27. Chapter 27
27
The snow hit that night and fell until it covered the house in a heavy blanket of suffocating white. Ruck laughed at my owlish eyes as I walked down the stairs. The light pierced through the glass, muted but clear. The sitting room was undeniably cozy.
I intended to go back to bed, to take the excuse the snow gave to rest the day away. But now I was glad I got up. Three alphas lounged in the sitting room, and I’d never seen them so relaxed. Before, there was always work to be done. Or their bodies were already driven for hours, and I mistook exhaustion for languidness.
Ruck stretched out on the couch, his long legs dangling off the side. I hovered in the doorway, admiring them all for a moment. Oliver hugged the armchair closest to the fire. It was unofficially my seat. The orange flames flickered like family so close to his fiery hair. Hale stuffed another slow-burning log on the fire. There was no need to parcel them out. We gathered plenty of wood stacked in neat piles in the kitchen. There was no sign of Bram, but I guessed he was doing what I planned. Laze.
My omega instincts roared with approval as I stepped into the dark, warm room.
“Good morning, Esta.” Ruck surprised me, cracking one eye open as I padded inside.
I wore a simple wool dress with thick, long socks, my sewing basket hooked in the crook of my elbow and another pair of socks rolled into a gray ball. I needed to darn a small hole in them. Ruck shifted on the couch, flinging his legs off one half. But I had already decided where I wanted to sit. It was just a matter of doing it .
I was challenging myself to try the idea of being a pack.
Here, shielded by snow, muted by shadows. Oliver unfolded with wordless invitation, chest rising with small, rapid spurts when I came to a stop in front of him. My stomach flooded with soft warmth, and I braced my hand on his spread knees, smothering a smile as I maneuvered myself on his lap.
“That was an option? Next time, come sit on me, darlin’.” Ruck clicked his tongue as Hale stole the space he left on the couch. Coziness wrapped around me, the fire, a steady push of heat that turned my cheeks red. And the warmth from Oliver, throbbing up through my legs from the press of his solid body. I rubbed my fist over my hinged mouth, wriggling with a sigh as Oliver let me find my comfort. My basket dropped beside the armchair and I brought the socks onto my lap. I would get to them, eventually. A log popped as the flames found its weak spots.
“How did you sleep?” Oliver asked, a secret rumble in my ear. I let it roll through me, knead out the tension I nursed over propriety or overstepping. Oliver bowed his arms around me.
“I slept well,” I lied.
The snow brought new challenges, and my bed seemed too big under the expanse of the glittering stars in the black ice sky. My anxious turns tangled the covers, and I hadn’t the strength to make the bed when I crawled out of it this morning.
Growing up, I’d always had a strange relationship with my bed. I craved endless pillows and soft blankets, and they had to be arranged just so . As I got older, the urge became stronger, but my father hated the mess.
Every day, my strange creation was torn apart and made neat again.
I’d managed to push down the urge here, the tea seeming to help curb the need. But now, with the cozy beckoning of winter, I itched to make it right.
It missed the scent of alpha so much that I couldn’t relax. I even floated the idea of knocking on one of the closed bedroom doors, drawn by the mix of faint scents that swirled in a tantalizing tease. Oliver and Ruck were bunking in the sitting room, and they’d rolled up the sparse mattress and rugs into the corner. I contemplated sneaking their clothing like I had in the past.
But I didn’t need to hide. All I had to do was ask.
Hale tilted his head, a minute movement but one that made my pulse kick start. “The bags under your eyes say something different.”
Ruck slapped his brother with a flat palm and shot him an incredulous look.
“You can’t say things like that,” he insisted, but I wasn’t offended.
I sank my cheek into Oliver’s chest and listened to his heartbeat. It evened mine out. His scent wrapped around me, and I knew this was what I’d been missing last night. Something changed since my heat. Deep inside, the very cells of my body became changelings, and now they craved the touch of all three alphas, which needed them more than they needed space and silence.
“You know my ma had a whole room for her nest. I noticed you don’t seem to have one.” Oliver’s chest rumbled.
“I don’t…” Something niggled in the back of my mind. The omegas at church had talked about nests. Hidden behind their hands, another thing they had to hoard in silence. Like if the humans knew, they might take it too.
“What’s a nest?” Ruck asked, saving me the embarrassment.
“It’s a room for omegas to feel safe in.” Oliver stroked my arm. “Ma had one and she’d add to it all the time, soft furnishings, pillows. It had to smell and look just right. Always soft and dark. Did you never have a nest growing up?”
“I liked my bedroom dark. But my bed had to be made each morning.” I hummed softly, “there was one spot my father let me have. It was a window seat in a sitting room. I used to cover myself in blankets and watch the world go by.”
