Chapter 38 #2
I woke to the gray light of early morning and the sensation of being surrounded.
Reid was still pressed against my front, his face relaxed in sleep, years of tension smoothed away, his dark lashes fanned against his cheeks. One of his hands had found its way under my shirt during the night, splayed warm and possessive against my stomach.
Kol was plastered against my back, his arm still tangled with Reid's, his breath warm and even against the back of my neck, his sunshine scent soft with sleep. Sometime during the night, he'd thrown one leg over mine, pinning me in place like he was afraid I might disappear.
Nolan had shifted in his sleep, ending up curled around my head like a cat, his hand still resting in my hair. His face was soft, peaceful, the professional mask he usually wore completely absent, his lips slightly parted.
And Sawyer — Sawyer had moved from the foot of the bed sometime during the night. He was pressed against Kol's back now, one arm stretched across all of us, his hand resting on Reid's hip. Like even in sleep, he needed to be connected to the whole pack.
Bodies everywhere. Warmth everywhere. Scent everywhere.
I should have felt trapped. Should have felt suffocated by all the weight and heat and presence.
Instead, I felt safe. Cherished. Home.
I lay there for a long time, watching the light change, listening to the steady rhythm of four sleeping breaths, memorizing the feeling of being completely surrounded by the people I loved.
The people I loved.
The thought settled into my chest like it had always belonged there, warm and certain and terrifying all at once.
Marley's shop was warm and bright, filled with the scent of fabric and thread and the lavender tea she always had steeping in the corner.
"Look at you." She set down her embroidery hoop, her weathered face creasing into a smile, her sharp eyes taking in everything — my expression, my posture, the way I moved, the subtle changes in my scent. "You look different."
"Different how?" I settled into my usual chair, pulling out the project I'd been working on — a series of small, carefully stitched squares that would eventually become something bigger, my fingers finding the familiar rhythm of the needle.
"Settled." She picked up her tea, steam curling from the cup, watching me over the rim with knowing eyes, her voice warm with approval. "Happy. Like something finally clicked into place."
"Maybe it did." I couldn't help the smile that curved my lips, my fingers moving automatically through the familiar motions of threading my needle, warmth blooming in my chest.
"Mhmm." She set down her cup with a soft clink, her expression softening into something almost maternal, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "You smell like a bonded pack. Even without the marks."
I looked up, startled, my needle pausing mid-stitch, my heart skipping a beat. "I do?"
"Your scent's changed." She gestured vaguely at me with one weathered hand, her nose wrinkling slightly as she drew in a breath, her eyes closing briefly as she sorted through the layers.
"Used to be just you — honey and wildflowers.
Pretty, but alone. Now it's all mixed up with cedar and sunshine and pine and earth.
Like your scents have started to blend together. Like pack."
I hadn't noticed. Hadn't realized the change had been happening gradually, invisibly, every time one of them touched me or held me or surrounded me with their presence.
"Is that... normal?" I asked, my voice smaller than I intended, uncertainty creeping in, my hands stilling on the fabric. "Without the bond bite?"
"It happens sometimes." Marley picked up her embroidery again, her fingers moving with practiced ease, her voice matter-of-fact but gentle.
"When a pack is close. When an Omega spends enough time surrounded by her Alphas.
The scents start to merge. It's not the same as a proper bond, but it's a sign. A promise of what could be."
A promise of what could be. The words echoed in my head as I bent back over my sewing, my fingers moving through the familiar motions while my mind wandered.
The project in my lap was a secret. Something I'd been working on for weeks, stealing time at Marley's whenever I could. Four small pouches, each one carefully stitched with a different pattern — antlers for Reid, sunflowers for Kol, pine trees for Nolan, mountains for Sawyer.
Gifts. For my pack. For my Alphas.
I'd never made anything for anyone before.
Had never had anyone to make things for.
But ever since the nesting, ever since waking up surrounded by their warmth and their scent and their love, I'd felt the urge to create.
To give them something tangible. Something that said what I wasn't quite ready to say out loud.
"Those are coming along nicely." Marley leaned over to look at my work, her gray braid swinging forward, her eyes crinkling with approval as she examined my stitches. "Your stitches have gotten much more even."
"I had a good teacher." I held up the pouch I was working on — the one with pine trees, Nolan's — and examined my work critically, tilting it toward the light.
"Do you think they'll like them?" The question came out more vulnerable than I intended, my voice soft with uncertainty.
"Darling." Marley reached over, patted my hand with weathered fingers, her touch warm and grounding, her eyes soft with understanding. "Those boys would love anything you gave them. You could hand them a pile of rocks and they'd treasure it forever."
I laughed, the sound surprised and genuine, warmth blooming in my chest.
"They're good men." The words came out soft, certain, my eyes dropping to my sewing, my fingers resuming their careful work. "All of them. Even when they drive me crazy."
"That's love." Marley's voice was knowing, her eyes twinkling with wisdom, her needle moving in steady rhythm through her own fabric. "When someone can drive you absolutely insane and you still want them around. When you can see all their flaws and choose them anyway."
Love. The word settled into my chest, heavy and warm and undeniable.
"Yeah." I whispered, my eyes dropping to my sewing, my fingers suddenly clumsy on the needle, my heart beating a little faster. "I think it is."
The walk home was quiet, the early autumn air cool against my skin, carrying the scent of fallen leaves and wood smoke from distant chimneys. The ranch spread out before me as I crested the hill — the main house, the barn, the paddocks where horses grazed peacefully in the afternoon light.
Home.
The word felt different now than it had a few months ago. Bigger. Fuller. Weighted with meaning it had never held before. I paused at the top of the hill, looking down at the place that had become my world, thinking about the four men who had become my everything.
Reid, with his quiet strength and fierce protection, who had shown me what it meant to be claimed.
Kol, with his warmth and joy and endless capacity for laughter, who had taught me that happiness wasn't something to be afraid of.
Nolan, with his gentle hands and steady presence, who had healed wounds I hadn't even known I was carrying.
Sawyer, with his silence and his intensity and his hard-won trust, who had shown me that some things were worth waiting for.
Four Alphas. Four pieces of a puzzle I hadn't known I was solving. Four hearts that beat in time with mine.
I wanted them. All of them. Not just for now, not just for comfort, not just for survival.
I wanted to bond. To wear their marks, to carry their scents forever, to be theirs in the most permanent way possible.
The thought should have scared me. Should have sent me running the way I'd run from everything else in my life.
As I stood on that hill, watching the sun sink toward the horizon, feeling the lingering warmth of their scents on my skin and the steady pulse of their love in my chest, I felt nothing but certainty.
I want to bond. All of them. Forever.
The words stayed silent, locked behind my lips, not quite ready to be spoken out loud. But they were there, settling into my heart like seeds waiting to grow.
Soon, I promised myself. Soon I'll be ready to say it. When I did, I knew exactly what their answer would be.