Chapter 15
“Alright, sweet girl, there we go. Are you comfy?”
Dolly’s big black eyes peer out at me from under the fuzzy pink blanket I’ve draped over her, and she snuffles as she settles down on her bed. I press so many kisses to her head that she starts to grumble, but I can’t help it.
I’ve always been a bit of a baby when it comes to Dolly.
Every time she seems sick, I wonder if this is the end.
Sometimes, on nights when she’s snuggled up next to me in bed and being particularly sweet, I get sad thinking about her not always being with me.
The dog is only six, but you never know how much time you’ll have.
When I bury my face against her tummy and let out a heavy, relieved sigh, her little front paw presses against my cheek. I release a watery chuckle. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop. But you’re not allowed to get sick again. My heart can’t take it.”
To be fair, she wasn’t even that sick. Of course, the minute we got to the emergency vet, Dolly perked up, barking at the staff and putting on a friendly, wiggly show when the vet came into the exam room.
I could tell the vet was side-eyeing me a bit as an overly cautious pet parent.
I can’t help it that I’d rather be careful than assume everything is okay, only to have my dog croak because I didn’t take her to the vet.
After they checked her vitals and determined that Dahlia has the equivalent of a stomach bug, they gave her some subcutaneous fluids and anti-nausea meds.
Probably a waste of time and money, but whatever.
All that matters to me is that she’s well enough now to act annoyed that I’m smothering her with love.
I sigh and give her one more kiss, then pull the blanket over her head so she can rest. Dolly releases a sigh to match mine, able to relax now that she’s burrowed in her bed.
Like a total sap, I sit next to her instead of getting up, wanting to be nearby in case she gets sick again. She’s totally fine now, but I’m on edge. Not just from her bout of nausea, but from missing the launch party.
I was the only member of our pack with an actual invitation to the event. Which, shit, I’m sure my boss is wondering why the hell I didn’t show up. I need to text her and let her know about Dahlia getting sick, but that can wait until the morning.
Lauren must’ve put River and Ambrose’s names on the guest list, right? She endorsed our plan to talk to Camille, so it wouldn’t make sense not to let them into the party. Unless she didn’t think she’d need to put them on the guest list since they were my plus-ones.
Anxiety surges in my gut at the idea that the plan was ruined because I wasn’t there. But no, I need to calm down. They wouldn’t leave the second they got turned away at the door. They would’ve figured it out.
My bonds with Ambrose and River have been a riot of intense emotions, so god only knows what’s going on.
The last thing I heard from them was Ambrose checking in to see if there was news about Dolly and to let me know he’d run into some traffic.
I don’t even know if River showed up. I have to assume that he did, based on their bonds flaring at the same time.
Fuck, I hope I didn’t ruin our chances by not being there tonight. Camille has always been the most relaxed around me. Ambrose comforts her, but he’s also her scent match, so he amplifies her omega’s needs, which can bother her. I’m not just her lover; I’m her friend. Or I was.
Dammit, I want to hop on my bike and race over to the party.
I hate not knowing what’s going on, and a ridiculous, illogical part of my brain tells me I’ll be excluded from the pack if I’m not there.
I know that isn’t what’s happening, but after years of Ambrose and River doing things together as mates, and me being the third-wheel, it’s a sore spot.
Forcing myself to unclench my jaw and roll my shoulders, I do my best to accept that my pack can handle this. I shut my eyes and suck in a deep inhale, reminding myself that I’m a vital member of this pack and they’re not excluding me.
Everything is okay.
Everything will work out.
The sound of the front door opening startles me out of my self-soothing meditation, and I jolt up to my feet. Dahlia stays asleep, the anti-nausea meds zonking her out, so I whisper to her that I’ll be back, then race out of my room and down the stairs to see who came in.
“Hey, did everything go okay—”
I skid to a stop as I round the corner into the hallway, my heart leaping up into my throat at what I see.
Camille is standing in our entryway, Ambrose’s arm wrapped around her waist as she leans against his shoulder, with River flanking them. I only have a second to take in her disheveled state and, holy fuck, the pheromones coming from the three of them, before she’s rushing toward me.
Instinctively, I open my arms, and she enters them with a mix of a whine and a purr that makes my chest ache so much I’m afraid I’m having a heart attack.
She nuzzles against my chest and throat, scent marking me frantically, like she’s worried someone might try to steal me away from her at any moment.
“Hey, gorgeous,” I croak, holding her against me as my throat goes tight, her softness and scent like a dream. I’d hoped we’d be able to convince her to talk, but this…
She whines softly, and I finally notice how hot her skin is. My blissful bubble bursts, and I pull to search her flushed face.
“Are you okay? Is she okay?” I look up at Ambrose and River, who are watching me and Camille with a strange tension. Their bonds thrum with need and concern.
I’ve seen that look many times before at the omega clinic. My stomach flips as I focus back on Camille, who runs her hands up and down my chest. “Oh shit, you’re in heat.”
“It’s most likely a heat spike, not a full-blown heat,” Ambrose says, in that calm doctor voice he gets when people are freaking out. “I need to run a few tests to get a better picture of what’s going on.”
The omega mapping me with her hands groans, and her expression twists into an apologetic frown. “I’m sorry,” Camille murmurs. “I don’t have any right to touch you like this, but my omega is going to have a meltdown if I stop.”