Hale made a noise, but I refused to look at him.
“Everything my mother learned about omegas came from human doctors. I’ve never been a model omega, never had the chance. I’m just bumbling my way along this path.”
“You’re perfect, Esta.” Ruck swiped away my misgivings with a smile.
“You have all winter to experiment, Esta,” Hale added.
“But what about last night? Were you too cold?”
“I was…”
It was harder than I expected to ask for what I wanted. Ruck caught the flush creeping up my neck and stretched on the lounge with a smile that could cut through butter.
“Lonely?” His smile widened as the word hung between us, the implications of it. I opened my mouth and closed it. Hale’s jaw ticked, seeing a problem he couldn’t solve. His body could warm mine easily, and once, I hoped for it with a fervent prayer. But what lay between us would not soothe the anxious sleep I suffered through last night. The pain he’d dealt me was like nails and broken shards of glass.
The idea of touching him cut too deep.
“Perhaps tonight, one of you could join me.” I rushed the words out, embarrassed but mollified as Oliver squeezed my leg. Ruck tucked away his leering smile, but the glitter in his eye remained.
“It would be our pleasure.” He raked his hand through his hair.
“And you?” I swiveled to look at Oliver.
“I would hold you until you told me to stop. It would never be me who pulls away first. I can promise you, Esta. Now, darn your socks and relax. The snow is here, and we won’t be going anywhere.”
I took his advice, letting the wide expanse of his chest prop me up, and the lick of the fire soften the tension in my muscles. Oliver kept one arm locked loosely around my waist. His fingers stroked intermittently. My consciousness sifted in and out like the shadows on the wallpaper. Bram joined us for a time, his chatter passing in one ear and out the other as I snuffled in Oliver’s tender hold. It didn’t occur to me to be more subtle around the boy.
“Sweet star, I don’t want to wake you, but I need to get up.” Oliver rustled me slightly, and I made a plaintive noise. I wanted to stay coiled in the cocoon I’d made of his body. Drunk on his spiced wine scent. Oliver hoisted me up, steadying me with a gentle hold as my legs found their bearings once more. The snow-covered half the window, and frost did the rest. Only meager, blue-tinged light glinted through the cold glass. It would have been gloomy, except the sitting room was a furnace.
No, it was home.
My home.
And I was infinitely thankful to be sitting here rather than anywhere else in the world.
Oliver’s lips twitched when he pulled away, and my hand hovered in the air in protest.
“Oh, yes.” Ruck’s chuckle was thick with sleep. “I’m going to love snuggling with you tonight.”
Ruck and Hale were battling for the couch, their legs tangled and arms flung in abandon. Hale won the larger slice. His legs spread wide in victory. His head tipped back over the couch, and his mouth hung in a soft snore. It seemed we all snoozed away the day.
“Where is Bram?” I asked, padding after Oliver.
“He’s sleeping upstairs, and we won’t see him until tomorrow. Why don’t you wait for me in the kitchen? We could save our sleep for tonight and cook something sweet for dessert?”
The promise in his words made me shiver, not from the cold. Underneath my ribs swelled a hope that fed into my soul, a longing that didn’t linger because I knew it would be quenched.
“Ok,” I whispered and hurried into the kitchen, dragging my eyes from his round buttocks and broad back.
I fed the oven fire some kindling, the small bank of coals having survived our neglect. It was enough to warm the room, but the cold crept in, making me wrap my shawl tighter around my body. I lifted the trapdoor to the root cellar and pulled out the bowl with apples. They’d been soaking in water since yesterday to bring moisture and plumpness back. We’d dried many fruits and vegetables before winter, and there was still plenty in the sawdust-filled barrels. Back in the kitchen, I chopped the apples, careful not to nick myself on the sharp blade. Oliver filled the doorway, and I flushed under his blatant perusal, squirming as he stalked around the bench.
“Are you warm enough in here?” His fingers coasted over my lower back. I nodded, and we fell into a companionable silence, creating a pile of thin apple slices. His fingers coasted over my lower back each time he passed. I shot him a sidelong look.
“Are you making excuses to touch me?” I teased him. The crinkles around his eyes deepened. He ran his flour-covered fingers down my cheek.
“Do I need an excuse to touch my omega?”
My breath hitched as the corner of his lips tipped up. My chest was full to burst at his possessiveness. Part of my brain loudly insisted this was wrong, but it sounded an awful lot like a human named Daniel. The part of me that said this was right was deeper inside, sunk in the marrow of my bones. Where nothing was wrong. It was eternal sunshine, making me glow from the inside out. I gathered the peels, tapped the bench and tossed them in the fire. An offering, one given in full knowledge this time. Oliver gave me a little nod, thick with approval.
