Chapter 32 - Etienne
Etienne
I tapped my fingers on the doorframe of the medical suite, watching a wand push against Presley's pale skin. The gel glistened under the harsh overhead lights, and she flinched slightly at the cold.
Hastings stood like a statue at Presley's head, his hand wrapped around hers so tightly the bone in his knuckles looked like they were going to pop out. Fritz leaned against the wall opposite me, his arms crossed, his eyes fixed on the monitor with an intensity I'd only seen on the rugby pitch.
The room smelled of antiseptic and something floral, probably the diffuser the sonographer had plugged in to make the space feel less clinical. It didn't work.
The beige walls and fluorescent lights still screamed medical procedure rather than miracle in progress.
But then the first pulse echoed through the speakers.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
It was fast, strong, impossibly real, and it had to be mine.
My heart skipped a beat, stumbling over itself to catch up with the rhythm coming from that tiny life inside Presley's belly.
"We have a healthy heartbeat," the sonographer said, her voice warm and professional.
The tension left Hastings' shoulders, his whole body sagging with relief.
"Oh," Presley whimpered as a tear slid down the side of her face, tracking across her temple and landing on the bed beneath her head. Her hand tightened around Hastings, who didn’t flinch. He just stroked his thumb across her knuckles in slow, soothing circles.
Could she have ever been able to leave the baby once it was born? This started as an arrangement, a business deal with a surrogate, but standing here listening to that heartbeat, we'd all been lying to ourselves from the start.
I strode to Presley's side, needing to touch her, needing to ground myself in this moment. I reached out and rested my hand on her arm, feeling the heat coming off her skin.
"Princesse–" I whispered, my throat tight. “You’re–”
But I couldn’t speak because as the sonographer moved the wand in a slow arc, the image on the screen shifted, and the grey shapes morphed into something that looked almost recognizable.
Then a second pulse joined the first.
The world stopped.
"Ah," the sonographer whispered, a small smile playing on her lips. "We have a second heartbeat. You're having twins."
The second beat was slightly out of sync with the first, but each created a beautiful, chaotic melody in the small room.
Hastings made a low, possessive sound in his throat that was almost a growl.
Fritz pushed off the wall, crossing to the bed in two strides. "Two?"
The air vanished from my lungs as two heartbeats reverberated through my chest.
"Two?" she whispered. Her voice was thin, breathless, disbelieving. Presley looked so small on that table, her eyes wide as she stared at the flickering grey shapes on the monitor.
"Nature is beautiful," I said, leaning over to kiss her forehead. My lips lingered there, feeling the warmth of her skin, the slight dampness from her tears.
I stepped back and turned away because my own tears were falling and I couldn't see the screen anymore. I wiped them away with the back of my hand, but they kept coming.
"But I'm having two babies?"
I turned back to the monitor and looked at those two tiny flickers of light on the screen. Our pack would soon have two perfect, impossible miracles.
Our world was getting more perfect every single day.
The drive home was quiet.
We were all lost in the weight of the news, and in the magnitude of what we'd just seen. Two babies. Two lives that would depend on us completely.
Presley sat between me and Hastings in the back of the car, her hand resting on her still-flat stomach like she was trying to feel them through skin and muscle and tissue.
Fritz sat opposite in the town car. "We have a surprise for you, Presley," he said finally, breaking the silence.
She looked at him, her eyes still red-rimmed. "Another surprise? I don't think my heart can take it."
"I think you'll like it."
"Can I see Mr. Cheddar first?" she asked. "I need to let him know he's about to become a big brother and he needs to find better hiding spots.”
I laughed. "I'm sure he'll be thrilled."
"Thrilled?" Hastings muttered. "That cat is already convinced he runs the house. He’ll not hide from two toddlers."
"He does run the house," Presley said. "You let him sleep on your pillow."
"I do not."
"Henry, I have photographic evidence."
Hastings' jaw tightened, the corner of his mouth twitched. "That was one time. He looked cold."
"It was last night."
"He manipulated me."
"He's a cat. That's what they do." Presley grinned. "Admit it. You love him."
"I tolerate him."
"You bought him a heated bed."
"For practical reasons. If he's warm, he won't steal my pillow."
"You bought him gourmet cat food from Harrods."
"The regular food upset his stomach."
"You call him 'sir' when you feed him."
Hastings went very still. "I do not."
"You do," Fritz called from the front seat. "I've heard you. 'Here's your dinner, sir. I hope it meets your exacting standards, sir.'"
"That's not—I was being sarcastic."
"You curtsied."
"I did not curtsy. I bent down to put the bowl down."
"It looked like a curtsy," I said, unable to resist.
Hastings glared at all of us, but there was no heat in it. "I'm surrounded by traitors."
"And one very spoiled cat," Presley added, leaning her head on his shoulder. “But that makes me happy.”
“And that’s all we want,” Fritz added.
When we got home, Presley went straight to the drawing room where Mr. Cheddar was sprawled across the back of the sofa like a ginger throw pillow.
We hung back, watching from the doorway.
"Mr. Cheddar," she said, sitting beside him. He opened one eye, assessed her, then closed it again. "I have news."
The cat's tail flicked.
"You're going to be a big brother. To twins. Two tiny humans who will probably be very loud and very annoying."
Mr. Cheddar opened both eyes now, staring at her with what could only be described as betrayal.
