Chapter Twenty-Six
Frankie
I wake up to warmth—the kind that settles under your skin and hums low and constant, like it belongs there.
Finn’s arm is slung over my waist, his breath steady against the back of my neck. He’s still half-asleep, but he shifts when I stir, pulling me in tighter. His fingers curl at my side, like he doesn’t want to let go.
And the bond…
Oh, the bond is there .
Not sharp or intrusive, but fully present; settled somewhere deep and comfortable within me now.
Finn’s happiness hums quietly through the bond—soft and golden, like warmth soaking through skin on a slow morning. It wraps around me, gentle and full, pressing at my chest with so much affection it almost steals my breath.
And then there’s Jax.
He’s not here, but I feel him just as strongly. That steady presence, that quiet watchfulness. There’s no rush to it—just calm assurance, and the solid weight of someone who doesn’t say much but means everything.
And it hits me, all at once: he’s pleased . Content, even. With me. With Finn. With us.
It’s a quiet kind of approval, but it lands deep, and it shakes me more than I want to admit.
Two bonds. Two Alphas stitched into my skin, their emotions tucked into the spaces between heartbeats. It’s a lot. And it’s... good . Safe and overwhelming, but not in a way that makes me—just in a way that reminds me I’ll never be the same again.
I breathe through it, eyes on the ceiling, trying to steady the swirl in my chest.
Because I want the other two.
Not because I feel as though I have to, or because the Omega Safety Compliance Board is breathing down our necks with their rules and regulations, but because I want them. Badly .
But wanting them doesn’t cancel out the panic quietly unraveling in my brain.
What if this all goes wrong? What if this— me —messes everything up?
They’ve got a semi-final coming up: their biggest game of the season, and against one of their longest standing rival clubs, no less.
Denton Vale. Scouts. Pressure. Their literal futures on the line.
And here I am—omega in their bed, tangled in their scents, bonded to half the pack and wanting more.
What if this distracts them? What if they miss plays or lose focus because of me?
What if someone uses me against them?
Theo’s already trying to plan our bonding schedule like it’s a military op while Rory’s burying his head in the sand and acting like none of it’s happening. Jax is probably downstairs with black coffee and a carving knife, pretending he doesn’t feel things, while Finn is wrapped around me like I’m something worth keeping.
And I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.
I just wanted a quiet job in a quiet town. A fresh start. A blank slate where I could find a place for myself and not be guilted into bonding with a Nigel. Instead, I’m in a bed that smells like cinnamon and skin and alpha, bonded to two of them, aching for the rest, and trying not to let the weight of it crush me before breakfast.
Finn shifts behind me, warm and sleepy. He makes a soft noise—half sigh, half satisfied little growl—and pulls me closer. His lips brush my shoulder, and I smile.
Because no matter how complicated this is, no matter how many people are watching or whispering or waiting for us to fall apart… this feels right .
“Still breathing?” he murmurs against my skin, voice scratchy and sweet.
“Barely,” I whisper, smiling wider.
His arm tightens around my waist. “Good. You smell like contentment and sex and mine .”
I laugh—quietly, because my body’s still recovering from… well, him . “Very romantic.”
“Don’t worry. I can write you a poem later.”
“Oh god, please don’t.”
He kisses the top of my shoulder again. “How are you really feeling?”
It’s tempting to just say fine. To roll over, kiss him, pretend that everything’s blissed-out perfection.
But he deserves more than that.
And so do I.
“I feel…” I trail off, trying to find the words. “ Full . Like, emotionally full. Bonded to you. Tied to Jax. I can feel both of you, and it’s… amazing. But a lot.”
He hums softly. “A lot, yeah. But… good?”
“ Really good.”
I shift enough to glance back at him. “I can feel how happy you are.”
“Can you?” His smile turns soft, a little crooked. “Good. Because I don’t think I’ve ever felt this happy. And that’s before I had sex so good I forgot my name halfway through.”
I snort and shove at his chest. He catches my wrist and kisses it, and just like that, I’m melting again.
He brushes my hair back and studies me. “You know you’ve still got two more alphas to deal with, right?”
“ Deal with ?” I arch an eyebrow. “What am I doing, issuing citations?”
He grins. “I just mean… there’s still Rory. And Theo. You’re not feeling pressured, are you?”
The joke dies on my lips. Because that’s the real question, isn’t it?
“No,” I say. “Not pressured. Not exactly.”
He waits, quiet and steady.
“I… it feels kind of weird to say, but I want them. It’s just that everything’s moving so fast. And this game—Denton Vale—it’s huge . I don’t want to get in the way. Or be a distraction.”
“You’re not a distraction.”
