company. All Charles cared about was implementing the research and keeping the investors happy long enough to do so.

Besides, Jaspar had more reason to despise him than most of the detractors he’d inherited from Anton. The man’s surrogate father was one of the omegas who had been brutally abused in an unrelated breeding program many years earlier, and the entire Amari family had remained among Futurus’ most outspoken critics. They also funded most of the activism against the company, and were not shy about acknowledging it.

“First things first, how much of this Project Renaissance nonsense is legitimate and how much of it is a story drummed up by your marketing team?” Jaspar asked, holding up a thick stack of paper. At first glance, it looked like the standard promotional materials, but Charles soon realized it was from the executive-level briefing he’d distributed only to a select few.

“Where on Earth did you get that?”

Jaspar’s eyes narrowed. “A source. And if you’re inclined to take action, let me remind you that you’re the one who dragged my deceased father-in-law’s name into this.”

Charles sighed. “I’m not interested in having a legal battle, Alpha Amari. It merely seems that I haven’t done as efficient of a job at vetting my inner circle as I’d hoped.”

His response seemed to surprise the other Alpha, but Jaspar still had his guard up. “I’m sure my rocky relationship with your predecessor was no secret. I’ve been withholding judgment this past year on the wise counsel of my mate, in hopes that you might be taking the company in a different direction, but this has gone too far.”

“I apologize for the remarks my spokesman made. He was placed in an unfortunate situation and he spoke rashly in an attempt to communicate my vision for this project,” Charles said carefully. “I can certainly understand why you and your family would be upset at having your father-in-law’s name attached to something that goes against his legacy, and for that, I can only offer my sincerest apologies. When anyone thinks of the greatest hearts and minds we lost during the course of the war, Mitchell Teak’s name automatically springs to mind. I can assure you it was a mistake that will never happen again.”

Jaspar stared at him, and Charles could tell the man was either looking to poke holes in his apology or call it out as insincere. “I believe you actually meant that,” he finally muttered.

“For all my faults, I am not in the habit of saying things I don’t mean,” said Charles.

Jaspar snorted. “I have to admit, an apology was not what I expected when I came here. Certainly not from an Alpha.”

Charles gave him a tired smile. “I think of myself as a scientist before that. Or CEO, for that matter. Of course, the company will be happy to make a donation in your father-in-law’s name to a charity of your choice along with a public apology.”

“Oh. I suppose that would be sufficient,” Jaspar said, straightening his back. “But what resolves the personal matter does not resolve my concerns or my responsibilities as the verum Alpha. I know that Futurus has woven itself within the fabric of the Federation, but the Alliance of Wolves will not hesitate to take unilateral action if we have reason.”

“And what reason might that be?” Charles asked, trying to fight a yawn. He didn’t want to start another war because of his insomnia.

“You’re trying to clone people, for heaven’s sake!” Jaspar cried. “Forcing packs to enter into your breeding program—“

“Matchmaking, please.”

Jaspar glared. “Forcing packs to enter into your matchmaking program presents enough of an ethical dilemma.”

“We aren’t forcing them to do anything,” Charles said firmly. “Rules individual pack systems implement regarding the participation of their members do not fall under the liability of the Futurus Initiative, which holds no actual governmental authority or jurisdiction. I have been working on improving the opt-out process for individuals who may feel pressured by their pack systems to participate, and this year, we implemented a mandatory and confidential interview process to ensure that no program participant is being held against their will.”

“So I’ve heard, but where is the proof? We’re just supposed to take your word for it?” Jaspar scoffed.

“The Tribunal Task Force has been given the full run of our facilities and our regional practices,” Charles said, holding his hands up. “In addition to random, undercover inspections of any branch they choose. My personal records have been combed through, as have my living quarters. If something was going to come out, don’t you think it would have by now?”

“And you willingly opened yourself and the company up to such transparency?” Jaspar asked doubtfully.

“That is the benefit of having nothing to hide, Alpha Amari. There’s no reason to sweat when the dogs come sniffing.”

Jaspar huffed, leaning away from the desk. “And if I don’t trust the methods of the Tribunal?”

“Then you are more than welcome to send an Alliance team to conduct an independent investigation.”

“I will take you up on that,” Jaspar warned.

“I hope you do. Then, perhaps once you see that Futurus is not the villainous institute your decade-long smear campaign has painted us as, we can open discussions regarding a beta run in your region. Your birth rate is lagging behind ours by what, five percent now, isn’t it?”

