What if—
I may have slightly miscalculated.
As I hold my breath, waiting for my alphas to react to my announcement, I begin to wonder if perhaps this wasn’t the best time to spill the beans.
Honestly, I mostly waited because I wasn’t totally sure.
My logical mind told me all the signs were there—I’ve had headaches and nausea every morning.
I missed my “courses” weeks ago—though, thankfully, the guys were distracted by all the omega selection craziness and bought my excuse that sometimes stress can delay humans’ cycles.
I just wanted to make sure my Omega wasn’t insane—because, yeah, she knew from the very night it happened. And hasn’t shut up about it.
Dumb bitch.
I love her.
She also, inexplicably, knew it was Zolkan’s. According to her, it just makes sense. He’s the Prime Alpha—and his packmates have been good sports about letting him knot me first every time we engage in, um, group activities.
You know. For the good of the planet.
My Omega harrumphs at me now, pissed I waited so long to tell her alphas about our baby. Watching their slack-jawed reactions with a blend of excitement and nervousness.
What if they aren’t happy?
What if this isn’t the right time?
What if—
Rask laughs out loud, lighting our bond with delighted surprise and unrestrained, explosive joy. Cylus exhales in a rush, his lungs collapsing as the greatest relief he’s ever known overflows in his body, spilling over our tether.
Zolkan is barely breathing. His mind skips, unable to complete any thought. “Sofi—” he starts, choking on a purr. “Are you sure?”
I grin through a sudden rush of tears, nodding. “It’s yours, Alpha. Our pip.”
I’ve never seen any of them cry, I realize.
Until this moment, I didn’t even know it was possible.
But as he gathers me in his velvet muscles and drops his forehead to mine, Zolkan’s violet eyes well with tears.
The clear blue droplets turn his irises the most luminous shade of purple I’ve ever seen—just like the flare that filled the sky moments ago.
So many feelings flood Zolkan’s side of our bond, I can’t keep my own tears to myself anymore. They stream down my cheeks as I wade into our connection. Sensing his awe and relief and worry as keenly as my own. Showing him he’s not alone.
None of us are.
And now? We never will be again.
Cylus presses his purr into my spine, sliding his arms around our Zortaire and me. Rask follows suit, embracing us from the side. Enfolding our family within the protective screen of his wings. Guarding this raw moment from the rest of their world.
The one we’re saving.
One puny human heartbeat at a time.
Well, if I thought these males were overprotective before—
Oh, boy.
It’s only been a few hours since I shared our happy news, and they’ve already coddled me half to death.
Zolkan didn’t let my feet touch the ground for the rest of the night. Cylus growled at literally any alpha who came too close, including Norabi and his grandmother.
Rask wouldn’t even let me brush my own hair before bed.
They’re lunatics.
And I’m obsessed.
Stanley joins me on our bed, resting his enormous head in my lap. It’s the size of my whole torso, but whatever. He needs his scratchies.
“Best boy,” I praise. “You’re so good at keeping secrets.”
He was the only soul I told about my suspected pregnancy. And I know he’s a dog, so he really couldn’t tell anyone—but I actually think he would have kept it to himself, even if he could have blabbed.
Stanley’s dark eyes flick across the room, equal parts exasperated and suspicious. I don’t blame him; my three mates have been huddled around our bedroom’s one and only table for the last ten minutes.
I assumed they were reviewing the quick health scan Cylus insisted on giving me when we got home. Now I see they aren’t even looking at his work device. They’re focused on his smaller, personal one.
And they’re… giddy?
I’m not sure what could be making them so jittery, but someone better tell me soon. We went to twelve parties today, and Mama is tired.
When I clock the uneasy way they glance at one another, I know they’re having an internal conversation about me. I clear my throat, glowering, and Rask breaks into his crooked grin.
“Just show her, you knot-heads.”
Cylus slants a searching look in my direction. Zolkan grits his jaw, but nods, determining, “It’s time.”
Our healer carries the small holotab to our bed, settling beside me and placing the screen in front of my folded legs. Zolkan takes my other side, but Rask fights dirty, flying the short distance to land behind us, instantly tugging me into his lap so he can be in the middle with me.
See? He is a rascal.
Zolkan takes my hand, pulling my focus to him. Earnest violet eyes meet mine. “You asked us for something before we bonded. We’ve been working on it this whole time—but we didn’t want to show you until it was done.”
My mind reels, trying to come up with anything I lack. Aside from missing Addy and Capri, there really isn’t anything—
Oh.
Oh my God.
I gape at the tablet in disbelief. “No,” I breathe, not daring to hope. “There’s no way!”
Cylus purrs, smoothing his hand down my arm. “It won’t be perfect or fast. But as soon as the upload is complete, we should be able to see your friends’ Earth coordinates based on where their phones are—and we can use that information to beam messages directly to their devices.”
My mouth hangs ajar. “Like I’ll be able to text them?!”
Cylus nods, confirming, “Yes.”
A completely undignified squeal leaves my lips. And I’m about two seconds away from tackling this beautiful blue teddy bear of an alien—
But the tablet pings.
We all freeze… then lurch into motion, leaning forward to stare at the screen. The holographic readout displays two sets of coordinates—which makes sense. Cylus just said this app would show us their locations.
Only, these don’t seem like the sorts of coordinates we used on Earth. And the dots projected on the small map above the numbers look like they’re—wait.
Oh, holy fuck.
Capri and Addy aren’t on Earth.
They’re in space.
Thank you for reading Out Of This World!