Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
REID
I woke before she did.
That wasn't unusual — I'd been waking before dawn since I was sixteen years old, since before the ranch became my responsibility and sleep became a luxury I couldn't afford.
What was unusual was the warm weight pressed against my chest, the soft breath tickling my collarbone, the scent of lilac and honey mixed so thoroughly with my own that I couldn't tell where she ended and I began.
Aster.
She was curled into me like she'd been made to fit there, her face tucked against my neck, one hand splayed across my chest over my heart.
In sleep, all the wariness had melted away.
The tension that lived in her shoulders, the guardedness in her eyes, the way she always seemed ready to run — all of it gone. She looked peaceful. Safe.
My Alpha rumbled with satisfaction, a low purr building in my chest before I could stop it. Mine. The word echoed through me, primal and possessive. She was mine. She'd chosen me, come to me, let me touch her and taste her and hold her through the night.
I'd wanted her from the moment Nolan had told me about the feral Omega in our stable.
Wanted her more with every day that passed, every glimpse of the woman beneath the walls, every small moment where she let us in.
But I'd held back. Waited. Let her set the pace, because that's what she needed, and what she needed mattered more than what I wanted.
Last night, she'd come to me.
The memory of it hit me like a fist to the chest — her tears, her trust, the way she'd looked at me and asked me to make her feel good.
The sounds she'd made when I touched her.
The taste of her on my tongue, sweet and perfect, the slick evidence of her desire coating my lips and chin.
The way she'd shattered in my arms, crying out my name, her body clenching around my fingers.
I hadn't let her reciprocate. She'd tried, her hands fumbling at my waistband, but I'd stopped her. Last night wasn't about me. It was about replacing her nightmares with something good, about showing her what it could be like when someone put her first.
I was still hard. Had been half-hard all night, my body aching for release, but I didn't care. Having her in my arms, smelling my scent all over her skin, feeling her heart beat steady against my chest — that was worth more than any orgasm.
She stirred, making a small sound, and I held my breath. But she just nuzzled closer, her lips brushing my collarbone, and settled back into sleep. The trust in that simple gesture made something crack open in my chest.
I stayed there for another hour, watching the light change through the curtains, listening to her breathe, feeling her warmth seep into my bones. I could have stayed forever. Would have, if the ranch didn't need me.
Eventually, carefully, I eased out from under her. She made a soft sound of protest, reaching for me even in sleep, and I had to clench my jaw against the urge to crawl back in and never leave. Instead, I tucked the blankets around her, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and forced myself to move.
I pulled on jeans and a shirt, not bothering with buttons, and slipped out into the hallway. The house was quiet, but I could smell coffee brewing — Nolan was always the first one up after me.
I found him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a mug in his hands, his sandy hair still mussed from sleep. He looked up when I entered, and I watched his nostrils flare, watched his green eyes widen slightly as he caught the scent clinging to me.
Her scent. Mixed with mine. The unmistakable smell of intimacy.
"Reid." Nolan's voice was soft, careful, his green eyes searching my face as he set his coffee mug on the counter behind him, his grip on it tightening until his knuckles went white despite the neutral expression he was trying to maintain. "Good morning."
"Morning." I moved to the coffee pot, pouring myself a cup, giving myself a moment to figure out how to say this.
We'd talked about it — all four of us, years ago when we'd decided to form a pack, to wait for the right Omega together.
We'd agreed that when we found her, we'd share.
No jealousy. No competition. A true pack bond.
But talking about it and living it were different things.
"She came to me last night." I turned to face him, keeping my voice low, my hands wrapped around the warm ceramic of the mug.
Aster was still sleeping, but the others would be up soon.
"She had a nightmare. About one of the foster homes.
About a man who—" I stopped, my hands clenching around the mug so hard I was surprised it didn't crack, rage flooding through me fresh and hot at the memory of what she'd told me.
"She came to me for comfort. And then she asked for more. "
Nolan was quiet for a long moment, his green eyes steady on mine, his expression unreadable. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, and for a horrible second I wondered if we'd been wrong, if the jealousy would come after all, if this would break something between us.
