Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Wren
When I wake, I’m wrapped in them. My whole body is cocooned in warmth and heat, Levi’s chest pressed to my back, Simon’s arm draped over my waist, Beau’s leg thrown carelessly across mine like he refused to let me out of reach even in sleep.
Their scents cling to me, to the sheets, to the walls themselves—cedar, cinnamon, peppermint, and that smoky undertone that is uniquely them when they are together.
It feels like I could breathe it in forever and never need another thing.
I lie there for a moment, listening to their breathing, uneven but deep, feeling the weight of their bodies anchoring me. I should want to stay, but the morning creeps in through the curtains, soft gray light telling me I have to move eventually.
Carefully, I ease out of bed, untangling myself from their limbs, pressing a soft kiss to each of them before slipping on one of Levi’s shirts that hangs halfway down my thighs.
Downstairs, the café feels different. Quieter. The chairs are stacked against the wall while Ryker and Jude finish the last of the repairs, but the place hums with possibility, as if it knows it will open again soon.
Pancake is waiting in the kitchen, tail wagging, brown eyes full of expectation.
“I know, baby,” I murmur, scooping his food into the bowl and watching as he dives in, snorting happily.
I lean against the counter, my phone in my hand, and for a long moment, I stare at it. Then I press call.
“Wren?” My mother’s voice comes through, soft and tired.
“Mom. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
She lets out a sound that’s half laugh, half sigh. “No, sweetheart. I haven’t slept yet.”
My stomach knots. “Why?”
There’s a pause. Then her voice lowers, like she doesn’t want anyone else on that boat to hear. “Your father… he’s found himself another distraction. A woman on the cruise. He’s rarely in our room anymore, barely sees me at all.”
I squeeze the phone tighter, my throat burning. “Mom.”
“It’s all right,” she says softly, as though she’s comforting me instead of herself. “It’s not like I didn’t see it coming.”
“You deserve better,” I whisper fiercely.
“I know.” The way she says it shatters me. Then she clears her throat and asks gently, “But why are you calling so early? Has something happened? Or…” her voice lifts, almost amused, “have you finally decided to tell me about your pack?”
My heart stumbles. “You… you know?”
She chuckles. “Wren, the town is full of gossip. Of course I know. It’s Willa, isn’t it? That woman couldn’t keep a secret if her life depended on it.”
I groan, pressing my palm to my forehead. “Ugh, Willa.”
“All of them,” my mother corrects with a chuckle. “Willa, Cora, June… you think I don’t have eyes and ears back home? Everyone has been talking about you and those three Alphas since the festival.”
I sit down at the counter stool, my pulse thudding. “Well, that wasn’t what I called for. Not exactly. I wanted… I needed advice. About the registration.”
Her voice shifts, gentle but serious. “With Miss Thea?”
“Yeah. The guys want to register. Make us official. I—I don’t know what to do. What do you think?”
My mother exhales slowly, like she’s been expecting this.
“Sweetheart, registration isn’t something casual.
It’s more permanent than anything else. It’s your scents blended and sealed in a public record.
It’s the government recognizing you as a pack under law.
Once you do it, you can’t just walk away without a full legal dissolution. ”
I bite my lip, my chest tightening. “So, you think I shouldn’t?”
She pauses, and I can hear the ache in her voice.
“It’s a choice only you can make, Wren. I did it with your father, and I regret it.
Not because of you, never because of you.
But because the bond made it harder to leave when I should have.
It held me in a place I should have run from years earlier. ”
I close my eyes, my heart breaking for her. “Oh, Mom.”
My mother is silent for a long moment. Then she sighs.
“It’s okay. I’m okay. What was I saying?
Okay, um… I registered. Your grandmother, on the other hand, never registered.
She had her Alphas, and they stayed with her until the end.
She outlived them all. Sometimes I think she regretted not registering because it meant her bond wasn’t protected by law.
Other times, I think she was grateful because it gave her the freedom to love without the paperwork, without the chains. ”
I blink at the tears stinging my eyes. “Grandma had a pack?”
“Yes,” my mother says softly. “Three men who adored her. I grew up watching them, thinking that was what love was supposed to be. Gentle. Fierce. Equal. It wasn’t until later, with your father, that I realized not all bonds look the same.”
My throat closes. “I don’t think I’ll regret it, Mom. Not with them. I love them. I really, truly love them.”
Her voice warms, soft but certain. “I know you do. I can hear it in every word.”
I draw in a shaky breath. “There’s… there’s one more thing I need to tell you.”
“What is it?”
The words stick, but I force them out. “I think I might be pregnant.”
There’s a beat of silence on the line, and for one awful second, I think the call dropped. Then my mother gasps, and the sound is pure joy.
“Oh, my darling girl.” Her voice cracks, trembling with emotion. “A baby. My baby is having a baby.”
Tears spill down my cheeks. “You’re not mad?”
“Mad?” She laughs through her tears. “Wren, you’ve just given me the happiest news I’ve heard in years. I am so proud of you. So happy for you.” Her voice softens. “This is what you deserve. To be loved. To have a family that adores you. And now, to give that love to your child.”
I press my hand to my stomach, overwhelmed.
“I’ll be coming home soon,” she says firmly.
“What about the cruise?” My voice wavers. “I thought you wanted to travel, to get away.”
“I thought I did. But now… I’d rather be home. With you. With the people who love me. That’s where I belong.”
