44. Emmeline
My hospital room smells like antiseptic and joy.
I’m tired, so tired, but it’s the best kind of tired I’ve ever known.
My whole body aches in the aftermath of birth, but my heart is full to bursting as I cradle my son to my chest. He’s so small, so perfect, with tufts of dark hair and the softest pout I’ve ever seen.
His eyes are closed, his breathing soft. I can’t stop watching him. I can’t look away.
The nurse told me to try and get some sleep, whilst he’s sleeping now. But how can I even blink, when all I want to do is look at him?
“We made that,” Uri murmurs, his voice thick and raw. He smells like pure awe, and it’s so tempting. “ You did that.”
Sterling brushes a hand over my hair as he sits on the edge of the hospital bed. “He’s gorgeous,” he says, voice reverent. “Absolutely gorgeous.”
“Does he have a name?” the nurse asks gently. She’s filling out some forms.
I glance at my pack who all nod, and then I smile down at our little boy. “His name is Dellan. Dellan Opus Sinclair.”
“Sinclair?” Paxton demands, his voice sharp and confused. “I thought?—”
“You’re his dad too, bro,” Uri says, with a smile. “And we talked about it. Our kids, they’ll be Sinclair’s. It matters more to you, than it does to any of us.”
“What about your parents?” Paxton asks, gently.
Uri puffs out his chest, radiating with pride. “They were the ones to suggest it.”
Paxton blinks back tears, shaking his head, and I wish I wasn’t in pain, or that I was willing to let someone else have a hold of my tiny human, so that I could comfort him.
Instead, I stay here, buried under the scents of my pack, and holding my little boy.
My perfect, adorable, little boy.
“So, are we happy with that?” the nurse asks, and I startle. I forgot she was here. “Dellan Opus Sinclair?”
“Yes,” I say, rocking him. “That’s my boy.”
Paxton leans over my shoulder and kisses the top of Dellan’s head. “Welcome to the world, Dellan Opus Sinclair.”
The nurse slips away quietly, and for a moment, the room is still. Sacred. Full of love, and warmth, and pack.
But the second the door opens again, I flinch. My scent spikes, sharp with warning, and I wrap my arms around my son. My purr is vicious, which is quite comical.
Uri steps between me and the door instinctively, but he doesn’t tense, not like I do.
“It’s okay,” Pax murmurs. “It’s just Lia and Evander like we asked, remember? They’re just coming to see Dellan”
Odelia barrels into the room with Evander close behind, her arms already halfway open like she’s about to dive across the bed. She freezes when she sees my face, and the way Uri is guarding me.
“Oh,” she says, soft and wide-eyed. “You’re still very… omega.”
I nod tightly, adjusting my grip on Dellan. “Don’t come too close yet. I… I don’t trust myself. I just need him close, and you guys not .”
Evander laughs. “Really, Em?”
“Don’t,” Paxton says, calmly. He shakes his head, when my brother frowns. “Your sister is feeling very possessive, and you need to remember that her baby is hers .”
“I’m not going to take him,” Odelia says quickly, hands raised. “I swear. I just want to look.”
“You can come look.”
I feel so ridiculous, every time I look away from him. But the moment he moves, or makes a sound, these possessive urges seem grow stronger.
Odelia edges closer, avoiding touching any of my alphas and the emmet she sees my son she beams with happiness. “Oh, Emme, he’s gorgeous. So small, so perfect.”
“Isn’t he?” I coo, lifting him slightly to show her. She’s not a threat—she’s an omega, like me. She won’t touch him. She won’t do anything wrong.
“How much does he weigh? I thought he’d be a little bigger.”
“Don’t say that to my vagina,” I mutter, and she giggles, as my brother’s scent sours in revulsion. I ignore him for now. “He’s five pounds three ounces.”
“He’s beautiful.”
Evander leans on the back of a visitor chair, tilting his head.
“He’s perfect,” he whispers. “Holy shit, Emme. He’s got your nose.”
“And Uri’s eyebrows,” Odelia adds, wiping at the tears in eyes. “The good eyebrows, obviously.”
