34. Sadie
Sadie
S ix weeks after bonding, I stare at the pregnancy test in my hands and can’t stop the grin that spreads across my face.
Two pink lines. Clear as day.
I’ve suspected for the past few days—the exhaustion that Reid noticed, the way certain scents have been making my stomach turn, the subtle changes in my body that I kept telling myself were just stress. But seeing the confirmation makes it real in a way that steals my breath.
We’re having a baby.
I press my hand to my still-flat stomach, wonder and joy bubbling up inside me so intensely it makes my eyes water.
After everything—thinking I wasn’t meant to be bonded, convinced I’d spend my life helping others find love while staying on the sidelines—here I am.
Mated to three incredible alphas and carrying our child.
Through our pack bond, I feel a flutter of curiosity from downstairs. Levi’s cooking dinner, and I can smell something involving garlic and herbs that normally would have me gravitating toward the kitchen. But right now, I need a moment to process this miracle.
Our baby. Growing inside me. Safe and loved already.
I take a shaky breath and clean up the bathroom, tucking the pregnancy test into my sweater pocket. Dinner conversation tonight is definitely going to be interesting.
When I make it downstairs, all three of my alphas are in the kitchen. Reid’s setting the table with his usual precision, Caleb’s opening a bottle of wine, and Levi’s stirring something that smells incredible despite my suddenly sensitive nose.
“Perfect timing,” Levi says, glancing up with that soft smile that always makes my heart skip. “Chicken marsala with roasted vegetables. Your favorite.”
“Smells amazing,” I manage, though the wine Caleb’s pouring makes my stomach do a small flip. “Actually, could I just have water tonight?”
“You feeling okay?” Caleb asks immediately, alpha concern sharpening his scent. “You’ve seemed tired lately.”
“I’m perfect,” I say, settling into my usual chair. “Better than perfect, actually.”
Through the pack bond, I feel their collective attention focus on me with laser precision. Reid pauses in arranging silverware, Levi turns from the stove, and Caleb sets down the wine bottle to really look at me.
“Something’s different,” Reid observes, his keen eyes cataloging details. “Your scent...”
“Sweeter,” Levi agrees, abandoning the stove entirely. “Richer. Like honeysuckle in full bloom.”
“Sadie?” Caleb’s voice carries that alpha authority that means he’s not accepting evasion. “What’s going on?”
I pull the pregnancy test from my pocket and set it gently on the table between us. “This is what’s going on.”
For a moment, complete silence. Three alphas staring at two pink lines like they’re trying to decode a foreign language.
Then Levi’s fork clatters to his plate. “Is that...?”
“Positive,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. “We’re having a baby.”
The explosion of love and joy through our pack bond hits me like a tidal wave.
Pure alpha pride and protective instinct and overwhelming happiness that makes my eyes fill with tears.
Reid’s bergamot spikes with possessive satisfaction, Caleb’s sandalwood turns warm and woodsy with fierce protectiveness, and Levi’s cedar carries so much tender emotion I can barely breathe.
“A baby,” Reid breathes, wonder in his voice as he reaches for the test. “Our baby.”
“How far along?” Caleb asks, immediately dropping to kneel beside my chair, his large hands hovering over my stomach. “Can I...?”
“About six weeks, I think. I see Dr. Barker tomorrow to confirm everything.” I take his hands and press them flat against my belly. “I suspected after what Reid noticed, but I wanted to be sure.”
“The scent changes,” Reid murmurs, moving behind my chair to nuzzle into my neck. “Your body was already getting ready.”
“Already protecting our baby,” Levi adds softly, joining Caleb on the floor. His voice goes rough with emotion. “Growing our little one.”
The possessive way he says ‘our little one’ sends heat straight through me. Through the bond, I feel their absolute certainty—this isn’t just my pregnancy, it’s ours. Completely shared, completely ours.
“Are you happy?” I whisper, though their emotions flooding through our bond already give me the answer.
“Happy?” Caleb’s voice is rough. “Sadie, I’ve never wanted anything more in my whole damn life.”
“We’re gonna be parents,” Reid says against my throat, his breath warm. “All four of us, raising our baby together.”