Charles knew he was in danger of crossing a line, but he didn’t have the tolerance for bureaucrats he usually maintained. Instead, Jaspar smirked. “You may not be a smooth talker like Anton, but you are persuasive, I’ll give you that.”

“It’s the accent,” Charles observed.

Jaspar chuckled. “Too bad I was raised in America.” He shook his head. “I’m not promising you a thing, and I’m not willing to even sit down to discuss it until I’ve had a full tour of your facilities and my own team has combed through your research.”

“You may help yourself to our facilities and I’ll schedule the tour myself, but my personal research notes remain off limits, even to you.”

“And here I thought you had nothing to hide.”

“My research is quite varied these days, now that I have the freedom to do what I please. You may have access to the Project Renaissance files, but there are unrelated projects that are, with all due respect, none of your concern.”

“Fair enough,” Jaspar grunted, watching Charles with growing curiosity. “With the same deference, there is something quite odd about you.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“It’s not an insult,” said Jaspar, chewing on the bottom of his pen as he studied the other man. “It’s your aura.”

“My aura?” Charles asked, surprised.

“Yes. It’s the electromagnetic field that allows you to sense another Alpha, beta or omega. One of the gifts that come with being the verum Alpha is that I can see it,” he explained.

“Fascinating,” Charles murmured. “Now that would be something to study in a controlled setting.”

Jaspar arched an eyebrow. “I’m not going to be your lab rat. But your aura is unlike any Alpha’s I’ve ever seen.”

The comment didn’t surprise Charles. He wasn’t like other Alphas. He was painfully inferior and well aware of it, so he wasn’t shocked that his aura reflected the same. “Oh?”

“It’s difficult to explain, but I’ll put it this way. Say all Alphas’ auras were a shade of red, all betas’ a shade of yellow and all omegas’ were a shade of blue, with plenty of natural variation in between. Your aura would be the color five.”

“I see,” Charles said, not expecting that kind of answer. He was starting to feel dizzy and didn’t want Jaspar to think it had anything to do with his comments. He didn’t get the feeling the Alpha was trying to get under his skin, even if he’d succeeded. “If you’ll excuse me, I should prepare for my next presentation.”

“Yes. I’ll be in attendance,” Jaspar said, standing to button his jacket.

Charles stood and gripped the table when the room started to spin.

“Are you alright?” Jaspar asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

“Yes,” Charles answered, taking a moment to make sure he was steady before he tried standing again. “Just stood up too soon, that’s all.”

“No offense, but you look like death,” Jaspar said, looking back as one of his guards opened the door. “You should try to get some sleep.”

“I’ll do that,” Charles muttered, exchanging goodbyes and business cards with the Alpha. Jaspar assured him that his people would be in touch, and Charles had no doubt that they would.

Once he and the Alliance Alpha had parted ways, Charles stopped off in the bathroom to collect himself and wet his face before the presentation. It was the final major event of the summit, but his stress was far from over. Once they returned to London, he would no longer be able to put off Myron’s attempts to talk about their relationship.

Charles hadn’t eaten since the night before, but that didn’t stop his stomach from turning on him. It wasn’t entirely uncommon for him to get sick before a presentation, and this was one that even Myron couldn’t do for him, but he wasn’t used to his nerves getting the best of him quite this badly.

The bathroom door opened as he was rinsing his mouth and of course Myron was the one who walked in. It figured the first time Charles had seen the omega in days, he would humiliate himself.

“Charles?” The worry in Myron’s voice touched him more than it should have. “Are you sick?”

“I’m fine. It’s just nerves,” he said, pulling out a handful of paper towels to dry off. He could feel Myron looking at him, trying to see if he was lying.

“You look awful,” the omega said, echoing Jaspar Amari’s sentiment as he stepped closer, trapping Charles between him and the sink.

Myron was dressed for the evening’s events in a white suit with a blood red shirt that made his eyes look even greener and his hair even redder. It wasn’t fair. Public speaking was hell on earth without having to deal with a judgmental angel before he took his place at that podium. “So I’ve heard.”

“Have you been sleeping at all?” Myron asked, touching his cheek. Charles tried to step past him but Myron’s body had his pinned, and the omega’s eyes darkened with determination. “Talk to me,” he ordered. “What’s wrong?”