Oliver rolled out the pastry, and we filled the pie together.
“I think it’s ready to cook.” He balanced the pie in one hand and slid it into the oven.
“Now what?” I asked, breathless with nerves. Being in this small room, sucking down his scent, made me muzzy-headed and hungry for something other than pie. Instead, Oliver pulled out a letter from his pocket. The envelope was creased, but I recognized it immediately.
It was the letter I had written to him when I had left.
“Could you read this for me?” His fingers shook as he held it out. Unopened, but the flap was torn a little in the corner. Like he’d spent a long time contemplating the words inside. My stomach sank, taken back to a moment of desperation.
“W-what do you mean?” I asked. Heat rushed into my cheeks as Oliver’s chin hit his chest.
“I ain’t that sharp. Ma didn’t send me for schooling, and I never learned to read proper. But I’m trying my best. Bram is helping me.”
The envelope crinkled as I scrunched it in my hands.
“I didn’t know. But Oliver, n-none of that matters now,” I stuttered.
Oliver wrapped his large hands around mine, looking down at me with such solemn, soulful eyes.
“It matters a heap to me. It’s the only note I ever got. And it’s from you to lil’ old me.” His grin cracked me open, and I read it to him. He wanted my words, whatever I could give him.
“Dear Oliver, I should use Mr. Foxhound, but I can’t bring myself to write the name, let alone speak it. Not with what we’ve experienced together. I want to thank you for everything, but that might take a long time. You were sweet to me from the first, bringing me something for my sore hands. I thought I’d offended you. I overheard you saying you loved me at the end of my heat. I’m sorry for any distress that time may have caused. I want you to know I have a place for you in my heart as well. I wish you joy and a woman you can love fully one day. You are a wonderful, kind alpha and I feel blessed to have known you. Kind regards, Esta Miller.”
My throat tightened, and Oliver took the sheet from my trembling hands. He cupped the side of my face, and his thumbs brushed away tears.
“You mean that?” His soft, slow croon made me melt.
My back pressed against the floury bench as Oliver backed me into it. I’d only ever drunk one glass of wine, and it was watered down. Still, it made my limbs light, veins glow with velvet heat, and turned half my words into giggles. Oliver’s scent had the same effect.
“Which part?”
“About the space in here.” Oliver slid his hand over my heart, cocked his head as it beat hard declarations against my ribcage.
“Oh, yes,” I whispered, and Oliver pressed his lips to mine in a sweet, warm kiss. He swallowed my gasp and gave me a low moan of his own. The kiss turned heated, and Oliver pulled away, panting. His face was twisted in desire and awe.
“I’m fixing for the taste of something sweet while we wait.”
Oliver flipped me around and pressed me onto the floured bench. I protested for a moment, the dress had been clean this morning. But his sharp growl made me quieten, only to squirm against the determined press of his hips on my ass. He gathered up my skirts, and flour puffed around my mouth as I moaned in vocal agreement. His questing touch found its way between my legs, and he nudged my quivering thighs apart.
“Please, Oliver.” I shocked myself with the whine in my tone. His thick fingers danced against my slick pussy lips, not dipping between them like I craved. His full weight pinned me to the bench as he gathered my slick.
“Call me your alpha.” His touch whispered, and I knew if I didn’t obey, he would remove it. I didn’t hesitate. Did he think I wouldn’t? I’d wanted Oliver, even when I couldn’t admit it to myself, and now I had him. Enough to gorge myself on.
“Please, alpha, I need you.” His weight wrenched back with a violent burst, and I let out a needy cry, only for him to press me onto the bench with the flat of his palm. Flour coated my cheeks as I stared back at him while he undid his trousers with fierce, careless fervor. My eyes widened as his straining length poked out from under his shirt, the base swelling with need. For me. Saliva pooled in the cavern of my mouth, drooling as he lifted my skirts and notched himself at my entrance. The pressure of his weight returned and pushed the oxygen from my lungs. I didn’t need it. Not with the slide of him inching inside of me. My ribs quaked with delicious, heavy control. I was giving my sweet giant everything right now. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to stop myself from crying out. Ruck and Hale were sleeping in the other room, and Bram was upstairs. The last thing I wanted was anyone walking in on us. But that didn’t mean I wanted him to stop. I arched my ass up, cheeks flushing at the wanton action.
“You pull me in. My beautiful star.” Oliver’s breaths came in short, rough pants as he filled me completely. His hands gripped my inner thighs, tugged me open to his slow, sensual entrance. The feel of him was glorious. A slow rock that made sparks twine around my spine.