“A real family,” Levi whispers, his forehead pressed to my thigh.
I thread my fingers through his hair, feeling his contentment vibrate through our connection. “The absolute best family.”
“I’m calling Dr. Barker first thing tomorrow,” Caleb announces, already shifting into full alpha protection mode. “Making sure you get the best care.”
“And I’m researching cribs,” Reid adds, still nuzzling my neck. “That spare room gets perfect morning light, but we’ll need to think about acoustics...”
“And I’m cooking whatever you can keep down,” Levi promises against my leg. “Any craving, any time. Even if it’s pickles and ice cream at three AM.”
The overwhelming love I feel for them—and feel from them through our bond—makes my throat tight. “I love you all so much it hurts.”
“We love you too,” Reid murmurs, pressing soft kisses behind my ear. “You and our baby. Always.”
Dinner gets forgotten as we spend the next hour talking about nursery colors and baby names and all the dreams we never knew we shared.
Through the pack bond, their absolute devotion wraps around me like the warmest blanket, and I can feel how much this means to each of them—Reid’s quiet joy, Caleb’s fierce protectiveness, Levi’s tender wonder.
This child will grow up surrounded by more love than I ever imagined possible.
Two weeks later...
The Thanksgiving festival is everything I hoped it would be, but my body has completely different plans.
I’m barely two hours into setup when the nausea hits like a freight train. Not the gentle morning sickness I’ve read about—this is full-body revolt that has me gripping my booth’s table edge while trying not to vomit on my prize arrangements.
“Sadie?” Lila appears at my elbow, immediate concern in her voice. “You okay?”
“Fine,” I lie, then immediately contradict myself by lurching toward the nearest trash can.
“Oh honey,” she says with instant understanding, rubbing my back as I dry heave. “How far along?”
“Eight weeks, according to Dr. Barker,” I gasp between waves of nausea. “This is normal, right?”
“Completely normal and absolutely miserable,” she assures me. “I’m at twenty-eight weeks now and still get occasional waves. Dean nearly lost his mind during the first trimester trying to find anything I could keep down.”
“Mrs. Anderson wants to discuss Christmas wedding flowers,” Levi says, appearing with coffee that makes my stomach lurch violently.
“Take that away,” I beg, covering my nose. “The smell?—”
He immediately dumps the coffee and moves upwind, concern radiating from his scent. “Better?”
“Much.” I straighten slowly, trying to regain some dignity. “Sorry. Pregnancy hormones are apparently not compatible with festival crowds.”
Within minutes, both Reid and Caleb appear at my booth with the kind of focused concern that would be overwhelming if I weren’t feeling so terrible.
“Why didn’t you tell us you were feeling this sick?” Reid asks, immediately checking my forehead for fever.
“Because it just started this morning,” I say, leaning into Caleb’s solid warmth when he settles beside me. “And because we have customers?—”
“Fuck the customers,” Caleb says bluntly. “You’re pregnant and sick. That takes priority.”
His alpha authority makes something settle in my chest. Not the independence I’ve been clinging to, but the relief of letting someone else take charge when I’m not capable.
“I brought crackers and ginger ale,” Levi says, producing supplies from somewhere. “And called Dr. Barker to confirm this level of nausea is normal.”
“You called my doctor?” I ask, touched by his thoroughness.
“Of course I did. You’re carrying our baby.” The possessive pride in his voice makes my heart skip. “I’m not taking chances with either of you.”
The next few hours pass in a haze of managed nausea and overwhelming pack protectiveness. They rotate duties—Reid handling customers while Levi feeds me crackers and Caleb rearranges our entire booth to minimize my exposure to triggering scents.
“There are my girls!” Maeve Bennett’s voice cuts through the festival noise as she approaches our booth with a determined stride, carrying a wicker basket that smells like heaven. “Both of my pregnant omegas in one place. This is exactly what I needed to see.”
“Maeve,” I say weakly, though her motherly presence is exactly what I need right now.
She immediately sets down her basket and moves to feel my forehead with practiced hands. “You look peaked, sweetheart. When did you last eat something that stayed down?”
