Chapter 29
Elijah
She’s wearing my flannel.
Or what’s left of it—Ben destroyed the buttons, so it hangs open, barely covering her. Two bite marks on her throat. Milo’s on the left. Ben’s on the right. Her scent is layered with both of them now, chocolate and leather woven through her lavender and citrus.
But there’s still room for me.
Three years. Three years of watching her from across crowded rooms. Three years of building furniture for a pack I wasn’t sure would ever exist. Three years of loving her in silence because words have never come easy for me, and the ones I wanted to say felt too big to fit in my mouth.
I’m done being silent.
When Ben says “your turn,” I’m already moving. Crossing the room. Taking her face in my hands. Kissing her like I’ve been dreaming of for three years.
She melts into me immediately. Her mouth opens, her hands fist in my shirt, and she makes a sound against my lips, desperate and needy, that goes straight to my cock.
She tastes like Ben. Like Milo. Like herself underneath. Like pack.
I guide her down the hall without breaking the kiss. Past the guest room that smells like sex and satisfaction. To my bedroom at the end of the hall.
My bed. The one I built with my own hands. The headboard I carved with mountain peaks. The frame I made strong enough to last a lifetime.
Strong enough for this.
The door closes behind us. Moonlight spills through the windows. She pulls back from the kiss, breathing hard, and looks around.
“You made all of this,” she whispers. “The bed. The dresser. All of it.”
I nod. Words are stuck in my throat.
“It’s beautiful.”
You’re beautiful. I want to say it. Can’t make the words come.
So I show her instead.
I push the ruined flannel off her shoulders. It falls to the floor, leaving her bare. Two marks on her throat. Skin flushed from Ben and Milo’s attention. Slick glistening on her inner thighs.
Mine.
“Elijah...”
“I built this bed for you.” The words come out rough. “Three months ago.”
Her eyes go wide. “Three months...”
“Before I knew. Before any of this.” I step closer, my hands finding her waist. “Made the frame strong enough for a pack. Carved the headboard with mountains because you love the view from the overlook. Built it hoping someday you’d be in it.”
She kisses me before I can finish.
It’s not gentle. She kisses me like she’s trying to crawl inside me, her hands pulling at my shirt, her body pressing against mine. I let her strip me, shirt, jeans, everything, until we’re both bare.
“Elijah.” She’s looking at my body, my cock hard and aching. “Please. I need...”
I lift her. Carry her to the bed. Lay her down on sheets I made myself, in a room I built for this, for her, for pack.
She spreads her thighs for me without being asked.
I drop to my knees at the edge of the bed and bury my face in her pussy.
She screams.
I don’t tease. Don’t build slowly. That’s not how I work. When I build something, I build it with focus. Intensity. Complete attention.
I eat her the same way.
My tongue finds her clit and I work her relentlessly. No games. No teasing. Just focused, deliberate pressure exactly where she needs it. She’s slick—so slick—from Ben and Milo, and I can taste them on her, taste her, taste pack.
“Oh god...” She’s gripping my hair, pulling hard. “Elijah... Elijah...”
I push two fingers inside her and crook them hard.
She wails. Her back arches off the bed, her thighs clamping around my head. She’s so wet my fingers slide in like nothing, and I can feel Ben and Milo’s cum inside her, mixing with her slick.
Mine next.
“Please...” Her voice breaks. “Please, I need... need more...”
I add a third finger. Stretch her wider. She cries out, her whole body shuddering, and I feel her clenching around me.
“Elijah... please... I can’t... need you... need your cock...”
I stand. Climb over her. Position myself at her entrance.
She’s looking up at me with bright eyes and want written all over her face. My omega. My pack. Mine.
“Love you,” I manage. The words scrape out of my throat. “Three years.”
“I know.” She cups my face. “Show me.”
I push inside her with one long stroke.
We both cry out.
She’s tight—impossibly tight—even after Ben and Milo. Her body grips me like a vice, hot and slick and perfect. I bottom out and hold still, buried to the hilt, and for a moment I can’t breathe.
Three years of watching. Three years of wanting. Three years of building things for a pack I wasn’t sure I’d ever have.
And now she’s here. Wrapped around me. Mine.
“So full,” she sobs. “You’re so deep. Can feel you everywhere...”