“Not on purpose. But it’s not exactly normal to walk into a team dynamic and bond with half the starting lineup before a semi-final.”
Finn’s quiet for a second. “It doesn’t feel like a disruption. Not to us. It feels like…” He swallows. “ Momentum . Like we’re not just playing for the club anymore. We’re playing for you , too.”
That does something weird and fluttery in my chest.
“You think they feel that way?”
“I know they do. Rory won’t say it, and Theo’s probably in the shower right now mentally choreographing how to make your first bond-night with him resemble a sacred ceremony; but yeah. They want this.”
I close my eyes for a second and try to let that settle.
The fear. The hope.
“I want them to choose it,” I say quietly. “Not because the OSC is breathing down our necks, but because they want me.”
He pulls the blanket up over both of us, settling in.
“They do.” Finn presses a kiss behind my ear. “You don’t have to do anything until you’re ready, though. Honestly, screw the OSC, and the board for hopping on it all, too. There’s no pressure, no timeline—just… us . As we are.”
I smile, and it’s soft and real and just a little shaky.
Because the thing is, part of me already knew . But hearing it out loud—along with feeling Finn’s certainty through the bond—grounds me in a way I didn’t know I needed.
*
By the time we finally head downstairs, the house smells like bacon and barely concealed curiosity.
Theo’s at the stove, flipping pancakes with the casual grace of someone who knows exactly how hot he looks doing it. Rory’s at the table, coffee in one hand, phone in the other, while Jax is already halfway through a protein shake and a plate of eggs, wood carving balanced in his lap like it's a perfectly normal breakfast accessory.
I hover in the doorway, slightly behind Finn, wearing one of his t-shirts that hits mid-thigh and smells very much like freshly bonded alpha. My hair’s a mess, my neck’s tender, and I’m trying very hard not to look like I’m glowing.
“Morning,” I say, aiming for breezy, missing by a mile.
Theo doesn’t even flinch.
“Well, well, well,” he drawls, still flipping pancakes. “If it isn’t the radiant embodiment of post-bond smugness.”
Rory looks up once, clocks the shirt, the neck, the everything , then silently returns to his phone. Jax glances over, too. He doesn’t say a word, but the corner of his mouth definitely twitches.
Finn makes a beeline for the coffee pot. “We’re glowing with emotional growth and sexual fulfillment, thank you for asking.”
Theo hums as he turns to look at me over his shoulder. “She does look fulfilled.”
I freeze slightly, not sure if I’m being teased or praised. Then I catch the tiny smirk he tries to hide as he flips another pancake. Yeah—teased. But in a weirdly respectful, “I’ll still be the best you ever have” kind of way.
I slide onto the bench, trying not to wince. Jax wordlessly pushes a glass of orange juice toward me. I catch a pulse of warmth through the bond—his quiet, solid approval like an anchor in my chest.
“I didn’t expect you guys to wait on us,” I say.
“We didn’t,” Rory says without looking up—no doubt messing with another one of his spreadsheets or reading through team tactics. “This is our second breakfast.”
Finn drops beside me, draping an arm across my shoulders. “Very Tolkien of you.”
Theo turns from the stove and sets a plate of pancakes down in front of me. “Eat, Omega.”
I raise a brow. “Is that a command ?”
“More of a seductive suggestion,” he says, sliding into the seat across from me. “You’ve just completed a significant biological event. You need fuel. Also, I put chocolate chips in these— you’re welcome .”
My stomach growls before I can form a response.
Theo eyes the faint flush on my neck. “So? How are you feeling?”
“Good,” I say around a bite of pancake, my eyelids fluttering slightly at how good they taste. “Tired, but good.”
“No dizziness? Muscle soreness? Excess scent fatigue?”
“Are those real symptoms, or did you just make them up?”
Theo leans back and grins. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Rory makes a low noise that sounds suspiciously like suffering. “He has a spreadsheet .”
“ Please —don’t you start with me about spreadsheets. Besides, that spreadsheet is medically sound,” Theo grins, completely unfazed. “And since Frankie’s bonded to two alphas now, I’m just looking out for her. You know—ensuring her system’s not overloaded.”
“She ate half a tray of muffins and called me her ‘sexy cinnamon roll’,” Finn interjects, reaching over to swipe some toast.
“I did not say that,” I protest.
“You don’t have to say anything now, sweetheart. Your bond is basically shouting it.”
I press a hand to my face and try not to melt into the bench.
Breakfast is chaos. There’s no other word for it—it’s loud, slightly inappropriate, and full of carbs. Plates get passed around. Theo smacks Finn’s hand away from the bacon. Rory silently offers me the butter without looking up, and when our fingers brush, I feel it—that low hum of heat, quiet and unresolved.
