#93

Raven didn't immediately answer the question. He looked embarrassed and broken. Ryan invited him into the dining room and offered him coffee.

As we settled around the table, several Omegas bustled around, their movements careful and purposeful. They poured coffee with a silent efficiency, arranging an array of sweets that adorned the tabletop. A silent acknowledgment lingered in the air as they tactfully avoided meeting Raven's eyes.

"What happened?" I asked again, my voice soft, the room now hushed with the anticipation of Raven's response.

"I didn't come for sympathy, but I had nowhere else to go," Raven began, his eyes downcast, avoiding the weight of our gazes. Ryan, sensing Raven's vulnerability, gestured towards the chair, silently offering a seat.

"When I got home from Italy, my father was very angry that I hadn't been able to get Ryan to sign the peace treaty," Raven continued.

“Did he do this to you?” Ryan's question cut through the air, his eyes ablaze with restrained a