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When Lincoln begins to swagger toward the door, however, Richard stalks after him, grabbing him by the arm.
Lincoln flinches.
“Hold on, Beta, put those donuts down and stay here. You’re paid to protect your boss and that’s what you’re going to fucking do.” Richard attempts to shake Lincoln but can’t even make him move.
My gargoyle is too large and muscled.
Lincoln turns and lifts his eyebrow at Thomas.
Thomas looks coldly furious. “Don’t order my Betas around.”
“This morning is both our job,” Richard snarls. “If we fuck it up, then your father will blame us both. You’re not the one who… You can hide away in your own house at the bottom of the garden if Raylan’s pissed off, but I live in Saint Hall. I’m the one who has to find ways to coax him into a good mood again. So, get your bodyguard to do his fucking job.”
Thomas gives Lincoln a curt nod.
Richard lets go of Lincoln’s arm.
Lincoln carefully lowers the donuts to the ground by the door, before marching back to stand one step behind Thomas’ shoulder.
Thomas scans Lincoln. “The suits reached you fine then. Good. Your suitcase has already arrived at Saint Estate. I’ve had a room set up for you. Once you’re settled in, you can decorate it however you like. If you need anything else, have concerns or questions, I’m the person to come to.”
“Don’t indulge him.” Richard pushes on the freestanding display of sourdough bread, which I baked this morning. The display wobbles dangerously. I ball my hands into fists. What a knothead. “You’re always coddling Betas like they’re elite Omegas. Betas in the pack are nothing more than servants. Why the fuck are you resisting your own father’s traditions? The Betas know to keep their place and their mouths shut or face the consequences. Right?”
He waves his hand arrogantly at the other Betas, who duck their heads or look away, cowed.
Asshole.
I tense even further.
“Don’t,” Thomas grits out.
“Is that an order?” Richard steps closer.
There’s a warning there.
The tension in the air is thick, suffocating.
Lincoln is gazing between the men, but I can see the way that he’s angling his body to shield Thomas.
Warmth curls through me.
Despite what he may say, until he gathers more evidence about the male Omega, Lincoln will protect Thomas.
“Your father’s right about you. You do need more retraining,” Richard sneers. “You’re a bad Alpha, Tommy.”
Every single man in the room, apart from Richard, flinches on the bad Alpha.
Did Richard really just say such a humiliating and stigmatizing thing publicly?
The tips of Thomas’ ears tinge red, but he becomes impossibly paler. He clasps his hands behind his back. I think that he’s hiding that they’re shaking.
The rest of his pack gather closer around him.
So, they’re loyal to him.
Protective.
It’s useful intel to know that Thomas has close allegiances within his pack. He has an enemy in the young Second Alpha. He’s clearly not respected by his dad. But he’s liked by the Betas.
