Together, they traveled to Reeds' with Warren's mother and sister.
The trip on the helicopter took half an hour, and Jordan spent it getting to know his husband's relatives while said husband was looking out the window, contributing next to nothing to the conversation.
At least, unlike some people, his relatives seemed nice enough.
Warren's mother, Sophia Reed, was a beta. She must have been in her late sixties, but she still looked lovely, her face barely lined.
Amelia Reed was exceptionally pretty, her omega scent sweet and inoffensive. She was twenty-one, with the same black hair and black eyes her eldest brother had. Apparently, she also had another brother, a male alpha four years her senior.
"Leo is coming home soon," Amelia told him excitedly. "Now that the war is over, his deployment will end." Her eyes were bright with joy. "I miss him so much."
"We all do, dear," Sophia said, shooting her eldest son a look Jordan couldn't quite read. "He should have never left."
Warren's jaw was locked. He said nothing.
Jordan wondered about the strange tension between the mother and the son, but he didn't ask. He barely knew these people.
At last, they arrived.
Jordan got out of the helicopter and stared at the handsome mansion. It was smaller than his father's palace, but not by much. It wasn't as tall, but it was more sprawling.
"Welcome to Reed Ranch, Jordan," Sophia said. "Your new home."
Jordan gave her a faint smile. He doubted he would stay here long enough to start thinking of this place as a home.
He cocked his head to the side as he noticed someone standing on the steps that led to the front door.
As they approached, it became obvious that the person was a male omega.
He must have been around Jordan's age, maybe older, but he smelled unclaimed, which was unusual for an omega over thirty, especially one that was so beautiful.
And he really was. Light brown, wavy hair, large green eyes, a very lovely face with delicate bone structure and perfect skin, and a petite, fit body curvy in all the right places: this man looked like a picture-perfect omega.
"Eli!" Amelia said, grabbing the omega's hand and leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Allow me to introduce you to—"
"Amelia," Sophia said sharply. "It's customary for the man of the house to introduce his spouse himself."
Amelia flushed, looking apologetically at her brother. Warren didn't look like he cared one way or the other.
"This is my husband, Jordan Schaefer," he said, putting a hand on Eli's shoulder. "This is Eli," he said, giving the omega a soft smile.
Jordan pursed his lips, annoyed. This is Eli? Really? He wasn't even going to explain who the omega was?
He breathed in deeply, trying to rein in his temper, not understanding why this bothered him so much. But taking deep breaths only served to make him more aware of Eli's sweet scent. The scent of a fertile, unclaimed omega.
Eli had clearly had his heat very recently; that was why his scent was overwhelmingly sweet.
Jordan noticed that Warren was watching him carefully, his eyes slightly narrowed.
At first, he was confused before realizing that Warren must have felt protective of that omega.
It rubbed Jordan the wrong way for reasons he couldn't quite put his finger on. Did his husband think he was so uncivilized that he couldn't control himself around an omega fresh out of heat? He was hardly a green alpha who'd recently popped his first knot.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Jordan said in his nicest voice, stretching his hand out.
After a moment, Eli smiled at him tentatively and grasped
"You are very lucky," he said. His voice was pleasant and melodic. A perfect omega voice. "Warren is wonderful. The best man I know."
"You're exaggerating," Warren said with a laugh, his eyes fond as he gazed at the omega.
Eli grinned at him. "No, I'm not—" He let out a pained sound and yanked his hand out of Jordan's grasp, his scent spiking with anxiety and wariness.
"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" Jordan said, shrugging apologetically. "Sometimes I don't know my own strength."
Warren laid a hand on Jordan's shoulder, gripping it a little too tightly.
In clear warning.
Jordan stiffened. The touch seemed to be burning him even through the layers of his clothes.
"Let's go inside," Warren said, steering him toward the front door. To onlookers, it probably looked like Warren was being an attentive husband, but Jordan could feel the hardness of his grip. It didn't hurt, but it could.
They both knew it. It made Jordan's skin prickle.
Once they reached the house, everything was a bit of a blur. He was introduced to the staff and shown around by the friendly housekeeper.
His husband accompanied them on the tour but remained silent, stone-faced, watching Jordan with a sharp, strange look in his eyes.
By the end of the tour, Jordan felt like screaming. Or punching someone.
His skin was crawling with terrible awareness, and he was subconsciously pumping out alpha pheromones for no damn reason. He felt threatened, but he wasn't even sure why. Everyone was friendly and nice to him, as if he were a real husband of their boss rather than a political match.
When they reached Warren's office, the beta thanked the housekeeper and pushed Jordan inside it.
The door shut with a hard thud, and they were alone. "What was that?" Warren said.
Jordan crossed his arms over his chest. "What was what?"
Warren stepped closer until they were toe to toe. Black eyes bored into him. "The way you behaved with Eli. It was unacceptable."
"I did nothing. I was nice."
"Your body language wasn't nice. Nor was your scent." Warren grimaced. "Look, don't take it personally, but you should cut that alpha bullshit out when you're in this house, especially around Eli."
Jordan pressed his lips into a thin line. Eli this, Eli that.
"Why? What's so special about Eli?" His voice was snider than he'd intended.
Warren's eyes hardened. "It's not my story to tell. Just stay away from him."
Jordan glared at him, acutely aware of how unsteady his breathing was.
How close they were. "Who do you think you are to give me orders? Even my father is less high-handed than you, and he's an alpha. I am, too."
Part of him was mortified by the immature posturing shit coming out of his mouth. He was better than that, but he couldn't seem to stop as he said condescendingly, "You're forgetting yourself, husband."
Warren slammed him against the door so hard his bones rattled, that familiar scent of ozone becoming overwhelming again.
"Maybe you're used to people catering to your every whim, but you're not in North Veridia anymore," Warren said, his pupils dilated. "This is my house. If I say you should be nicer to Eli, you will be. Is that understood?"
That low, deep voice and strong scent were doing something strange to him. He could barely breathe.
Before he realized what he was doing, Jordan tilted his head to the side. Baring his throat.
Warren went very still.
Jordan flushed, mortified and confused by his own behavior.
Alphas didn't bare their throats, or at least bared them very rarely as a sign of respect, usually to older alphas they were related to. He had no damn reason to bare his throat to his beta husband.
But before he could retract the offer, Warren lifted his hand and pressed his thumb against the scent gland on Jordan's neck.
Jordan inhaled shakily and allowed him to scent-mark him. It was the most innocent, non-invasive form of scent-marking, but it was still scent-marking. He could feel the scent of ozone lingering on his skin, very faint but there.
After a short while, the anger receded from Warren's scent. He let his hand drop, and for a few moments, they just stared at each other.
Jordan forced himself to keep holding his gaze, even though the urge to drop it was nearly irresistible. His body felt off, his knees weak.