I tasted flour and sugar as my open mouth gaped against the kitchen bench. This was an unraveling. A slow surrender and generous gift. I took everything he offered. Slick ran down my thighs, and the sweet scent of sex flooded us until we turned animal. Near silent grunts and the wet slap of flesh. My tongue was hostage between my teeth. Iron coated it as pleasure climbed steadily. My lungs ached for a full breath, but I couldn’t manage it. Not as Oliver’s weight stole my ability, and I wasted oxygen on soft moans and helpless pants. His fingers kneaded my heated flesh, and he muttered how good I felt, like a prayer.
“I-I love how you feel in me.” I gasped as his knot pressed against my hungry lower lips.
“You do?” The low, unbelieving tone made me falter. I turned my head to look at my alpha. Sweat peppered his brow, and his pupils ate up the brilliant green of his gaze. He was so stoic, but not with me. Everything he kept tucked away, all the lust bled out of him like an animal roar. “Gods, yes, you make me feel like I’m melting,” I admitted, breathless.
His thrusts turned rough. The grip of his fingers marked me with bruises. I wanted them and his knot, which he ground against me. My legs shook as I stood on my toes to give him the access he needed to lock me to him.
“You make me feel like I’m alive.” He stared unseeing at the ceiling, lost in the pleasure of our joined bodies.
The drag of his cock inside robbed all logic, scrambled all sense, and the tongue I’d tried to stifle loosened. We forgot about staying silent, encouraging each other with desperate moans. The kitchen bench creaked under Oliver’s desperate pace. Each slam of his hips seemed to make the ground tremble underneath me.
“I love you.” My heart lit at the admission, and Oliver stuttered for a moment.
The truth.
What I’d been too guilty to write in my letter.
His knot slipped inside of me. His hands ran up my tingling sides, stroking my face. Disbelief swam with sheer joy.
“I love you,” I repeated.
Oliver, who came to me silent and determined when my hands cracked and bled. Who watched the stars shoot across the sky and wished for me, even though everything in our society said it was wrong. The alpha who kept my goodbye letter because it was something I’d given him.
What could be wrong with this? We were like trapped stars, scorching a glowing path across each other’s bodies. I knew Oliver would always be there to catch me. He was midnight. Quiet, glorious beauty that needed searching for. My gaze might have taken a moment to adjust to the shadows he hid himself in, but now I saw him like a blaze of silver.
“I love you.” We said it together this time.
Mine a key, his a lock. Our words bound us like mirrors to our bodies. I bucked my hips back, hungry for the release he’d stoked in me. Joy made him languid, and his thrusts became soft and deep. He ground his hips against me, heat throbbing through every inch. We were wrapped in a cocoon of our devotion. When he came, it was with a low cry, and I clenched around him in response. His weight pinned me down, and I sucked in desperate, low breaths.
“I want to mark you one day. I need to make you mine,” Oliver whispered, and my pussy gripped him. His hands slid under my chest, and he hugged me.
“I am yours,” I told him, and it was the truth.
Thoughts of Hale and Ruck flared in my mind. There was a brief moment of shame, remnants of my upbringing. But Oliver crushed my body to the bench, his lips seeking mine. He kissed me sweetly until the shame withered. There was only love between us, and Hale understood I needed more than he could give. The idea of being bonded to Oliver, even Ruck, was something I craved. I needed these alphas, and they needed me, too.
A low cough at the doorway interrupted our moment. Satisfaction made me slow, but I could only smile when Ruck and Hale poked their heads inside the kitchen.
“Do you need me to check on the pie?” Ruck sniffed, gaze turning predatory when he caught the scent of our actions in full. “I see you stole an extra dessert.”
Hale stepped into the kitchen and pulled out a cloth, running the corner down my cheek. I didn’t allow myself to flinch. Oliver was holding me to his body, no visible embarrassment. Only soft, proud ownership.
“You have flour on your face.” My husband whispered, and I met his eyes boldly.
I could take my pleasure with his brothers. He’d begged it of me and them. But Hale wasn’t upset. The only thing anchored deep in his hazel eyes was regret. Bitter and bright. My chest ached only for a moment, but then I remembered the long, lonely nights when I prayed for his forgiveness.
This was my pleasure and his atonement.
“Check on the pie, would ya, Ruck? I’m stuck in a slice of heaven.” Oliver told him, so matter of fact, that I smothered a laugh. Ruck whistled as he squeezed behind, and a wave of heat hit us as he checked the dessert.
“Coming along nicely,” he proclaimed. It should have felt awkward, with Oliver locked inside me and his brothers watching on. But my chest felt light as a bubble, and I floated under their collective gaze.
“A pie to celebrate new beginnings.” Hale thumped his fist on the bench decisively.
I hummed my approval. It wasn’t forgiveness, but it was a shift. We were building a fresh path, and Hale was right. Moments like this made the change.
I was ready for the adventure of it.