Chapter 55
fifty-five
I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this.
Panic, maybe. Regret, for sure. Sprinkles of inadequacy or jealousy or smugness seemed inevitable, too.
But this?
This… peace?
That’s the only word to describe the serenity blanketing our bed. It’s peaceful. An island. Our own tranquil corner of the universe.
I think Atlas might still be waiting for me to freak out. His dark eyes flicker in the cloud-diffused moonlight, flitting over my expression. Hunting for qualms.
He won’t find any, though. Because, despite all my fears, what just happened didn’t knock my entire world out of orbit.
In fact, I think it may have turned it right-side up.
Atlas flexes his fingers along the side of my neck. His brows curve up, silently asking if this is still okay with me, if I’m alright. In answer to his silent questions, I huddle closer to Violet’s gently curved form, relishing how silky her skin feels against mine.
If I’m honest, as I stare at Violet’s sweet, sleeping face, tucked into the hollow of Atlas’s throat, I do feel regretful about one thing.
I can’t believe I withheld this from them for so long.
It seems so petty, now. I love Atlas. I want everything for him. Yet, when his mate showed up, scared and sick and touch-starved, I was so insecure I couldn’t stand the thought of even letting him hug her?
At first, my boundaries seemed so reasonable… and maybe they were. But as time went on and Atlas proved what he’d always promised? When I saw for myself how fervently Violet respected our relationship? And when—Jesus—I started to find myself attracted to her?
I could have given them this so much sooner.
Sorrow swamps my middle, but this time, I’m not alone. My Omega peeks out of his hole and whispers to me for the first time in a long time.
You were scared of her, he says.
Because it’s true. I was.
I answer slowly, not wanting to spook him or remind him why he hates me. You weren’t?
He huffs in exasperation, forcing me to look at Violet’s face. Never, he intones, steadier than ever. I was afraid of losing Atlas, for a day or two, at first, but… look at her. We need her.
Christ, he’s so right.
The day Atlas brought her home, my Omega lost his shit, but not because of her.
He was heartbroken not to be the one bonded to Atlas—and he blamed me.
Because he had tried to get me to take my alpha’s bite for a decade…
and I never listened. I let my hangups—my family bullshit, my hatred for my designation, the shame of needing someone so much, the fear he would change his mind—control my life.
It took her showing up here, with her claim mark on Atlas’s wrist, to prove everything he’d always promised me. And watching her figure out life as an omega, despite all her trauma…
Somehow, that combination made it safe for me to listen to my own instincts. Maybe because I had nothing left to lose. Or maybe it was just…
Her.
I convinced myself Violet was the incarnation of all my insecurities—the one who would finally drive Atlas away. But lying here, with her literally between us, I finally see.
Violet isn’t a wedge between us. She’s glue.
We’ve been together for a third of my life, but I’ve never felt more connected to him than I do in this moment.
Every time Violet shifts, we silently decide how to move around her.
Making sure we’re always touching each other and her.
Treating her touch-starvation with stroking hands and nuzzled scent-marks…
but eyeing one another with pride and adoration the whole time.
Watching him care for her… I swear, I’ve fallen in love with him all over again.
It’s like witnessing his devotion to me from the outside.
I know exactly how his fingers feel massaging her scalp, how wide and warm his naked chest is.
How those bulging muscles flex—such strength, always tempered with tenderness.
And now I know—Violet having all of this with my alpha? Doesn’t mean I don’t. He isn’t any less mine for being hers.
That truth echoes through my chest, once again rousing my Omega. He agrees, but, as always, he’s more concerned with how our alpha feels. With a nod, he directs me to my man’s face, pointing out how serene it is.
Atlas is always calm and solid, but right now he looks so… relieved. As if every worry and care has finally fallen off his back, leaving him to bask in this. Us.
The longer I stare, the more I think there’s something else going on. His shoulders sit lower and looser. The muscle in his jaw hasn’t bulged or ground.
There’s a particular ease to him. One so subtle, I didn’t even notice it missing before. Now that it’s back, though?
My Omega nudges me urgently. Projecting dark certainty that spreads over my contentment like ink on water.
I reach up to set my hand over his. “Atlas… have you been in pain this whole time?”
Atlas stiffens. Wariness creeps into his eyes as he scowls. “You knew that,” he murmurs, choosing his words carefully. “I told you it could be painful at times.”
I lace our fingers together and squeeze. “But you’ve been hiding how bad it is,” I guess, “And acting like even just holding Violet wouldn’t make a world of difference for you?”