A strangled laugh bursts out of me. “Gorgeous, don’t you remember what I told you when we first met? You can touch me as much as you want. However you want.”
“But…” Her brow furrows, and I can sense an apology I really don’t want right now about to leave her mouth.
We can talk through things later, when a heat spike isn’t making her omega feel vulnerable.
“No buts. Well, except mine. My butt is yours to do what you want with.”
River raises a brow and Ambrose snorts.
“Not like that!” I add, but Camille’s lips twist into a frown, so I continue. “Or I guess, sure, like that if that’s what you want. I’m not opposed to butt stuff under the right circumstances.”
Laughter bursts from Camille at my babbling, and I grin down at her with a dopey, devoted sigh. Making her laugh soothes my raw nerves, giving me hope that it isn’t just the heat spike pushing her to be here.
“We can save the ‘butt stuff’ for another time,” she teases, giving my ass a quick squeeze before wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me down into a kiss. I expect it to be sloppy and needy, given her current state, so my knees almost buckle at the soft, apologetic press of her lips.
I grip her tighter to keep myself anchored, following her lead as she kisses and kisses me, each one growing deeper, until she’s released whatever was holding her back and kisses me like she needs my mouth on hers to survive.
My dick presses insistently against her soft belly, and she lets out a breathy moan between kisses, sliding her hand down toward my erection.
Ambrose clears his throat, reminding me that we’re still standing in the entryway and my packmates are watching. “I’d like to run those tests as soon as possible.”
Camille’s cheeks are flushed, her pupils shot from arousal, but she manages to stop rubbing against me with only a small whine.
I smile indulgently at her, squeezing her hip. “Don’t worry, gorgeous. As soon as he’s done playing doctor, we can do anything you want.”
She nods. “Y-yeah, okay. That makes sense.”
We separate, and Ambrose takes her hand, guiding her toward the living room. After a few steps, she freezes, a look of horror crashing over her face.
“Dolly! Is Dolly okay?? Oh god, Jackson, I’m so sorry. I saw you, and your scent made my mind go fuzzy, and all I could think about was being close to you.”
I shake my head, resisting the urge to rub at the warm, expanding sensation in my chest. “Dolly is fine. She’s upstairs, resting comfortably and on some good meds.”
“Can I see her?” Camille’s hesitant question makes me melt even more.
“Of course you can. Let’s go check in on the little lady real quick, and then we can go take care of those tests.”
As soon as I open the door to my room, Camille rushes inside and over to the dog bed in the corner. I know logically that her omega is making her more worried and protective than usual, but god, I love how much she cares.
The lump under the blanket shifts, and a puppy snout peeks out, sniffing.
Camille bursts into tears as my sweet little lady’s face appears.
“Oh my gosh, I’m glad you’re okay. I missed you so much, and I don’t know what I would’ve done if anything had happened to you,” she blubbers, stroking Dolly’s head as the dog gives her a sweet, sleepy nuzzle of affection.
Well, fuck, if I wasn’t already desperately in love with this omega, I sure as hell am now.
I watch, besotted, as they have their tearful reunion. I know we have a lot to figure out, but at this moment, I can’t imagine anything other than us all ending up together.
Camille gives Dolly a kiss and tucks her back under the blanket, then rises. “Okay, sorry, I’m ready for whatever tests you need to do. I think maybe whatever was going on has passed, so they might not even be necessary. I can go home and—”
“No,” River interrupts her. It’s the first time he’s spoken since they’ve arrived, and the adamance in his tone surprises me. His posture is rigid as he stands outside the door to my room, like he’s worried about coming into my space. Or getting closer to Camille.
Camille’s brow scrunches, but Ambrose speaks before she can respond to River’s command. “We’ll take you home if you’re uncomfortable being here, but please at least let me do the tests before you go.”
“Let the dirty doctor do his tests, Cami,” I say, infusing teasing into my tone to try to get her out of the worried headspace she’s slipping back into. “If you don’t, he’ll be a menace, checking up on you via text every five seconds the moment you’re out of sight.”
Ambrose huffs, but Camille’s frown goes away. “Alright.”
She lets us lead her to Ambrose’s bedroom down the hall, but hesitates in the threshold. “It’s not that I’m uncomfortable…” she murmurs, unable to hold any of our gazes. “I don’t want you to think I expect things to go back to how they were because I needed your help with my heat spikes.”
“They won’t.” River’s adamance makes her wince, and I shoot him a “what the fuck, dude?” glare that has him blanching. “Things before weren’t healthy. I made a lot of mistakes and…” He swallows hard, his jaw setting in determination. “We won’t go back to that.”
Camille’s face softens. “Okay.”
I want to ask what that “okay” means.
Okay, we’ll start fresh and make this work?
Okay, she agrees the dynamic was unhealthy and doesn’t want to try again?
Now isn’t the time to press her. She says she’s feeling better, but when I squeeze her hand before she follows Ambrose into his room, her skin is too hot.
I’ll wait to see what our alpha doctor’s tests say, but if my experience with omegas holds true, Camille is going to need more before the spike breaks.
Even with the uncertainty of what happens after, I’m desperate enough to hope it’s not over yet, because that means I’ll have a chance to be with her again.