Chapter 24 Rose
Rose
I can feel her.
I forced my omega to sleep. I locked her away, boxed her up tight. But something shifted tonight, and now… everything feels different.
There’s no single moment I can point to. Nothing loud or obvious. But I feel it.
My sense of scent still isn’t all the way back, but I can smell the alphas now—lightly, faintly, like they’re across the room even though I’m right next to them. Only them, though. No one else. Which is strange.
We’re on a wagon ride through town and we have the whole wagon to ourselves. It’s, pulled by two massive horses with wreaths around their necks. Christmas lights glow on every storefront, and snow crunches under the wheels.
Kai’s hand hasn’t left mine since the tree lighting. He keeps squeezing gently, like he’s reminding me he’s still here. Still real.
Wyatt’s on my other side, passing me bites of some homemade candies he picked up from a vendor. I don’t even know what they are—maybe peanut brittle? They’re sweet, and I don’t care.
Across from me, Logan and Evander sit close together. Evander keeps playing this stupid game of footsie—except every time the wagon jerks, his boot brushes up my calf.
I thought it was an accident at first. Then he winked on the third time. Now I’m doing it back. We’re basically just being children about it, but it makes me laugh. So I let it happen.
Harlan’s next to Evander, typing something on his phone.
Maybe it would irritate some omegas. But I’ve gotten to know Harlan these last few days. If he’s on his phone, it’s not boredom—it’s purpose.
And that’s oddly comforting.
The omega inside me whines, soft but insistent, wanting all of our alphas’ attention at once. I swallow hard. Then again.
My skin feels prickly, too tight, like I’ve been poured into the wrong body. I don’t feel hot, thank god, so it’s not a heat spike, but something’s happening. Something I don’t understand.
Harlan’s eyes snap up from his phone, as if he senses it before I even move.
“Starlight, what’s wrong?” he asks, slipping his phone into his pocket and leaning forward to rest one big hand over my knee.
Every alpha’s gaze lands on me. My pulse pounds in my ears. I bite my lip, trying to find words.
“I’m— not sure?” It sounds weak, even to me.
A rush rises from my core, hot and sharp. For a horrifying second I think I’m going to be sick, then a high, helpless omega whine breaks through my lips.
My face goes up in flames. I wish the wagon would split open and swallow me whole. Anything would be better than sitting here surrounded by five startled, too-attentive alphas.
Then they’re all moving.
Kai tightens his grip on my hand. Wyatt slides an arm around me, pulling me against his chest like I’m fragile. Evander drops to his knees in the narrow aisle, one hand on my knee, the other covering Harlan’s.
“Candy, baby—god,” he breathes.
Logan silently presses his cup of water into my hands.
“Sorry,” I manage, trying not to make another sound as I take a sip.
“The medication’s wearing off,” Harlan says, low and certain. “There’s nothing to apologize for.” He signals to the driver, his tone sharp enough that the poor man jolts and immediately turns the wagon around.
The alphas murmur soft words meant to ground me, their hands drawing slow circles along my back.
Harlan’s voice is steady as he promises to call their personal doctor first thing in the morning.
They ask if I need one now, but I shake my head.
I don’t feel good, but I can breathe. It’s not an emergency. It’s just… a lot.
When we get out of the wagon, Wyatt doesn’t even hesitate. He scoops me up like it’s instinct.
“I can walk,” I protest, squirming, though my heart does a strange, soft twist in my chest. I’m not a delicate omega. I have curves, weight, solidity. But Wyatt carries me like I weigh nothing Like I’m something precious. He limps a little but I wouldn’t dare mention it.
“I can also carry,” he says, his voice a low rumble that slides right down my spine.
And he does. Effortlessly.
I stop fighting and let it happen, tucked against his chest as the world moves around me.
By the time we reach the car, the awful buzzing under my skin has faded, leaving only exhaustion and the sticky aftertaste of embarrassment. We pull into the driveway and go into the house.
“You okay, Rosie?” Kai asks, his brows pulled tight as his eyes sweep over me.
I shrug weakly. “Just tired,” I admit. “I think I’m going to head to bed.”
The alphas exchange looks. Then Harlan steps forward.
“You don’t need to be embarrassed, Starlight,” he says gently. “Your body’s adjusting after an experimental drug. There are going to be side effects. Promise me—if anything happens, even something small—you’ll tell us. We can’t help you if you hide it.”
His tone leaves no room for argument, but there’s nothing in it except care.
I take a shaky breath. “I will.”
“Promise?” Evander insists, holding out his pinky.
I roll my eyes, but can’t stop the smile tugging at my lips. I hook mine around his. “Promise.”
He tugs me forward by the pinky and folds me into a hug, pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head.
When I finally leave them in the living room, my legs feel heavy, my nerves wrung out like I’ve been running for hours. The bed is neatly made, someone must have done it earlier, and the soft comforter and mountain of pillows look impossibly inviting.
The restless hum of my newly awake omega lingers beneath my skin, but fatigue wins.
I change into a camisole and shorts, slip beneath the covers, and fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.