Ronin Cross adjusted his tie for the fourth time in less than two minutes, uncertain why the damned thing didn’t look right, when he’d worn this tie a dozen times in the recent past. He glared at his reflection in the mirror of the station’s public restroom, annoyed by his restlessness and anxious state. Not once in his five years as a practicing attorney had he been nervous to interview a brand-new client. This shouldn’t be any different.

Except it was different. This was an exceptional case. Not only because he was defending an omega charged with murdering his alpha, but also because the omega in question was someone Ronin used to know.

He checked his tie and suit again, but he looked fine. Put together, as always, his long-ish black hair slicked back from his face. Constant five-o-clock shadow, check. He looked absolutely normal, so this fussing was ridiculous. He grabbed his briefcase and exited the restroom.

Only this morning, he’d promised his client’s brother that he’d get the omega off from the charges, and that was a huge promise to keep. But Ronin was one of the best attorneys in his home province, and he’d never backed down from a challenge.

A patrolman pointed him toward the meeting room where his client should be waiting for him. Ronin had avoided reading any of the news coverage about the case, wanting to get as many of the facts as possible from his client, and not filtered through the ink of a reporter’s pen. That meant he’d avoided seeing any pictures of his client, so he only had a weak, decade-old memory to go by when he opened the meeting room door.

His client, Kell Iverson, sat behind a metal table, his pale hands cuffed to the table’s surface. He was thin, his entire body ghostly pale, except for the stark bruising beneath his eyes, probably from stress or lack of sleep. His face was barely familiar to the image Ronin had always kept of the fourteen-year-old boy who’d let him buy him a birthday treat. His cheekbones were too sharp, his expression exhausted. Hopeless.

“Kell,” Ronin said.

Kell blinked, long and slow, his head turning to look at him. At first, there was no reaction at all. And then his eyes widened a fraction as some form of recognition stole in. He clearly hadn’t been informed ahead of time who his lawyer was. “I know you,” Kell replied.

“You did, a long time ago.” Ronin shut the door, then sat in the chair opposite Kell. He put his briefcase on the floor and tried to meet the eyes of a man he’d never been able to forget. “Do you remember me?”

Kell’s dull green eyes seemed to zero in on the scar on Ronin’s cheek. “Yes. Ronin. My birthday. Your family moved away.”

“We did, and I always regretted not saying goodbye to you. We didn’t know each other very long, but I did care about you.”

I still do.

Ronin hadn’t realized it at the time, but in those few brief moments he’d spent with Kell, he’d bonded with the young omega. Bonded in such a way that, even a decade later, Ronin hadn’t mated. He’d missed his omega in a way he’d never understood until this moment. Kell’s scent, changed by being mated but still unique to him, washed over Ronin in an appealing way that spoke to his inner alpha. That bond was still there, and it only strengthened with their closeness.

Kell’s expression changed into one of confusion. “Why are you here?”

“I’m your lawyer. Tarek retained me, and I’ve already spoken to him and Braun about your defense.”

“My defense.” Kell’s nostrils flared in an appealing way—and Ronin needed to stop thinking about Kell in any sexual way whatsoever. Kell had gone through hell these past three years, and the last thing he needed was Ronin panting after him.

“Yes, your defense. You’re going to be put on trial for killing your mate, Krause Iverson.”

“I remember his name.” The snippy comment hinted at life yet still inside of Kell. Life that hadn’t been beaten away by his abusive mate. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you want to defend me? I don’t even know what happened that day, how he died. I don’t remember.”

“I know, and I believe you.” Ronin desperately wanted to reach out and hold Kell’s hand. To somehow make him feel better. “Do you remember when I said I believed omegas deserved more rights? I still believe that, and I’m active with omega rights groups in my home, Nakota Province.”

The corners of Kell’s lips twitched. “Your omegin must enjoy the support. Does he work?”

“I’ve never mated, Kell. I have no omegin, or offspring.”

Kell’s mouth fell open. “You’re joking.”

“Afraid not. I’ve never met an omega with whom I’ve felt the mating bond.”

Except for you, and you’re completely off limits now.

“You’re lucky, then,” Kell said. “I never felt the bond with Krause, but Father wanted one less omega mouth to feed at home. Krause’s initial kindness didn’t last long.”

“We don’t have to talk about any of that today. His abuse will be vital to your defense, but we have time to discuss those things later. My first order of business is to try and get you released on bond, into my care.”

“They could do that?”

“They could, yes. As an alpha attorney, my word that you’ll appear for your trial date is as good as gold, but it’s very difficult to get bond for a murder suspect. So don’t get your hopes up too high. I’ll do what I can, but it isn’t a guarantee.”

“Okay.”

