13. Vayda
Istare at the water stains on the bedroom ceiling. Sleep feels like a lost cause. My brain spins in a relentless loop. Kel claimed the living room sofa three days ago to guard the broken fence. Simon took his turn the following evening.
I caught Wally lurking in his SUV late yesterday right after I settled Brendan into bed. I marched out into the spring chill and ordered him inside to take the couch. A pro athlete needs his spine intact for the playoffs. The three of them treat my quiet street like an active war zone.
I throw the blankets off and swing my legs over the edge of the mattress.
I pad down the dark hallway. A soft, rhythmic snore drifts from the living room.
I step into the kitchen and tear open one of the shiny foil bags Simon bought.
The rich smell of dark roast fills the room.
I scoop the grounds into the filter and hit the brew button.
I unlock the deadbolt and step out onto the concrete porch to grab the morning delivery. A mild spring breeze cuts through my thin t-shirt. I scoop up a stack of cardboard boxes filled with supplies from the welcome mat.
I carry the boxes into the cramped entryway. The oversized sofa groans in the next room. Wally steps into the hallway. He wears a dark Canval Reapers hoodie and a pair of gray joggers. He rubs the back of his neck, his dark hair a messy bedhead.
"Morning." Wally pauses near the entryway arch. "The coffee smells incredible."
"Morning." I drop the supplies near the door and walk back to the counter. "Have a seat."
I pull two ceramic mugs from the cabinet and pour the steaming dark roast into each. Taking in a deep breath, I let the scent give me courage.
"Cream or sugar?" I grab a spoon from the drawer.
Wally pulls out a worn wooden chair at the small dining table and takes a seat. "Just a splash of cream, please."
I grab the carton from the fridge and add a splash into his mug.
I mix a generous amount of hazelnut creamer into my cup.
I carry the hot mugs across the linoleum floor.
I grab two cork coasters and set one in front of Wally.
I place his mug down with care. Hale built this table from scratch.
I run my thumb over the polished wood. I sit in the chair across from him, wrapping my fingers around the warm ceramic.
I blow on the surface of my hot coffee. "You guys treat my boundaries like suggestions."
"We plan to shift our lives to fit yours." Wally takes a sip from his mug. "We're all in, Vayda."
"I appreciate the groceries and the fence, the driveway, the roof, everything. I mean it." I run a finger around the rim of my cup. "But I have a decade on all three of you."
"Ten years means zero to us." Wally shrugs, dismissing the concern. "We make our own choices."
"Kel mentioned retiring." I grip the mug tighter. "I draw the line at you throwing away a dynasty for me."
"Playing past your twenties guarantees bad knees and busted joints.
" Wally sets his mug on the table. "We want to quit on top.
Winning the Alpha Cup brings in massive sponsorship cash.
That money lets us walk away on our own terms. We can pivot into normal jobs with normal hours, giving us the time to step up for you and Brendan. "
I shake my head, gearing up to argue the point.
"We signed up for caregiving classes." Wally leans forward. "We start on our next off day. We want to learn the right way to lift him and handle his routine."
The air leaves my lungs. I stare at him.
They signed up for classes?
"We got another problem." Wally keeps his dark eyes locked on mine. "Missing your next Heat gives us rejection sickness, too. It wrecks Alphas with the exact same fever."
Guilt tightens my chest. The rejection sickness spared Brendan.
I suffered the agony alone for three years.
My brain categorized the pain as an isolated problem.
The reality of our time in that shed clicks into place.
Our bodies recognized the match. Pushing them away sentences three men to the same nightmare I endured.
"I got used to hurting alone." I stare at the dark liquid in my mug. "I forgot the sickness hits you guys, too."
Wally stares at the steam rising from his mug. "How did Brendan dodge the fever? The injury changed everything between you."
"The specialists think his brain damage protects him." I take a sip of the hot coffee. "He lacks the awareness to process the loss."
Wally tilts his head. "Do your Heats trigger him?"
I swallow hard. "His hormones react to an Omega in Heat. The sensation confuses his injured brain. Arousal causes him severe distress and panic."
Wally traces the rim of his mug. "Bonded Omegas smell like a blank slate to me. An Alpha's mark overwrites their original scent to warn off other guys."
He meets my gaze, keeping his expression open. "Finishing our bond leaves a new mark. Our scent could mask your pheromones and stop sending Brendan into a panic. It's your call, Vayda. Pitch the idea to his doctors."
Them marking me is something for me to think about, right now I don’t know if I could handle that.
"Wait here." I push my chair back from the table. "I need to get dressed and wake him up."
I head to the guest bedroom. I pull on a pair of clean jeans and a soft t-shirt. I walk down the hall to the master bedroom and begin the careful process of transferring Brendan from the mattress to his chair.
I wheel Brendan into the kitchen fifteen minutes later. Wally stands up from the dining table. He walks over and crouches beside the wheels of the chair, putting himself below Brendan's eye level.