I laugh, but the sound cracks halfway through. My throat’s too tight. Everything’s too much. The moment they walked in, something shifted in me—my whole body feels like a live wire.
“He smells like me,” I whisper. “Is that stupid? He smells like me, but sweeter. I can’t stop breathing him in.”
“No,” Sterling says, his voice a balm against my fraying edges. “That’s not stupid. That’s instinct.”
My scent blooms again—overripe and frayed at the edges. Too sweet, too strong, like I’m trying to coat the entire room in mine mine mine .
I know that we asked for Odelia and Evander to be here so that we can share this moment with the people we’re trusting with something so precious. But I’m struggling to remind myself of that.
Uri leans in carefully. “Want me to grab the scent blankets from the overnight bag?”
“Yes,” I whisper, nodding. “Yes, please. And—can you fix the pillows? I think—I need to make a nest. Just a small one. Just here.”
“I’ll handle it,” he says, already moving. “You just hold our boy.”
Paxton presses his forehead to mine, scenting gently along my jaw. “You’re doing so good, omega. So good.”
I shiver. That word—it goes straight to my chest.
Evander watches from a respectful distance, hands still tucked in his hoodie pockets. “You know, I was gonna come in here and make a joke about your maternity leave starting the same day I join your company, but now I feel like if I say one sarcastic thing, someone will tear out my spleen.”
“I would do it and then eat it,” Uri says evenly, not looking at him as he rifles through the bag.
Odelia snorts. “It’s a miracle you’re even letting us be here. I’m not going to say a single thing that will get me thrown out.”
“You’re his godparents,” I murmur, still cradling Dellan close. “You belong here.”
Evander blinks, his scent thickening, a sweet aroma clinging to him. “Wait—what? You want… you want me to be his goddad?”
Sterling tosses a pillow onto the bed and flashes a grin. “Surprise.”
Odelia gasps, her eyes filling with tears again. “You’re serious?”
I nod, blinking back my own. “You’re the people I trust most in the world. You’re my family—our family. Dellan deserves you if anything were to happen to us.”
For a second, the whole room is full of sniffling and no one wants to admit it.
Evander clears his throat. “Okay, but now I definitely need to be funny or I’ll cry. So, uh… can I put ‘CEO’s Godfather’ on my new business cards? Because that feels like a promotion worthy of a pay increase.”
Odelia throws a tissue at him. “You’re insufferable. The moment you find your omega, I’ll die of shock.”
“No dying,” Oscar commands.
“And yet, I’m deeply lovable,” Evander says, waggling his brows. “You did good, Emme.”
I blink again, and my eyes sting. I feel like I’m made of leaking emotions and warm milk and an irrational need to make the hospital bed into a blanket fortress. It’s awful here, even with our own fabrics and materials.
I just need to get him home, in the right nest, in the right place. He’ll be far happier there.
Uri adds another pillow to the corner and lays a scent cloth across the top. “Try this. See if it feels right.”
I settle back with Dellan in my arms, inhaling his scent and the blended comfort of my pack’s. A bubble of warmth curls in my belly.
“I want to stay here forever,” I say, eyes fluttering closed. I keep a tight hold on my son, not worried about anything any more.
“You will,” Uri promises. “We’re not going anywhere.”
I hum in agreement, rubbing my cheek against Dellan’s soft hair, already feeling a little calmer with the nest half-built beneath us.
“I’m not either,” Odelia says. I look over to her, half-asleep, confused. “I’m not doing the trial, Oscar.”
His head snaps up from where he was fussing with the blanket at my feet. “You’re what?”
“I’m done, Os,” she repeats, gentler this time. “No more clinical trials. No more experimental treatments. I want to live. Really live. And I want to be present—for him,” she says, tipping her head toward Dellan. “For all of you. For me.”
He stares at her, speechless. His scent shifts first—panic, then disbelief, and finally, cautious hope.
“You really mean that?” he asks quietly.
She nods. “Yeah. I do.”
Oscar swallows thickly. “Okay. Then I’m… I’ll learn to deal with it.”
The tightness in the air softens, and I brush a soft kiss to Dellna’s head.
