It had been two days since Grey broke down, and later decided he would not become the weakling he had almost turned into.
Since then, he had been working closely with Lord Jethro, spending long hours beside him until they finally came up with a clear plan.
"What?" Lord Jethro asked when Grey hesitated, the question practically written across his face.
Grey exhaled slowly before speaking. "How can an omega rule a pack?" he asked. "Is it even possible for me to say anything and have them listen? I lack the natural authority that comes so easily to Alphas, and to you."
It was a question that had been weighing on him since the moment Lord Jethro mentioned that Grey would be taking over his father's position.
"Aren't you taking my name?" Lord Jethro replied. He rose to his feet and walked toward the large window to the side of the office.
The long black trench coat he wore almost swept the floor as he moved. "That alone is enough for them to respect anything that leaves your mouth."
He slipped his hands into the pockets of his black trousers. The black turtleneck he wore wasn't tight, but it still outlined his broad frame, his presence impossible to ignore.
Grey had come to notice that Lord Jethro wore nothing but black. Always the same style. And despite himself, Grey wondered why he didn't wear a suit, as well, why force him to wear suits when he himself didn't.
The moment the thought formed, Grey stiffened.
Remembering that Lord Jethro could hear people's thoughts, he shut his mind down instantly, forcing every stray idea away.
"The priest is coming over," Lord Jethro said, his voice low, "You'll be changing your name in a few minutes and getting a certificate for..." He paused, his voice faltering slightly, as though the lack of a proper word had caught him off guard.
It would have been a marriage certificate.
But Lord Jethro had insisted repeatedly that this was not what it was.
Grey didn't press the issue. He didn't know what was truly happening anymore, and he told himself that understanding didn't matter.
What mattered was improving his life. What mattered was fixing the lives of the people in his pack.
Still, another question tugged relentlessly at his mind.
In this… situation with Lord Jethro, was he allowed to have a lover of his own? Or was he tied to him in a way he wasn't supposed to?
Almost immediately, he scolded himself. Lord Jethro had made it clear, over and over, that this was about the name. Nothing more. Which meant Grey was free. His love life was his own. He could do whatever he wanted with it.
There was no reason to ask such a stupid question.
Every time he imagined his future, his love life shaped by his own choices, there was never a woman in that picture, no matter how much he tried to force one there.
It always shifted and turned into a man.
Strong arms around him. Warmth that felt satisfying, grounding, soothing in a way he couldn't explain.
And this time, the image didn't remain vague. This time, the man in his vision was clear.
Grey wasn't just wrapped in a man's arms, there was a black trench coat draped around him, enclosing him completely.
He could even sworn he caught the faint scent of Lord Jethro's cologne.
The realization shocked and terrified him.
He shot to his feet so abruptly that the chair scraped loudly against the floor.
Lord Jethro was still standing by the window, and didn't even look back or even ask what was going on, hands tucked into his pockets as though nothing had happened.
Grey's heart pounded.
Had Lord Jethro heard that?
Was he hearing Grey's thoughts and intentionally ignoring them? Or had he heard nothing at all?
The uncertainty unsettled Grey deeply. Suddenly, he didn't want to be in the same room anymore. He moved quickly toward the office door, ready to leave, but just as he reached it, a knock sounded.
Since he was already there, he opened the door.
A guard stood outside, straight-backed and alert.
Behind him stood a priest.
The guard stepped away, leaving the priest to walk into the office after greeting Grey. Lord Jethro finally turned from the window and approached the priest as well, offering a brief greeting.
He gestured toward the seating area at the side of the office, where a small table and several chairs were arranged, then motioned for Grey to follow.
They all took their seats, and for a moment, the silence that settled between them felt heavy, as though none of them knew where to begin.
"Before we go through this," the priest finally said, his voice calm and careful, "My Lord, I would like to confirm that you have decided on the name of the certificate you wish to create between the two of you."
His gaze shifted slowly from Lord Jethro to Grey.
"The certificate must clearly state the nature of the relationship," he added.
Lord Jethro remained silent.
Taking that as permission to continue, the priest went on, his tone respectful but firm. "Everyone is right in what they are saying, my Lord. No matter how you attempt to frame this, it still comes across as a marriage."
Grey's shoulders stiffened slightly.
"You say that once Alpha Greystone carries your name, respect will follow, and that everything else he is meant to do will become easier," the priest continued. "But if the name itself is what grants him that authority, then it is only because people will inevitably see him as your wife."
Grey's breath hitched, though he said nothing.
"It will function in the same way a queen is respected because she carries the king's name," the priest explained. "The power does not come from the name alone, but from the relationship it represents."
He paused, as though choosing his words carefully. "I understand that this is difficult to explain, and I have no intention of complicating matters further. Perhaps it would be simpler if we simply referred to it as a marriage."
Grey's body went rigid.
"No," Lord Jethro said immediately.
The word was sharp, leaving no room for misunderstanding.
The priest inclined his head slightly, unfazed. "Then what would you like to call it, my Lord?"
Lord Jethro did not answer.
Silence stretched between them once more, thicker than before, settling heavily in the room.