“I also need to make sure you’re comfortable with me as your attorney. Our prior relationship was ten years ago, and it was very brief, but if you’d rather another, I can suggest a replacement.”

“I want you.” Kell blushed. “I mean, as my attorney.”

Ronin scented the air again, surprised that Kell’s scent had…changed. Subtle, but different. That only happened when an omega felt the mating bond…oh shit.

Kell wouldn’t make eye contact, the instinct created by years of abuse at the hands of cruel alphas, so Ronin had trouble deciphering his mood or thoughts. Did Kell feel the mating bond that Ronin had felt so many years ago?

As much as it delighted his inner alpha, it also worried him. Kell had recently given birth, so his next heat was unpredictable. A mating bond could easily send him into heat, and that was not a complication they needed so early in the process.

“Excellent,” Ronin said. “Then consider me hired, which means anything you say to me from here onward is protected by confidentiality. Anything.”

“Okay.”

“Like what happened the day Krause died.”

Kell groaned. “I swear on my life, I don’t remember. I truly wish I did. Do you know how disconcerting it is to remember your mate leaving the room on some veiled threat, and then not remembering another thing until you’re in the hospital, being spoken to by your panicked brother?”

“I’m sorry, no, I don’t. And I’m sorry you went through that.”

Hearing details of Kell’s brutal upbringing and mating to Krause from others was one thing, but hearing bits of his truth from Kell’s own mouth? Infuriating. Ronin took alpha suppressors because of his job, so it helped keep his instinctive rage under control, but it still simmered beneath the surface, hot and deadly.

“The only thing keeping me together and not giving up completely is Braun,” Kell said. “He’s been so strong these past three years, my touchstone in the real world. He’s risked his life for me, in more ways than one, and I’ll never be able to repay him.”

Ronin thought back to the teenage boy who’d been so eager to present a brownie to his little brother. “I’ve met Braun. He’s incredibly brave and strong. You’re lucky to have him.”

“I know. Without Braun out there, I’d have no reason to fight the murder charge. Even though I don’t remember, it’s possible I did it. I hated him so much, but he was my mate, and I didn’t want him dead. It’s all so confusing.”

“I know, and I’m not here to make you feel bad about it. All I ask from you going forward is the truth. Be honest with me as much as possible about everything, from what you remember, to what mood you’re in. And especially if you feel a heat coming on.”

Kell’s eyes narrowed. “Why? Volunteering to help?” The snarled questions surprised Ronin—and pleased him, as well. Kell did have fight left in him.

“Not at all,” Ronin replied. “But your heat may come at an important time in the process, and you’ll need to be excused for the duration. I don’t want to drop this on the court, so a heads up when you feel the first symptoms is greatly appreciated.”

“Oh.” Kell stilled looked suspicious, and Ronin didn’t blame him. “Okay.”

“Thank you. Now do you have any questions for me?”

Kell studied his cuffed hands. “I don’t know. Why did you move away so suddenly?”

That came out of nowhere, but it wasn’t an altogether shocking question. “My father received a great opportunity for employment in another province. Fantastic pay and a retirement plan. He couldn’t pass it up, because it meant we were no longer poor. It gave me a chance to attend university and then law school.”

“Oh.”

“It all happened so quickly. I didn’t know your phone number, so I stopped by your house one day, but your father said you weren’t home.”

Kell blinked several times. “He never told me you stopped by, but that doesn’t surprise me. I was too young for him to dump off on an interested alpha. Not that you were interested.”

I was, but I didn’t have the words to say it.

Ronin had always expected to meet and bond with an omega closer to his own age, not one four years his junior, who was only beginning to grow into his body. And despite being so thin and pale, Kell had grown several inches. That was obvious even while he was sitting. He was still beautiful, with his round green eyes that never ventured to meet Ronin’s.

“I don’t know what I was back then, other than tired of being poor,” Ronin said. “I can freely admit to that. Our change in circumstances gave my entire family a new host of choices in our lives. Upward mobility.”

“Upward mobility sounds nice, until it starts to beat you with a closed fist.”

Ronin flinched. “The Iverson family is quite wealthy and influential in this city, or so I’m told.”

“They are. I don’t understand why Krause chose me, considering I had no money and no pedigree to speak of.” Kell snorted. “Maybe he thought that a poor omega would be less likely to fight his abuse. More likely to believe it when Krause told me no other alpha would have wanted me, especially going into my first heat so late in life.”

“How late?”

“Nearly twenty-one. It took us close to three years to finally conceive.” Kell’s eyes filled with tears that Ronin longed to reach out and dry. “And then he sent our son away for the crime of being beta. The only son I’ll ever bear now.”

“How do you know?”