"I know, I know. You're the baby. But you're going to have to share now." She scratched behind his ears, and despite his offense, he started to purr. "They're going to love you though. And you're going to protect them, right? Keep them safe?"
Mr. Cheddar's purr ramped up, and he headbutted her hand.
"That's my boy." She kissed the top of his head, then stood. "Okay. I'm ready for this surprise now."
Fritz stepped forward, grinning before he took her hand. "Close your eyes."
"Fritz—"
"Close them, Liebling. Trust us."
She sighed but obeyed, squeezing her eyes shut. Fritz placed his hands over them anyway, guiding her toward the back door.
I walked close behind her, my hands hovering near her waist just in case she stumbled. Hastings brought up the rear, his phone in his hand, ready to capture whatever reaction she had.
We led her along the stone path, past the garden where the pergola construction had been happening. Or where she thought the pergola construction had been happening.
"Okay," Fritz said, stopping. "Open."
He dropped his hands, and I held my breath.
Presley opened her eyes.
A cottage sat in the corner of the garden, tucked against the stone wall. It was small, perfect, with cream-colored stone and wide blue-painted window frames. A Dutch door stood open, revealing a glimpse of warm wood floors and built-in bookshelves.
"It's a little house," Presley murmured, her hand going to her mouth.
"A cottage, Princesse," I corrected, stepping close to nuzzle the scent gland at her neck. "Your sanctuary."
"It's what you wanted," Hastings added, moving to her other side. "A cottage and a cat. You said that was all you needed."
She turned to look at us, and for a heart-stopping second, I thought we'd made a terrible mistake.
Her eyes were swimming with tears, her chin trembling.
"Do you not want me in your house anymore?" Her voice broke. "Is this where you're putting me now that the babies are coming? Am I being—"
"Non," I said firmly, cupping her face. "Non, Princesse. Never."
Fritz stepped forward, taking her hands.
"Presley, no. We want you everywhere. In our bed, in our kitchen, in every room of that big house.
But we know you. We know you need a place where the air is quiet and the world doesn't demand anything from you.
This is your nest. Yours alone." He paused. "We only come here if we're invited."
"Oh." She wiped her eyes, laughing wetly. "Okay. That's—okay."
She walked toward the cottage, her steps slow and hesitant. We waited at the door, giving her space to explore.
She ran her hand over the bookshelves that lined the back wall, empty and waiting for the special editions she'd always wanted. She peeked into the bedroom at the mountain of soft linens and pillows piled on the bed. She looked out the window at the main house, visible through the garden.
Then she turned back to us, her face flushed and beautiful.
"Come in," she said. "Please."
We crossed the threshold together.
The cottage smelled of new wood and fresh paint. There was a small kitchen area with a kettle and a tiny fridge. A reading nook by the window with cushions and a blanket. Everything was what we knew she wanted.
Presley stood in the center of the main room, slowly turning to take it all in.
I glanced at Hastings and Fritz, nodded. We moved together.
We'd planned this moment, but now that it was here, it felt natural. Inevitable.
We dropped to our knees on the thick rug, surrounding her.
Three alphas, reduced to nothing by the woman standing in the center of the room.
“What are you doing?” Her eyes flicked from me to Hastings to Fritz before she stepped back and took us all in.
“I love you,” Hastings said, without warning.
“I love you,” Fritz added.
"I’ve loved you from the very first day I met you. And I’ve been given the privilege to make this move.”
She smiled. “I love you all.”
“We know you do, and that makes the decision so easy.
Presley, we've been a pack without an omega for a long time, and then you came along and lightened our world," I said, looking up at her, watching a tear track down her cheek.
"Fritz, Henry, and I. Well, while we’re proud of our own names, we realize this family needs a single thread to bind us.
Something that says we belong together."
"We always knew that one day, we would be Pack Hastings, not three individual pack members who share the same pack. Now you’re here, and Fritz and I are ready to become Hastings, but we want you to formally be our omega. For us to legally register as a complete pack. Pack Hastings," Fritz said.
"That’s if you’re ready for that commitment," Hastings finished, his voice rough.
Presley stared at us, her mouth opening and closing without sound. Her hands reached to her neck, to the place where her three alphas had already claimed her spiritually. She was already ours, but we still wanted more.
"We're asking you to marry us," I clarified, in case it wasn't clear. "All of us. A legal pack marriage."
"I know what you're asking," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm just—I'm processing."
"Take your time," Hastings said.
She let out a shaky, half-strangled laugh. She bit her lip, looking between the three of us with that familiar look.
"Well," she said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I suppose I should say yes. But don't expect me to start acting like a billionaire's wife..."
"Is that a yes?" Fritz asked, grinning.
"That's a yes."
The relief that flooded through me was almost painful. I surged forward, wrapping my arms around her waist, burying my face in her stomach where our children were growing.
"Thank you," I whispered against her. "Thank you, Princesse."
Fritz and Hastings joined us, their arms wrapping around both of us, creating a cocoon for our pack.
Presley's hands went to my hair, then to Fritz's shoulder, then to Hastings' arm. Like she was trying to touch all of us at once.
"Thank you," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "For finding me. For seeing me when I was invisible. For giving me something I never dared to dream of."
Her hand settled on her belly, right where I'd been resting my face.
"For giving me everything," she whispered.
“You are everything,” I murmured. “You and this pack.”