“About two hours ago,” I admit. “But the crackers are helping.”
“Crackers,” she snorts dismissively. “You need proper nutrition. I brought ginger cookies—my grandmother’s recipe, settled many a queasy stomach in this family.
” She turns to examine Lila with the same critical eye.
“And you, young lady, are you taking your vitamins? Getting enough rest? You’re carrying precious cargo. ”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lila says with obvious affection. “Dean makes sure I eat and sleep.”
“Good boy. Knew he had sense.” Maeve turns back to me, pulling items from her basket.
“Now, Sadie, I made you some peppermint tea blend—it’ll help with the nausea.
And there’s bone broth with ginger that you can sip when nothing else appeals.
These pregnancies are giving me something to fuss about properly. ”
Through our pack bond, I feel my alphas’ amusement and affection at Maeve’s motherly takeover. She’s become the unofficial grandmother to every pack in town, and seeing her this excited about our babies makes my heart warm.
“Both my grand-nieces or grand-nephews,” she continues, one hand on my shoulder, one on Lila’s. “Lord knows this town needed more babies. Between Julian’s spreadsheets and your boys’ protectiveness, these children are gonna be the most prepared and loved babies in Montana.”
“Thank you, Maeve,” I say, genuinely touched by her care. “I don’t know what any of us would do without you.”
“Starve, probably,” she says briskly. “Now, you eat one of these cookies and I’ll check back in an hour. Both of you girls need to come by the bakery this week—I want to show you the new recipes I’m testing for baby-friendly finger foods. Never too early to start planning proper nutrition.”
As she bustles away to continue her festival rounds, River Brooks appears with his usual golden-retriever enthusiasm, pulling Levi into a quick hug before turning to beam at me. “Heard the news—congratulations! This is so exciting.”
“Thanks,” I manage, grateful when he doesn’t comment on my obvious green tinge.
After chatting for a few minutes about the baby, River heads off to check out other booths, and I’m settling back into my chair when a young woman with short dark hair approaches.
“Sadie Quinn,” she says with a grin. “I’m Bea Wilson—you used to babysit me when I was about eleven.”
“Bea!” I say immediately, memories flooding back. “Look at you, all grown up. I heard you were back from college.”
“Yeah, trying to figure out what’s next.” She glances around the festival, then back at me. “Heard about your pack—congratulations on the baby. That’s really exciting.”
“Thanks. Are you staying in town?”
“For now. Looking for work while I decide if I want to stick around.” Her smile falters slightly. “My ex is here today trying to get back together, so I’m mostly hiding out and enjoying the festival.”
“Ugh, ex drama. Well, you’re welcome to hide here as long as you want.”
“Thanks, I might take you up on that.” She starts to move away, then pauses. “It’s really good to see you, Sadie. Congratulations again.”
As she disappears into the crowd, I notice River watching from a nearby booth, his attention clearly caught. But he doesn’t approach—just goes back to whatever he was doing with a thoughtful expression.
Through our pack bond, I feel my alphas’ recognition that we’re watching something important happen—curiosity mixed with protective instincts, and underneath it all, hope for their friend.
After they move on to other booths, I catch my alphas exchanging meaningful glances, and through our bond I feel their shared amusement and affection.
“Interesting girl,” Reid observes.
“Very interesting,” Caleb agrees, his protective instincts humming through our connection. “River’s got it bad.”
“Think she’ll stay in town?” Levi asks, though I can feel through our bond that he already knows the answer.
“I think,” I say carefully, then have to pause as another wave of nausea hits, “that Honeyridge Falls has a way of giving people exactly what they need, even when they’re convinced they don’t want it.”
The festival continues around us—families celebrating together, businesses thriving, a community that’s become home to an ever-growing collection of pack bonds. Despite feeling terrible, I’m surrounded by more love and support than I ever imagined possible.
As we pack up our booth with several thousand dollars in new orders, I understand that the florist who thought she wasn’t meant to be bonded has become the center of something beautiful and lasting.
Our baby will grow up surrounded by pack love and community support, with other pack children as playmates and extended family bonds that will shape their entire life.
Even if I spend the next month throwing up, it’s worth it.