"Morning, Brendan." Wally offers a respectful nod. "I'm Wally. We head out for a road trip soon. I just wanted to introduce myself before we leave."
Brendan turns his head. His bright blue eyes focus on the large hockey player. He makes a low, contented humming noise in his chest.
I walk to the counter to prep Brendan's breakfast. I blend fresh mango into a bowl of vanilla yogurt. I crush his morning pills and stir the powder into the food. I grab a spoon from the drawer.
I carry the bowl over to the dining table and take the seat next to Brendan's wheelchair. Cali jumps into Wally's lap. The calico cat purrs loud enough to echo off the kitchen walls. Wally strokes her fur with his thick fingers.
"Well, hello." Wally scratches behind her ears. "You run a loud motor. What's her name?"
"Cali." I scoop a bite of the mango blend and hold it up to Brendan's mouth.
"Nice to meet you, Cali." Wally shifts his attention back to Brendan.
A soft chuckle rumbles in his chest. "Kel said you like nature documentaries.
We got a long flight to Heathstead today.
I downloaded a few about deep-sea fishing to kill the time.
I plan to give you a full review when we get back. "
Brendan parts his lips and takes the bite. He makes a low, rumbling noise in his chest.
"I figured you'd appreciate a good review." Wally keeps his tone steady and respectful, talking to him like a friend. "We play two games out there. Then we get a stretch at home. We want to come over and knock out the yard work. Take some of the load off your shoulders."
I scoop another bite of the mango blend and hold it up for Brendan. "You have a playoff run to focus on. Save your energy for the ice."
"We need the distraction." Wally strokes Cali's back. "Sitting around the penthouse gets old. Coming here gives us a purpose off the ice."
Brendan takes the bite from the spoon. I grab a napkin and wipe a stray drop from his chin.
"When do you get back from Heathstead?" I set the napkin on the table.
Wally smiles. The expression softens the hard lines of his face. "Sunday night. We get Monday off. That marks the start of our caregiving classes."
I nod. The reality of their commitment settles deep in my chest. They back up their words with direct action.
The morning sun crests the horizon, casting a warm glow through the window over the sink.
Wally sets Cali down on the linoleum floor and stands up. He grabs his empty mug from the table and carries it over to the kitchen sink. He sets the ceramic in the metal basin. He pauses, staring at the windowsill.
An old, framed picture sits next to a dying potted succulent.
"Is this them?" Wally points a thick finger at the glass frame. "Your Alphas?"
I leave my spot at the table and step up right next to him. I look at the messy breakfast caught on camera.
"Yeah." I point to the man holding me in his lap. "That is Emmett."
Wally studies the photo. "He looks like a good guy. Who is the one trying to steal the bacon?"
"Hale." I tap the glass over his messy dark hair. "He built our dining table."
Wally shifts his gaze to the blonde man in the picture. He looks back over his shoulder at Brendan sitting in the wheelchair.
"Brendan looks tough." Wally keeps his tone respectful. "You guys look happy."
"We were." I drop my hand to the edge of the counter.
Wally turns to face me. "What happened to them? If you want to talk about it."
"A car crash." I stare at the dying succulent. "The three of them took a weekend fishing trip. I drove down to see my parents."
I swallow the lump in my throat. "I got a call from the hospital two days later. Emmett and Hale died at the scene. Brendan survived, but he lived in the ICU for months."
Wally steps closer, giving me his full attention.
"My parents demanded I put him in a care home." I grip the edge of the counter. "I fought them on it. I kept my mate here. They cut contact with me after I made that choice. We just have each other."
Wally reaches out and covers my hand with his. His calloused skin feels warm against mine. He traces his thumb over my knuckles.
"You deserve that kind of happiness again." He holds my gaze.
I stare at our hands. The grounding weight of his touch eases the tight knot in my chest.
Wally gives my fingers a soft squeeze before letting go. He checks the watch on his wrist. "I need to hit the road. We have a flight to catch."
I walk him to the front door. We step out onto the porch. The cool spring sky shifts into bright shades of pink and orange.
Wally leans down and presses a warm kiss to my forehead. "Pitch that marking theory to his doctors and think it over. We’re here for a lifetime if you’ll have us."
He turns and jogs down the driveway. I watch him climb into his SUV and pull away from the curb.
I step back inside and lock the deadbolt. I walk into the kitchen and sit in the chair next to Brendan. I pull his bowl of yogurt closer.
"They show extreme persistence, Bren." I scoop another bite of the mango blend onto the spoon. "They want to take care of us. They want to learn your routine."
Brendan looks past the spoon. He shifts his hand on the armrest. He uncurls his fingers and grabs my wrist with a massive burst of strength. He locks his clear blue eyes on my face.
"Vay." His raspy voice strains with the effort of forming the words. "Happy."
Tears well up in my eyes and spill over my cheeks. I lean forward and press a kiss to his messy blonde hair.
"I love you, Bren." I rest my forehead against his. "Always."