Chapter 41 #2
Adrian is on the left. It doesn’t escape my notice that he’s sleeping with the pillow our omega used during his rut. Lying flat on his back—clutching it to his chest like it will fill the hole she left there.
Beside him, Jesse sprawls on his stomach with his head burrowed into the bed. Like he fell asleep trying to bury his face in whatever bits of Bridget are embedded into the mattress.
Carajo . Pathetic one and all, apparently.
I stomp to Jesse’s side of the bed and knee him in the side. His snore stutters. “Wha—Bridget? You okay?”
He turns his head toward the woman in my arms, sensing her stress before he manages to get both eyes open. The second he sees us, he jerks upright and reaches for her.
Ha . As if .
I hold Bridget closer and nod at the bed. “Move over. We’re coming in.”
Jesse’s mouth drops open in amazed disbelief. Like someone just woke him from a dead sleep to tell him he won the lottery.
“Really?” he asks, bleary green eyes brightening. He shakes his head at himself. “I mean—of course! Come here, Bee. Do you want to be between me and Adrian? Or me and Dante?”
Adrian rouses, grunting as he rolls onto his side. He doesn’t open his eyes. “Dante? Is Bridget okay?”
“She’s here,” I reply, bouncing our omega. “Say hi to Daddy, cupcake.”
Adrian bolts up before I finish teasing her. His arms also open automatically. “Bridget,” he says, rising to his knees. “Come here, baby girl.”
Fucking pack alpha bullshit . As soon as he flexes his dominance, I find myself handing our omega over. I would be more pissed off, but the total bewilderment on Bridget’s face is enough to gut me.
God, she really doesn’t think any of us actually give a shit, does she?
Un-fucking-acceptable.
I have to fix it.
“We should get Colt,” I think out loud.
Jesse blinks at me, thrown, and Bridget starts to protest, but Adrian meets my gaze. Something solid passes between us—an understanding. An agreement.
Respect, I think.
“Good idea.”
Jesse springs up. “I’ll get him.”
“For what ?” Bridget asks, her whine prissy and adorable. “I’m fine .”
Jesse growls every bit as fiercely as Adrian and I do. Our omega’s expression flicks back to astonishment as Adrian folds her against his chest and starts to pet her hair. “Little blue, your scent is practically gone. You’re not fine.” He purrs for her. “Were you lonely in your nest, sweetheart?”
Bridget stiffens. “Not lonely …”
She must realize how weak her protest sounds, because she doesn’t bother finishing. Instead, she turns her eyes to Adrian’s, and I admire the way they sparkle in the low light from the hallway.
“I-I’m sorry, alpha. I tried to sleep by myself, but with my heat coming?—”
Adrian nuzzles his nose against hers, humming. “Baby girl, I can barely sleep without you either.” He lies back, propping Bridget’s pillow under his head and gathering her in his arms. “Luckily, there’s a very simple solution.”
Our omega cuddles into his side, slanting a lost look up his torso. “What is it?”
Adrian cups his hand around her cheek. “From now on, you’ll sleep in here, with whichever of us you want.”
She blinks, absorbing his words. Her answer is halting and unsure. “But what if…”
You leave me? You remember this isn’t real? You find an omega whose scent is better?
I brace for any of the questions written on her face. But in the end, she says, “—I want all of you with me?”
Jesse reappears with Colt limping behind him. To my surprise, the long-haired bastard doesn’t look nearly as grumpy as usual. His gray eyes are tired, but they seek Bridget out immediately. When he finds her, he lumbers to Adrian’s side of the bed and sits next to them.
I don’t know if he’s ever touched Bridget before, but he stops himself with his arm extended halfway toward her. His jaw pops as he pushes through whatever halted him and rests his hand on her shoulder.
“Hey, Bubbles. You okay?”
Adrian’s right; Bridget’s scent is practically down to nothing. It doesn’t make sense. I’m used to lung-carving, mouth-watering sharpness when she’s upset. Not this subdued sort of sourness.
I bend to nose at her neck, trying to find her. Missing the way she usually cuts and then stitches me back together again. She freezes up when I scent-mark her bare shoulder. Perfume rises off her so fast, it makes me dizzy.
God, it’s perfect . And terrible . I’ve never experienced anything like it. So sweet and delicious—so sharp it feels like inhaling glass.
We all breathe deeper, our chests throbbing on labored pants and jagged purrs. Trying to understand. Trying not to rip our own lungs out or pounce on her.
Carajo . It’s everything . And it’s killing me .
What is happening ?
Bridget senses our bewilderment. The serrated edges of her scent slice deeper as she starts to squirm, trying to get away from Adrian.
“ Omega .” Our alpha’s bark halts her halfway out of his arms. She sniffles, and I die inside, seeing the tears that cling to her lashes. Before our Adrian can continue, I tackle Bridget onto the mattress and roll her into my body.
“ Corazón , none of us are mad . Or disappointed. You want us to fight to sleep next to you? I’ll arm wrestle any of these fuckers. Except maybe Colt. He and I can Thumb War instead.”
Jesse slides into place behind her, dropping a soft kiss to her head. “It’s just me, bumblebee. Don’t be embarrassed about your perfume or needing us close by. We love your body. And we want your Omega to feel safe.”
Is she upset that she’s perfuming? Jesse seems to think so. She’s done that so many times, though. Why would it upset her now? Or at all?
Anxiety is fucking exhausting, by the way.
My restless thoughts wind down as Adrian nods, pushing solid reassurance into the air. “They’re right, little blue. We’d all love to sleep with you.”
Bridget glances at Colt, waiting for him to reject her. But he only nudges Adrian’s shoulder with a mild eyeroll. “Move over, Boss.”
The little smile on our omega’s face isn’t nearly as luminous as her usual grin, but when she sniffs and hides the curve of her lips against my throat, I decide it just might be my favorite anyway.