Jax, carving in complete peace, finally looks up and says, “So. When do we tell the OSC to fuck off?”
Theo picks up his fork. “After we finish bonding.”
Finn raises a hand, piece of toast still in the other. “I still think we should call it ‘ The Frankie Initiative .’”
Rory sighs. “Absolutely not.”
“Why?” Finn asks. “Too catchy?”
“Too chaotic ,” Rory mutters.
Theo gestures with his fork. “He’s just mad he didn’t come up with it first.”
I’m about to make a joke, but Theo leans forward, just slightly, and his gaze flicks to mine. There’s no pressure in it—just that same teasing, confident calm he always carries.
“Whenever you’re ready, Frankie. You set the pace.”
Something in me settles at that.
The thing with Theo: he’s not pushy. He’s not possessive. He’s not even pretending to compete.
He doesn’t have to. He knows what he brings to the table; and yeah, it’s infuriatingly hot.
Because somehow, it makes me want him even more.
I look around the table and swallow thickly.
They’re already mine, and I’m already theirs. Even the ones I haven’t bonded yet.
But reality has a habit of dropping in like a brick through the window.
“The OSC isn’t going to wait for us to figure it all out,” I say, pushing my plate away and trying not to sound as anxious as I feel. “They want an official pack. Structure. Something they can slap a label on and tick off on a form.”
Jax nods once. “They’ll push alright. Harder every day you stay unbonded.”
“They’ll call it instability,” Rory adds. “Say that you living with us without being properly pack-bonded is unfit to maintain safe omega dynamics, and dangerous for public engagement.”
Theo rolls his eyes. “Because bonding is totally something you should rush just to appease a bunch of miserable bureaucrats who flunked out of Pack Psychology 101.”
“But I’m not waiting,” I say firmly. “I want to bond. With both of you.”
Theo’s eyebrows lift slightly, but he recovers fast; his grin twitching at the corner of his mouth.
“I know what I want,” I continue. “You. Rory. This whole ridiculous, wonderful, completely unmanageable pack. So if bonding sooner helps the OSC back the hell off, then fine . I’m in.”
There’s a slight pause, then Finn lets out a low whistle. “God, I love it when you go feral about government policy.”
Jax smirks into his eggs. Rory, predictably, says nothing—but I catch the way his fingers tighten slightly around his coffee mug.
Theo, for his part, looks thrilled .
“You know,” he says, leaning forward like we’re conspiring across a poker table. “I was going to suggest you pace yourself. Stretch it out. Build anticipation. Make the bureaucrats squirm.”
“Is this about the OSC, or your delayed gratification kink?”
“Why not both?”
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling now. “So? What’s the plan?”
Theo straightens a little. “We play it smart. They want structure, we give them structure. But it’s on our terms.”
“Define that,” Rory says, sounding more curious than cautious.
“We give them the image of a stable, functional, consensual pack. Clear timelines. Scheduled bonding. Public-facing unity, minimal chaos. Basically… we feed them just enough to keep them satisfied without letting them take over.”
Finn grins. “So we manufacture an illusion of control while secretly doing everything our way.”
“Exactly,” Theo says, pointing at him. “Weekly check-ins. Intentional updates. Scheduled bonding milestones. They’ll eat it up.”
Jax lifts an eyebrow. “So we lie.”
“We curate,” Theo corrects, smug. “Big difference.”
Finn nudges my knee with his. “We could even meet with the OSC rep ourselves. As a full pack. Take the pressure off you.”
“You shouldn’t be doing this alone,” Rory says, meeting my eyes across the table. “None of us should let you carry this solo.”
That hits me right in the chest. His voice. That steady, quiet intensity. The way he means it.
“You’d really all do that?” I ask softly, looking between them.
Jax glances up from his carving. “If it protects you? Every time.”
Finn’s hand wraps around mine beneath the table.
Theo lifts his mug in a toast. “And some of us may just enjoy making smug government stooges sweat.”
I blink. “The meeting?”
“No.” He smirks. “You. In the middle of all of us. Calm, confident, glowing—and making them realize you’re not the liability. You’re the power move.”
That pulls a surprised laugh out of me. “I do like being a power move.”
“We noticed,” Rory mutters into his mug.
I let out a long, shaky breath. “Okay. So we give them the highlight reel. We move forward. No dragging this out for their comfort. I’m ready to bond with all of you. And I want to.”
Theo leans back with a self-satisfied smile. “Finally. Someone around here with initiative.”
I shake my head and glance around the table—at the two alphas who’ve already claimed pieces of me, and the ones I haven’t fully touched yet, but will . Soon.
“They want proof we’re a real pack?” I say. “Then let’s show them how it’s done.”