Chapter 64
sixty-four
There were plenty of reasons for me to be anxious about Violet’s heat.
Most of the little things haven’t turned out to be issues at all.
Finn took care of the food with a few whispered phone calls to a special heat-catering service.
I had no idea such a thing existed, but leave it to bougie-ass Finn to have them on speed dial.
By the following morning, we had multiple pans of ready-made meals waiting by our front door.
I thought Violet and Gideon might need more time with their nest, but it’s perfect.
The windows give me a view that keeps me calm—and the wildflowers in the meadow match the faux blossoms they’ve woven into the twinkle lights fastened along the walls.
Even the linens seem tailor made to remind us all of blue skies and fluffy white clouds.
I haven’t found it nearly as difficult being in here for days on ended as I expected it might be.
Maximus and Pascal have handled the transition well, too. I assumed they’d be antsy, but I’ve managed to duck out and feed them twice a day. Maximus knows better than to wander, and the weather has been nice, so he’s mostly spent his days lounging on the back patio, guarding the house.
My nightmares have been an issue. Though with the bond in place, and my packmates around, it’s turned out to be more of a setback than a catastrophe.
My Alpha seems to know enough to keep me semi-aware whenever it’s my turn to snuggle Violet.
When I tap out to rest, there’s always someone awake with her.
I keep my curtain open so they can nudge me in my sleep if my unconscious thoughts take a dark turn.
After four days, I’m hopeful that I may get to actually sleep with Violet, eventually.
As long as someone is willing to keep an eye on me.
Ironically, my main concern—all of our scents, all over me—hasn’t been nearly as rough as I anticipated. For one, being able to hear everyone’s intentions internally has done wonders for my Alpha’s reactivity. And, secondly… they smell good.
Our pack blends well together. Finn’s fancy citrus dribbled over Violet’s floral brightness.
Her honeyed sweetness melded with Gideon’s brown sugar notes.
His toasted nutty undertones blended with Atlas’s rich coffee aroma.
The creamy top note of our pack leader even goes with whatever bougie version of vanilla Gid claims I am.
Tonka beans, he corrects absently, primarily focused on Violet’s blonde waves. His gaze snags on a rumpled section, and he groans under his breath, his face despairing.
“Oh my God. This hair.”
I glance around the feverish angel sleeping between my thighs, trying to see what has our other omega so restless.
Her hair looks fine to me—although one of the wispy ends is crumpled under Atlas’s head while he dozes…
and another looms directly in front of Finn’s sleeping face.
Tickling his nose every time he inhales.
Gideon takes note and chuckles, gathering up as much as possible. I trace the loops of blonde streaming through his fingers, noting one particularly tangled segment. A wince creases my forehead.
Okay, fine. He might have a point about trimming her hair before her next heat.
I still answer with a grumpy huff, pulling our mate farther up my lap while she continues resting.
My nose skims her crown, inhaling her heat perfume and the incredible way it’s mixed with all of us.
My Alpha hasn’t bristled over it in days.
That’s a miracle, honestly, given how much perfume both of these omegas have pumped into their nest.
Our nest, Gideon interjects again, clearly eavesdropping on my thoughts. He shoots a chagrinned look over his naked shoulder, then shrugs. Sorry. Atlas isn’t awake, and his dreams are boring. So many damn books.
The fact that I truly don’t mind which of my thoughts any of these fuckers hear is another unexpected development. If anything, having them listen to some of my more twisted musings has been good for me.
I spent years convinced Atlas would never want the rest of his pack anywhere near the shadowy canyons carved through me. I didn’t expect them to meet my Alpha with concern and reassurance.
Gideon snorts. That’s because you never tried.
Right again, the brilliant little bastard. I glower anyway, snapping my hand toward him. “Brush.”
Gid rolls his eyes, muttering incoherently as he repeats his complaint in our pack bond. Might have liked you better when you couldn’t talk.
There’s so much fondness layered under his exasperation, it’s impossible to take him seriously. In fact, after four days of being bonded, I’ve come to realize that his snark and sarcasm are mostly just bluster. Really, his heart is nearly as large as Violet’s.
Not quite, he thinks back, quietly casting the woman curled in my lap a shy smile. No one’s is, though.
Out loud, he sounds just as grumbly as I do. “Here,” he says, “Hairbrush. And it’s time for her lunch.”
I nod, a rush of gratitude flowing into the bond.
Having Gideon here has been a godsend. He’s always level-headed enough to keep us on schedule for Violet’s meals and grooming—but he’s also been a great source of comfort for her, with intimate knowledge of exactly what it feels like for our girl to go through her first heat.
While I shift her into the crook of my arm and begin slowly dragging the brush through her hair, Gideon’s voice echoes inside me again, addressing the anxiety swirling in my center.