I start to move.
I don’t talk. Don’t need to. My body says everything I can’t. Every thrust, every stroke, every grunt I can’t hold back. I worship her with my cock the way I’ve worshipped her from afar for three years.
“Yes...” She’s meeting me thrust for thrust, her nails scoring my back. “Yes, Elijah, harder...”
I give her harder. Pound into her until the bed frame groans, until she’s screaming, until nothing exists but the slick grip of her body and the sounds she’s making.
“Elijah...” She’s gasping, her nails scoring my back. “Please... need your knot... need it...”
Through the echoes of Tessa’s bonds with Ben and Milo, I sense their anticipation. Their want. The way their emotions pulse in time with mine.
The last bond. The one that completes the pack.
“Please...” She’s nearly incoherent. “Please, Elijah, need your knot inside me... need you to knot me... please please please...”
My knot starts to swell.
“Feel that?” I grind into her, the base of my cock stretching her wider. “My knot. Getting bigger.”
“Yes...” Her voice is wrecked, desperate. “Yes, give it to me, need it, need to be yours...”
“Already mine.” I thrust harder, my knot catching on her entrance. “Going to lock you to me. Complete the bond. Make us pack forever.”
“Please... Elijah... please...”
The knot swells fully. Stretches her impossibly wide. She’s screaming, shaking, and then it locks into place.
She shatters.
I’ve never seen anyone come so hard. Her whole body seizes around me, clenching on my knot in rhythmic pulses so intense I can feel them in my spine. I follow her over. Coming harder than I’ve ever come, pumping into her, filling her.
“Love you,” I gasp against her throat. “Tessa... love you...”
I find the back of her neck—the spot neither of them marked—and bite down.
The bond snaps into place.
And everything changes.
Not just Tessa flooding into me. Everyone.
Ben’s warmth, steady and amused. Milo’s satisfaction, bright with relief. Tessa’s overwhelming joy. And underneath, connecting us all, the bond itself, a four-way thread of light and feeling that ties us together forever.
I can feel them. All of them. Ben’s warmth, steady and sure. Milo’s satisfaction, bright with relief. Tessa’s overwhelming joy. Four hearts beating as one.
Pack. Complete. Finally.
“Oh god...” She’s sobbing, shaking. “I can feel everyone. All of you. It’s... it’s everything...”
I lick over the bite, sealing it, and a purr starts in my chest. Deeper than I knew I could make. The vibration rolls through both of us, and she goes completely boneless.
I hear footsteps in the hallway. Through the bond, I feel Ben and Milo’s need to be close. The pack bond pulling them toward us.
The door opens. They slip inside, already half-undressed, and I don’t tense. Don’t feel intruded upon.
They’re pack. They belong here.
“Room for two more?” Ben asks, but he’s already climbing onto the bed.
“Always.”
They settle around us. Ben at her back, pressing kisses to my mark on her neck. Milo at her side, his hand finding her hip. Four bodies tangled together on the bed I built for exactly this.
The pack bond hums with satisfaction. Four heartbeats syncing. Four scents mingling into something new.
Pack scent.
My knot finally softens enough to slip free, and she whimpers at the loss. I roll onto my side and gather her against my chest, still purring. Ben presses close behind her. Milo’s hand stays on her hip.
Four of us. Together. Finally.
“This is it,” Ben says quietly. “What I always wanted.”
“Me too,” Milo adds.
I don’t speak. Don’t need to. Through the bond, they can feel exactly what I’m feeling.
Home. Complete. Finally whole.
Tessa’s crying softly against my chest. Through the bond, I feel her happiness, so big it’s overflowing. Feel how safe she feels. How loved.
I built this house for a pack I wasn’t sure I’d ever have. Built extra bedrooms for packmates who might never come. Built a master bed big enough for four.
Now I have everything.
I keep purring until her tears slow. Until her breathing evens. Until she drifts toward sleep, surrounded by three alphas who will spend the rest of their lives showing up for her.
The fire in the living room has burned down to embers. I should check it. Should make sure the house is secure.
But I can’t make myself move. Can’t make myself leave this tangle of bodies and the soft pulse of the pack bond in my chest.
For the first time in my life, the silence feels full instead of empty.
I close my eyes.
Finally home.