“I told you I don’t want to talk until the summit is over.”

“I’m not talking about that,” Myron growled, putting his hands on the edge of the sink as he leaned in. “I’m talking about your health. You don’t need to be giving a presentation, you need to be seeing a doctor.”

“I don’t do doctors,” Myron said firmly.

“You’re gonna start.”

“What are you, my mother?”

“I’m your spokesman, your personal assistant, your fucking bodyguard and whatever else I have to be to make up for the fact that you won’t let me be your mate,” Myron snarled. “Why do you have to be so fucking stubborn, Charles? Just let me take care of you.”

Those words made his heart ache with longing he had no business feeling. “I’m late,” he whispered, refusing to look into those eyes. The moment he did, he knew he’d give in. “Please. If you want to help, then just let me get through this night and when we get back, you can patronize me to your heart’s content.”

Myron kept watching him, but his mouth finally tilted into a crooked smile. “Fine,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets as he stepped back just enough to let Charles pass, but still close enough that he had to brush by him. “But I’m going to take you up on that.”

“I’m sure,” Charles muttered.

Myron’s arm flew out to block the door and the omega leaned down over him. “Here’s a little tip for steadying your nerves up there. Just remember I’ll be picturing you naked the whole time.”

Charles blinked. “How on Earth is that supposed to help my nerves?”

Myron gave him a devilish grin. “I guess it’s not.”

* * *

The presentation room was filled with reporters, regional Alphas, and Jaspar Amari, as promised. Charles found himself far more concerned about tripping up in front of the cocky omega he could just barely see sitting backstage with his arms and legs crossed casually. What made him even more nervous was the fact that Nicholas and Avery were also in attendance. He would have no choice but to greet them in person, and all he could do was hope that Myron didn’t blurt out everything.

By the time he reached the end of his speech, he was too physically ill to worry about his nerves. If he made it offstage without throwing up on the podium, he would call it a victory.

“And so, without rambling on even further, I’d like to thank you all for making this the most successful summit to date,” Charles said, deciding to skip over his last few talking points when he realized he wasn’t going to make it. “From securing the future of our species to all the possibilities that Project Renaissance has unlocked, I look forward to —”

“You’re a fraud!” Someone cried from the audience. Charles was used to hecklers, but the summit was supposed to be a closed meeting with only the most important members in attendance. When he saw the young man standing in the crowd, raising a gun, he wondered if this was the way Anton had felt before his death. His life didn’t flash before his eyes, and time didn’t stop, but he did find himself overwhelmed by one emotion that overcame even the fear. Regret.

Charles had barely had time to duck before the gun fired, but he found himself on the ground with another body on top of him. A huge furry body with dark red fur and sharp fangs an inch away from his neck. Somehow, he knew the beast was Myron. He didn’t even know if he’d been shot, he just knew he couldn’t breathe, and the wolf’s scent was the same as the one that soothed him so easily.

There were screams from the crowd as security rushed to take out the threat, and another shot fired into the air. Charles grasped the wolf who’d collapsed on top of him and felt the blood soaking into its fur. “Myron!” he cried, managing to get the beast off of him so he could examine the wound. It was hard to tell where his heart was, but the bullet seemed to have gone straight through his bulky chest.

“Oh, God,” Charles sobbed. “Help! I need a medic!”

The wolf’s green eyes flickered open, but barely. He looked like he’d been stunned, and he tried to lick Charles’ hand as the Alpha applied pressure to the spot where most of the blood was coming from.

Charles stared at his mate’s beast in fear and wonder. Myron was bigger than any omega he’d ever seen, which wasn’t a surprise since he was equally formidable in his human form. Even so, he was unlike any wolf Charles had seen, period. His fangs were bigger and protruded through his lips, almost like a saber-toothed cat’s, and his limbs were longer, more muscular. He was still quadrupedal, but he looked like he wasn’t quite meant to be. Just like the omega’s spirit, he was strangely beautiful and unquestionably powerful.

He was also slipping fast.

The medics came and pushed Charles side. One of the betas had to hold him back to keep him from interfering, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Myron. The medics seemed as taken aback by the omega’s wolf form as Charles was, but they overcame their confusion quickly to treat him.

Charles went numb as he watched them. For a month, he’d been avoiding Myron, hoping he’d find a way to say what he needed to say without exposing his heart. Now, he realized he might never get the chance.