Kell stared at his chin like he’d said the sky was yellow and the sun was blue. “I nearly died giving birth the first time. My doctor said I have too much scar tissue to risk another pregnancy; that even if a Cesarean was possible, I could still hemorrhage and die. I’m so used up, no other alpha will want to mate with me. I have absolutely nothing to offer him.”

He spoke with so much certainty and grief that Ronin wanted to reassure him. Yes, one day, someone will want him again, even if he never bears another child.

I want you.

And he absolutely could not act on those feelings until the trial was over. The impropriety of an alpha representing his bonded omega could get the entire thing declared a mistrial, and someone else would have to fight for Kell. No, lawyer first. Freedom first. Once Kell was free of these charges, then maybe Ronin could claim the omega he’d never been able to forget.

* * *

Seeing Ronin Cross again after so many years, especially given the insanity of his life these past few days, had nearly sent Kell into a state of shock. Of all the people he’d imagined might be his lawyer, he’d never considered the teenage alpha he’d once had a long-distance crush on. And the first alpha to break his adolescent heart.

He hadn’t pined for Ronin for very long, his subconscious slotting him in with all the other cruel alphas he knew, from his father to the boys who’d attacked him on the sidewalk that day. That confrontation had only been the first of more to come, until his life had become a seemingly endless parade of bruises and brutal fucking. He’d come to truly hate his heats, not only because he was nearly endlessly knotted to Krause, but because of who else Krause had allowed to knot him.

Kell’s stomach cramped, and he shoved those memories aside. No need to examine them now, not in front of Ronin. Although, from what Ronin had said of his defense, he’d want to know all the horrible, gory details at some point.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Ronin said. “You’re still young and desirable, and perhaps you’ll meet a widowed alpha with children, who is looking for an omegin to help raise them.”

“In a perfect world, perhaps.” Kell had no hope that he’d find another alpha, even if he wanted one. Braun had lucked into an amazing, generous alpha with Tarek, but those men were rare and it was unlikely one would want Kell and his broken body that would never bear another child.

His heart hurt and his arms ached for the weight he was missing there, as they often did when he was reminded of Branson. His infant son who’d been torn from Kell’s life after only ten days. Krause had adopted the baby to someone, but the authorities had yet to track him down—yet one more thing Krause had stolen from him.

“There’s a chance I’ll end up in prison, anyway,” Kell continued, “and who knows what my life will be like there.”

As omegas were rarely convicted of crimes, he had no idea what happened to omegas who went to prison. Were they segregated from the rest of the population? Housed only with betas and protected from the alphas? What about heats? Would alpha guards line up around the cell block to “help” him?

The whole thing made Kell sick to his stomach. He’d rather die than face that sort of future.

“Don’t think that way,” Ronin said with an odd ferocity in his voice. The emotion prickled over Kell’s senses, the same way Ronin’s scent had when he first sat down. “I want positive thinking only from here on out. Think about a future with your brother and no bars between you.”

Kell wanted that more than anything in the world, but believing it would happen took more mental energy than he possessed. He couldn’t sleep in his noisy jail cell, with taunts coming from criminals and guards alike. No one had touched him, because there were cameras everywhere inside the jail facilities, but Kell had been through too much not to expect danger from everyone he met.

Even Ronin Cross.

“I won’t repay you for your help with sex,” Kell said.

Ronin’s entire body jerked as if slapped. “Goddess, Kell, I would never ask that of one of my clients. Never. I’ve represented omegas before, and not once did I require a sexual favor in return.” He frowned. “That day, your birthday, you seemed to think I’d want something in return for buying you sweets. Have you always seen yourself as a body to trade?”

“It’s hard not to see yourself that way when it’s how you’ve been treated your entire life. You were the first alpha who ever came to my rescue, and you were also the last.”

“I’m so sorry. I wish you’d had a better life.”

“Yeah, well, if wishes were credits, I’d be a millionaire ten times over. I spent so many countless hours in that bed, recovering from some wound or other, imagining another life. A happy, loving home with happy children and an alpha who loved me. Those fantasies kept me mostly sane.”

Some days Kell wasn’t entirely sure he was sane. Perhaps he’d lost part of his mind when he lost those few hours of memories on the day Krause died.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Ronin asked. “Coffee or soda?”

“Water, please.” His mouth was dry, but he didn’t want any special treatment or favors. He wanted to believe Ronin, but Ronin was an alpha. And they weren’t to be trusted, not even Braun’s alpha Tarek. They were all the enemy.

Ronin disappeared and returned quickly with two bottles of water. He twisted the cap off one before sliding it across the table to Kell. Kell had trouble because of the cuffs, but he managed a few sips.

“So what now?” Kell asked.