I’m still postulating, but my presumptions land. His mahogany gaze shifts. Being the brilliant man he is, though, Atlas doesn’t answer directly.
“I never want you to worry about me,” he says instead. “Especially not over this.”
Part of me wants to strangle him. Stupid, selfless, saint of a man, I think, glaring at him. He’s just as stupidly self-sacrificing as—
Violet.
Christ. They really are mates.
For the first time, that thought doesn’t gut me. I sigh, fighting my sardonic amusement with the quirk of an eyebrow. “But it’s true, right? You’ve needed to touch her as much as she’s needed you—you were both just too nice to tell me.”
I say nice like it’s a dirty word. Atlas nearly smirks, then pins me with a reproachful look of his own. “We both care about you. Immensely.”
Gratitude and regret twine into the sweetest blade, carving the air from my lungs. Stinging my eyes and swelling my heart.
“Thank you,” I tell him, low and urgent, reaching over to hold his jaw. “I understand why you didn’t tell me how bad it was, but I don’t want any secrets between us. Especially not now. Not if we’re going to…”
I’m not sure what. Keep Violet? Beg her to stay? Try to figure this out with Finn and Ryker—and Cillian, Jesus—
Atlas tracks the anxiety climbing into my eyes. His answering exhale is slow and resigned. “In that case,” he sighs. “I suppose I ought to tell you the rest.”
My gut told me there was more—because my Omega knew it. So instead of surprise or panic, I only feel determination.
I can take this. We can figure it out. Together.
All three of us.
I brace, listening to my alpha admit how much this has hurt him. Harmed him—and how, soon, we’ll make that damage permanent.
I keep waiting for the whines. Screaming rage, chilling fear.
But I don’t need any of it. Because I’m not just listening to Atlas, now. And when my Omega projects the perfect image into my mind, I know exactly what to do.
Tense silence stretches between us as Atlas falls silent. Waiting for me to react.
I brush his wavy hair off his forehead and nod over my shoulder. “Come on. You carry Violet.”
He frowns. “Back to her room?”
My lips quirk up, and I let my eyes roll. Silly man.
“No, babe. Into our nest.”
Violet blinks awake as the first strains of dawn touch the horizon.
For the last month, this nest has been a constant thorn in my side. I wasn’t in touch with my Omega to know why, but I knew it didn’t feel right.
The mattress carved into the floor crater was too big. There were hooks high up on the curved walls and I had no clue what they were for or what to do with them. The thin windows arched along the eastern wall made the whole thing too damn bright…
Or so I thought.
As Violet stretches alongside me, capturing sunbeams in her glorious hair…
It’s perfect.
A view of our girl’s favorite meadow to greet her. Enough space for the three of us. Plus even more people, actually, if we wanted…
Her lashes flutter, shining and painting thin shadows over her cheeks as she takes in the vista. Alarm visibly thumps through her when she realizes where we are.
She flips with a gasp, her expression horror-struck. “Gideon! Oh my God, did I—”
I purr as loud as I can… which is still pretty pitiful. But whatever. Atlas and Violet like it.
She sways closer automatically, dropping wide eyes to my buzzing chest just before I fold her into it, kissing her crown. “The only thing you did,” I whisper, “is blow my fucking mind.”
Behind me, Atlas partially rouses, mumbling a sleepy hum. Joy swells inside me. I grin into Violet’s hair. “Oh, and his.”
Violet startles a bit, stretching her neck to see the naked, dozing alpha behind me. Her gaze grows comically large, her blinks more like glitches. “But I—but we—and you—”
I scent-mark her cheek, trying to infuse the motion with the reverence blooming at the base of my throat. “I brought you in here,” I whisper, suddenly self-conscious. “This is my nest and I just—I want you in here with us. Is… that okay?”
Violet’s gaze sparkles. She throws her thin arms around my neck and half-tackles me. I huff a relieved laugh as she whispers against my neck. “Of course it is. I’m so honored, Gideon. I… This nest is beautiful.”
That’s a generous description, and we both know it. I haven’t dedicated the time or attention I should have to making the space my own. Before, I wondered why my Omega didn’t push me more. Now, I’m starting to think he knew we needed Violet’s input all along.
“It has potential, I suppose. I haven’t really, uh, built it yet. Well, aside from a couple of things.”
With a nod, I direct her attention away from my chagrinned grimace, toward the pillow wall I built when we came in here last night. It isn’t lost on me that my Omega wanted extra softness behind Violet. I simply couldn’t rest until I knew she would be comfortable.