“Okay, you can have a quick hold, whilst I pee,” I say, as the urge to empty my bladder overwhelms me. “Fight over him when I leave the room.”
“I never thought I’d ever be scared of you,” Evander says, with a laugh. “But I am.”
“Let me help you,” Uri commands, gently moving the blankets from me, before scooping me, and Dellan up into his arms. My baby doesn’t get jostled, and he doesn’t move.
So sleepy, so perfect.
I kiss his head again, before handing him to Sterling. My beta mate won’t let a thing happen to our son.
Uri carries me into the bathroom, and I don’t hear a peep from the people in my room. Oscar follows us in, flicking the light on as Uri moves towards the toilet.
My nerves are frayed, my scent so thick, if it were visible, we’d see a fog clouding around me.
My body trembles, and I hate that I have to rely on them to do this.
“Out you go,” I demand, giving both men a dirty look.
Oscar smirks. “Not the first time, love, and it won’t be the last. Out you go, big guy. I can watch her.”
Uri frowns. “I don’t care about listening to you pee. I can carry you.”
“And so can I,” Oscar says, rolling his eyes. “Out.”
Uri trudges out of the room, and I huff as Oscar steps in closer, helping me shuffle the last few inches toward the toilet.
“I can do it,” I grumble.
“I know,” he says softly, steadying me as I lower myself down with an undignified wince. “But you don’t have to.”
The second I sit, I feel it—pressure and sting and relief all at once. The tears hit me before I can stop them, slipping down my cheeks without warning. The pain is sharp, but it’s not the worst part.
It’s the helplessness that gnaws at me.
Oscar crouches beside me, brushing his thumb beneath my eye. “Hey, you’re okay.”
“I don’t feel okay,” I whisper. “My body doesn’t feel like my own.”
“I know,” he says, softly. “But just think about our adorable son, the one you grew, you’ve nourished, you’ve loved. He’s the reason for all this pain—and he’s worth it.”
I squeak as I pee, but I nod. “He is.”
The moment I’m done, Oscar grabs a clean cloth from the sink— one of ours, not the scratchy hospital ones —and wipes me gently, murmuring soft things I can’t even process over the rush of embarrassment and affection.
I hate how tender he is.
I love how tender he is.
But down there is a disgusting blood bath, and nobody should ever have to look at it. Least of all, the man I love.
“I’m leaking,” I mumble, looking down at the wet patches on my shirt.
He follows my gaze and grins, his dimple flashing. “Looks like someone’s hungry.”
“Don’t you dare,” I warn, swatting weakly at his chest.
“I didn’t say who ,” Oscar teases, catching my hand and kissing my fingers. “But I’m so excited to get a taste. I’ve always wondered what it’s like.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“I’m obsessed with you,” he corrects, helping me up again. “Get used to it.”
I wobble slightly as I stand, and he catches me without comment. I wash my hands thoroughly— twice —scrubbing them practically raw, so that I don’t harm him.
Oscar watches me, his expression unreadable.
“You’re going to be a good mum,” he says softly. “You already are.”
I don’t reply. I can’t. Not without crying again.
When he scoops me up in his arms, I let him. I bury my face in his neck, breathing him in. The room is warm and quiet when we return.
Uri’s in the rocking chair, cradling Dellan with the most ridiculous look on his face—like someone handed him the stars and the moon. He’s humming, so low and deep it vibrates in the air, and I don’t think he even realises he’s doing it.
Odelia’s poised perfectly on the visitor’s chair, her grey eyes shining with happy tears. She smiles when she sees me, all soft cheeks and omega pride.
“He yawned,” she whispers. “And then he squeaked. He’s perfect, Emme. So perfect.”
I melt. Oscar lays me down gently in the nest of pillows and scent cloths, tucking a blanket around me like I’m the baby this time. I don’t mind. I feel cradled. Protected.
Uri looks up, like he can’t bear to not be there for me, but there’s a hesitance like he doesn’t want to let go of Dellan.
“He smells like you,” he says.
“He does,” I whisper.
Sterling rises to pass Dellan back, but I shake my head. “Not yet. Let him have his moment.”