“Now we get to work.” Ronin pulled a notepad and pen out of his briefcase. “I’ve already been given a list of servants who currently work at your home. Is there anyone in particular that Krause treated badly? Anyone who might want to hurt him?”

“Everyone had issues with Krause, because he was verbally abusive to the entire staff. Always belittling their work, telling them they were lazy, slow or terrible at simple tasks they performed just fine. No one was good enough, and our staff didn’t last long. A few weeks to a few months, tops. Except for the cook. He’d been there for close to a year, I think.”

“Why did the cook stay so long?”

“I don’t know. The cook before him? I walked in on him giving Krause a blow job in the kitchen, and the next day that cook was gone.”

“His name?”

“Paulo Sumar, I believe. I only remember because I went to school the same year as one of his brothers.”

Ronin wrote that down. “I’ll try to get in touch with him.”

“Why?”

“Because we have to establish a pattern of abuse from Krause, not only against you, but against his employees. And if we can get some of them to testify, especially the current staff, it creates reasonable doubt that you were the only one with a reason to want him dead.”

“But I didn’t want him dead. I wanted him to stop hurting me. I don’t wish anyone dead.”

Are you so sure about that?

Shut up.

“It was a figure of speech, I apologize,” Ronin said. “We simply want to establish that the mood in the house was a negative one, and that others might have wanted him dead, either intentionally, or perhaps in a fit of passion to protect you from further harm.”

Kell shook his head. “I wasn’t really friends with any of them. The only one I spoke with regularly was Scully. He was sympathetic toward my situation. He was also there the day Braun came over, after my son was taken, and he saw what Krause did to Braun. Scully told me later he hated himself for not stepping in, and he was the one who let Tarek in so Tarek could save Braun from being raped.”

“Then he’s definitely a witness we want to call.”

“As long as Senior Iverson hasn’t paid him off. I’m sure he’s already tried to silence the staff with money.”

“We’ll see. I’ll make contacting Scully top priority after our meeting is concluded.”

“Okay.”

Ronin went down the list of current staff, and Kell remembered as much as he could about how he’d seen Krause treat them. Ronin took extensive notes in a fancy, looping handwriting that looked like a secret code to Kell.

“What is that writing style?” he asked.

“It’s called cursive,” Ronin replied with a grin. “Ancient style that’s no longer used, except in certain schools like law. If you don’t know it, our notes are difficult to read, in case they’re stolen or we accidentally leave information somewhere.”

“It’s so interesting.”

“Maybe I’ll get a chance to teach you one day.”

Kell said nothing to that. Maybe Ronin had hope for a positive trial outcome, but Kell had to be realistic. He’d learned at a young age that dreams don’t come true for omegas.

Except Braun.

Yes, Braun was a delightful exception, and Kell could live happily single for the rest of his days, knowing Braun had found a protector in Tarek.

Ronin cleared his throat, and they continued down the list. By the time they finished, Kell was exhausted, even though all he’d done was talk. “This is a good start,” Ronin said as he began collecting his various notes. “I have a bunch of leads to follow up on, so thank you for your patience with me.”

“You’re welcome.” Kell hadn’t exactly had a choice.

“I’ll probably visit you at least once a day from here on out, so we can discuss what I’ve learned, and anything new you might have remembered.”

“Okay.” Talking to Ronin was better than staring at the walls of his private cell and enduring passing leers every ten minutes.

“And I will also see about getting Braun in to visit you soon. I have no idea why they aren’t allowing it, seeing as he’s family and he has a bondmate.”

“Please. I’d love to see my brother again.” Kell despised hospitals, but his last two visits held so many good memories of Braun. Sharing a bed for comfort like they did when they were frightened children was one of Kell’s best new memories. He held that memory close at night now, when he slept alone on a chilly cot.

“I’ll do what I can, I promise,” Ronin said. “I would say sleep well, but I know how these jails are. Noisy and understaffed.”

“Well, this one is definitely noisy.” Kell tried to smile but failed. He was too exhausted to bother with emotions he didn’t feel, and he simply didn’t feel like smiling. “Maybe you could look into securing earplugs for me, too?”

Ronin grinned, flashing white teeth. “I’ll do that. Take care and please, try to stay positive. Mental health affects physical health, okay?”

“I’ll do my best.”

Kell watched Ronin leave, curious if that suit jacket was hiding the same taut ass he’d ogled as a young teen, and unsure why he cared. Ronin was here to do a job, and that job was to save Kell from prison and possible execution. Not to make friends. Not to flirt. Kell was a client to him, pure and simple.

Except what sort of lawyer traveled from another faraway province to defend someone he barely knew ten years ago?

That is a very, very good question indeed.

And an answer Kell knew for certain he’d find out.