You’re doing great, Ryker, he assures. She’s been so open and sweet with you this whole time. She can definitely feel how much you love her.
It helps, knowing she can sense it internally. Even now, as she dozes… I send her a warm rush of affection, and her lips tremble as she turns to bury her face against my bare chest.
I’m here, daisy, I murmur through our tether. I’ve got you.
Violet whimpers in her sleep, nuzzling mind-melting perfume along my sternum. My knot tweaks against her ass, and she clamps her thighs together on another soft whine.
Gideon hears her and casts a calculating glance at Atlas, wondering if he ought to wake our pack leader. Instead, he crawls to me and Violet, bringing a bottle of water and another brush.
“Here,” he murmurs. “I’ll help you braid this so we can get her on your knot.”
Relieved appreciation rises inside me again. My Alpha watches the other man cup Violet’s cheek, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he begins combing through the ends of her hair. The voice at my middle nudges me, begrudgingly offering an idea.
It’s half-baked, at best. But I still clear my throat, rasping, “You know… I could do this stuff for you. During your heat.”
Gideon pauses, his bright eyes slanting up at me in utter disbelief. I nearly cringe as they bounce over my expression, reading my fumbling mind.
I might never be able to… be with another omega, after everything.
And I’m not immune to your perfume or anything…
but my Alpha is scared of omegas who aren’t Violet.
I could still be here for your heat, though.
As, like, your support person. Make sure everyone else is eating and resting and has supplies. Shit like that.
It won’t be exactly the same, I know. Gideon has taken Violet multiple times each day, always happy to fill her with his scent or hold her while someone else knots her.
I may not be able to sustain that sort of physical closeness with anyone other than Violet, but I can help as much as possible. Be part of the pack…
Gideon follows my clumsy train of thought. His eyes gloss for a second before he blinks hard, jerking a nod and coughing over a whine of longing. “I, uh—Yeah. Yes. That would be good. Great.”
His Omega must really like the idea, because his scent sweetens. His lips quirk into a small, timid smile. “Thanks, Ryker.”
I nod back at him, following his lead when he sets to work on Violet’s hair. Within ten minutes, it’s securely fastened, and Gideon reverently kisses the curled end clasped between his fingertips.
My Alpha shifts again, shoving my attention to the crease forming between Violet’s brows.
Instincts swarm me. My blood heats. “Wake Atlas,” I husk.
There’s no need, though. Our pack leader senses her next surge as keenly as I do. His gaze snaps open, flying across the nest. Gideon’s smirk is self-satisfied, as if he’s so damn clever for obviously choosing the very best alpha around.
Well, it’s true, he thinks, lightly kicking Finn’s shoulder. This knot-head on the other hand...
Even half-asleep, Finn’s brain is incessantly positive. You picked me, too, he chirps, rubbing at his eyes with a sleepy grin. Such excellent taste, pipsqueak.
Violet would normally be giggling, right about now. An echo of wistfulness whispers through my chest, missing her even as her Omega blinks awake, peering up at me with dark, glassy eyes.
A pang strikes my heart. Because, damn it, I love them both so much, sometimes I can’t fucking breathe.
Atlas sweeps a stilling blend of calm and empathy into the bond. They know, Ryker, he assures me. See how she looks at you?
He’s right. Utter reverence fills her gaze, even though she doesn’t understand what’s going on or why she’s here. Because she knows me. And trusts me enough to shiver in my arms, her next whine bordering on distressed.
Finn crashes down beside us, plucking one of her limp hands from my chest and kissing her knuckles, scraping the thin skin with his teeth. When she perfumes harder, he gives her a soft-eyed grin.
“Hi, baby,” he whispers. “How’s my girl?”
I’m not sure how this fucker manages to be a total flirt and the mushiest man among us at the same time, but it’s the primary reason my Alpha hasn’t tried to throttle him yet.
I still growl under my breath when he slides his lips to Violet’s wrist, teasing Gideon’s bite until both omegas perfume again.
Finn’s smirk kicks up. “Oh, I see,” he hums, eyes dancing on her face. “It’s like that, is it? You need a knot? Or maybe more than one?”
Violet keens, swaying forward to reach for him. Her motions are uncoordinated, though, and she nearly misses. Her confusion thumps into our bond, followed by a bolt of skittering nervousness.
I catch her hips, holding her steady. All the amusement flees Finn’s face. Adoration replaces it, glowing in his ocean eyes as he pulls her into his body. “That’s okay, honey,” he whispers, rubbing his scent all over her face. “We’ve got you.”
Atlas purrs and leans between us, checking Violet’s temperature with a soft kiss. A thud of surprise beats in the bond. Still very hot, he tells us. Likely another big surge coming.
To Violet, though, he’s all affection and approval. “You’ve done so well, baby girl,” he hums. “I think you deserve a special treat.”