Sterling smiles. “Our boy’s going to be so loved.”
“He already is,” Odelia says, softly.
Paxton glances at the clock, then at the exhausted chaos of our makeshift nest, and makes a low, alpha noise. “Alright, I think that’s enough excitement for one afternoon. My omega needs rest, and Dellan does too. Hospital discharge is in a few hours, but for now… you two can go home.”
Evander opens his mouth to argue.
“Don’t,” Paxton says calmly. “You’ve been officially godfathered. That’s more than enough wins for the day.”
Evander grins and raises his hands in surrender. “Fine. But only because I’m afraid Uri will actually eat my spleen.”
Odelia leans over the bed, careful not to touch me or the nest. “We’ll check in later, okay? I love you.”
“I love you too,” I whisper. “Thank you. For everything.”
They leave quietly. The door clicks shut behind them, and for the first time since the birth, the room feels quiet again. Safe. Private.
Sterling smooths a hand down my arm, and Uri strides over to give me my son back. He roots against my chest, and I pull the gown open, so he can latch.
“Try to sleep now, omega,” Sterling says, gently. “We’ll take care of the rest.”
I curl a little tighter around my son, surrounded by my pack, tucked into the threads of their scents and warmth, and I close my eyes.
This is my family.
This is my nest.
And I have never felt more whole.
“ Emme, baby, your phone just buzzed,” Sterling says, reaching for the device. “Want me to take him so you can deal with it?”
“It’ll just be my dads. It’s fine,” I say, waving him off. “I can call them once we’re home.”
The nurse is just getting my medications, and then we can leave. I’m so fucking excited. Dellan’s fast asleep. His car seat is ready, but I refuse to put him in it, until we’re leaving.
“No, I think this is important,” Sterling says, shaking his head. He passes my phone to me.
I frown, glancing at the screen to see a confidential email come through. What the fuck?
“Here, you can take him.”
I gently hand my tiny boy over to his daddy, and watch carefully to make sure Sterling has a good grip on him.
I don’t want to micromanage, but I’m extremely tense about sharing, and right now when he’s still so new , I just need him here, with me.
“What is it?” Uri asks. I don’t understand the knowing tone in my mate’s voice, or the amusement that’s clinging to him like a second skin.
I key in my password, and open up the email. My heart is in my throat, anxiety fluttering in my tummy, but the moment I read the words, I burst into laughter.
“You’re such a dick,” I mutter, causing him to laugh. “I love you.”
“I love you more,” he says, beaming at me.
I look back down at the email, and warmth fills me. Nine months ago, these words started it all. And now? Well now I have a son, a pack, and a life I never thought I was worthy enough to have.
Subject Line: Your time-off request has been denied.
Emmeline,
Your time-off request has been denied.
Just kidding.
Today marks the first day of motherhood, my little dove, and your maternity leave begins.
Don’t let yourself carry anything that isn’t love.
We’ve got the rest.
—Uri
I press a hand over my mouth, breath catching. I don’t cry… I sob. Not because I’m sad. But because this… this is everything.
My mates all shift around me with the quiet ease of a pack that knows how to look after their omega.
Sterling rubs my back. Oscar brushes a kiss to my temple. Paxton leans in and breathes me in like he needs to ground himself in this moment too.
And Uri? Uri just watches me with soft eyes and that same quiet smile that undid me the very first time he said my name like it mattered.
“I don’t deserve you,” I whisper.
“You made a whole person,” Uri replies. “You made us a pack. We’re the ones who don’t deserve you .”
I take Dellan back into my arms, curling around him. He stirs against me and lets out a tiny yawn that’s too big for his body.
“My baby,” I murmur. “My everything.”
He squeaks in response, and all of us melt like we’ve never seen anything more miraculous in our lives.
The nurse comes back in with a clipboard and a smile. “All set. Ready to go home?”
I glance up at my pack.
My family.
My forever.
“Yeah,” I say, voice thick with joy. “We’re ready.”
Our nest might’ve been formed by accident…
but loving them?
Loving him ?
That was always on purpose.