Then his face softened into a warm smile, the tension draining from his shoulders, and he pushed off the counter and crossed the kitchen to grip my shoulder, his hand warm and firm through my unbuttoned shirt.
"I'm glad it was you first." His voice was sincere, his eucalyptus and honey scent warm with genuine happiness, no trace of resentment or envy anywhere in his expression. "She trusts you. You make her feel safe. That's exactly what she needed."
The tension I hadn't realized I was holding drained out of my shoulders, my breath leaving me in a rush. "You're not—"
"Jealous?" Nolan shook his head, squeezing my shoulder once before letting go and stepping back to lean against the counter again, picking up his coffee mug and cradling it in both hands.
"No. This is how it's supposed to work, Reid.
We're a pack. She's our Omega. When one of us makes her happy, we all benefit.
" His smile turned a little wry, his eyes crinkling at the corners, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice.
"Besides, I could smell how content she was from down the hall.
Her scent is... different this morning. Settled. Happy. That's all I want for her."
I nodded, some of the weight lifting off my chest, my grip on my coffee mug relaxing.
"I didn't—we didn't—" I rubbed a hand over my face, not sure why I felt the need to explain, the words coming out rougher than I intended.
"I didn't take her. I just... I wanted to make her feel good.
Show her what it could be like. She tried to reciprocate, but I stopped her. "
"Of course you did." Nolan's smile was knowing, fond, his green eyes warm as he looked at me over the rim of his mug. "Because you're Reid. You'd set yourself on fire to keep her warm." He took a sip of his coffee, then lowered the mug, his expression turning thoughtful. "How is she this morning?"
"Still sleeping." I couldn't help the softness that crept into my voice, the way my chest warmed at the thought of her curled up in my sheets. "She looks... peaceful. I don't think she had any more nightmares."
"Good." Nolan nodded, his sandy hair falling across his forehead, his expression shifting into something more clinical, more analytical. "That's good. She needs rest. Her body is still recovering from years of suppressants, and emotional exhaustion can—"
Heavy footsteps on the stairs cut him off.
A moment later, Sawyer appeared in the kitchen doorway, his broad frame filling the space, his auburn hair sticking up in all directions, his pale blue eyes still heavy with sleep.
He stopped when he saw us, his nostrils flaring as he caught the scent in the air, his sharp gaze moving from me to Nolan and back again.
Something shifted in his expression — understanding, maybe, or recognition. He gave a single nod, his jaw tight, his rough features settling into something that might have been approval.
"Good." The word came out rough, gravelly, his voice like rocks scraping together, carrying more weight than its single syllable should have been able to hold. His pale eyes met mine, steady and sure, and I saw no judgment there, no jealousy — just acceptance. "She needs that."
That was it. No questions, no demands for details. Just acceptance. Just trust. Just pack.
Sawyer moved past us to the coffee pot, his movements economical and precise, pouring himself a cup with hands that dwarfed the mug.
The three of us stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the only sound the gurgle of the coffee maker and the distant call of birds outside.
This was what we'd built together over the years — this wordless understanding, this ability to communicate without speaking. This pack.
The silence was broken by a thunder of footsteps on the stairs, and then Kol burst into the kitchen like a golden hurricane, all messy blonde hair and sleep-rumpled clothes and barely contained energy. His amber eyes were wide, bright with excitement, practically glowing in the morning light.
"Is it true?" His voice came out breathless, eager, his words tumbling over each other as he bounced on the balls of his feet, looking between the three of us like he might explode if someone didn't answer him immediately.
"I could smell it when I woke up — her scent is all over you, Reid, and your scent is all over the hallway outside your room, and—" He stopped himself, visibly trying to rein in his enthusiasm, his hands clenching at his sides, his whole body vibrating with the effort of holding still.
"Sorry. Is she okay? Are you okay? What happened? "
"She's fine." I couldn't help the small smile that tugged at my mouth, Kol's enthusiasm infectious even at six in the morning. "She came to me after a nightmare. Things... progressed. But she's okay. She's still sleeping."