* * * *
Armand’s plane
Late Sunday evening
Out of necessity, the reception was short. Everyone was packed and ready to fly to Anchorage by two. The flight to Anchorage was four hours. Julio tapped a straw on the bar.
Richard was spending the whole flight so far on Julien’s lap, and Henri wouldn’t let go of Vitas’ hand. Finally, the other Mates had enough.
“Richard, you have the rest of your now very long life to sit on Julien’s lap, and Vitas is just as sappy as you are and hasn’t even been mated yet. We want to get to know Vitas. So, both of you get your asses over here and have a drink with us,” Julio demanded. “It’s only a four-hour flight. You can be plastered together for the rest of the night.”
Vitas gazed up at his Alpha who nodded. Vitas followed Julio to the dining area across the plane from where the Alphas gathered at the bar.
“How big is this plane?” Vitas asked Julio.