My tears are hot, streaming down my cheeks as I choke out, “Come home, Mommy.”
Her voice is soft, confident, full of everything I’ve been craving since I was a little girl. “I will, sweetheart. I promise.”
We stay on the line a little longer, trading small words through our tears until I know if I don’t hang up now, I’ll never be able to.
When I finally end the call, I sit there in the kitchen, Pancake licking at my toes, my phone pressed to my chest. My heart is heavy and full and terrified all at once.
“You okay, baby?”
I look up and Simon is there, his glasses slightly crooked, his eyes soft but sharp in the way they always are when he’s dissecting me. He already knows the answer before I can speak, but I still shake my head.
My throat burns. The tears come again, even though I thought I was empty.
He doesn’t hesitate. He crosses the room, slides his arms around me, and pulls me against his chest. The world feels smaller there, the edges of everything blurring until all that’s left is the rhythm of his breathing and the quiet authority of his presence.
I bury my face in his shirt, the cotton dampening as the last of my sobs wrack through me.
His hand strokes my hair, slow and patient, like he has all the time in the world.
“You’re going to be okay,” he murmurs when I finally quiet, his thumb brushing under my eyes, wiping away the wetness. His voice is calm, certain, as though he’s stating a fact instead of offering comfort. “We’re going to be okay.”
I nod, my body loosening against him. For a long moment, I sit there, held together by Simon’s arms. Then footsteps creak on the stairs, and I look up to see Beau and Levi making their way down, both still rumpled from sleep.
Beau’s hair is a mess, his shirt clinging unevenly across his chest, while Levi is already pulling his hoodie over his head, his jaw shadowed and sharp.
“Morning, sweetheart,” Beau says softly, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead. Levi follows, his lips brushing the same spot like they’re marking me in unison, quiet claims that mean more than words.
Then Beau glances around the room, his mouth quirking.
“The café looks good. Better than good, actually. Jude and Ryker did a hell of a job finishing everything.”
I sniff, swiping at my face. “Yeah. It feels real now.”
Levi tilts his head, studying me. “Are you going to keep the name?”
I pause. The name has been my grandmother’s for so long, etched into every design, every late-night plan, every penny I scraped together.
“Yes,” I say finally. “Probably. It’s hers. She built it. I want the town to know it’s still hers.”
He nods, approval flickering across his face like he respects the claim. “Good.”
The kitchen fills with clinking and movement as Beau starts pulling out pans, muttering about bacon and eggs while Levi hunts down coffee. Simon squeezes my hand once more before letting me go, then he joins them, opening the fridge with that efficient precision of his.
I linger at the counter, watching them move together, three men who are nothing alike but who somehow function as if they’ve always belonged in the same kitchen.
Beau is humming under his breath as he flips pancakes, Levi is leaning against the counter while the coffee brews, and Simon is sliding fruit into a bowl. It’s so domestic, so ordinary, and yet it feels extraordinary to me.
By the time plates are on the table, the room smells like home—coffee rich and dark, bacon sizzling, syrup warm and sweet.
I tuck myself between Beau and Simon, and Levi takes the seat across from me, his eyes catching mine as if he needs to anchor me with that steady blue gaze.
The food is good, but it’s the company that fills me up. Every bite tastes like a promise, every laugh feels like a vow. For the first time since the pregnancy tests, since the storm of fear and what-ifs, I feel the whisper of peace.
Halfway through the meal, Beau sets down his fork, leans back, and glances between the three of us. His tone is casual, but there’s weight behind the words.
“So… we should probably talk about the future.”
My fork freezes over my plate. “The future?”
He grins at me, playful but serious under the surface. “Yeah, baby. Like, when the little one gets here, are we still going to cram into your apartment above the café? Or are we going to be smart and find a place that fits all of us?”
My heart stumbles. “You mean a house?”
Levi leans forward, arms crossed over the table, his expression calm but confident. “Exactly that. A house. With a yard. Maybe near the woods, so the kid grows up knowing what it feels like to run free. Space for Pancake to chase squirrels without ending up in the neighbor’s garden.”
Simon’s lips twitch as though he’s already considered this a dozen times in his mind. “And space for all of us to breathe. For the baby to have a nursery. For you to have a kitchen that isn’t half the size of a closet.”
I blink at them, my chest pulling tight. “You’re serious?”
Beau reaches for my hand across the table, his palm warm and rough. “Of course we’re serious. We’re not going anywhere. You’re ours. The baby is ours. And I’m not letting my Omega raise our child in a place that doesn’t feel like forever.”
Emotion swells so fast I have to press my free hand against my mouth. I shake my head, overwhelmed. “I don’t even know how to think about that. I just… I only just started believing this could be real.”
Levi’s voice cuts through gently. “Then let yourself believe it. We love you. That doesn’t change because life surprised us. If anything, it makes the bond stronger.”
Simon leans closer, his thumb brushing my knuckles. “We’ll take it one step at a time. Café first. Baby next. House after that. We’re not in a race, Wren. We’re just building a life together.”
I glance at each of them, their faces so different but carrying the same truth in their eyes. They mean it. They really mean it.
My throat clogs, but I push the words out anyway. “A house. With all of us. And a baby.”
Beau grins, Levi’s mouth softens, Simon’s eyes warm. For the first time, I can see it clearly—the kitchen with sunlight spilling in, the sound of laughter echoing down a hallway, a nursery painted in colors I haven’t even chosen yet.
Pancake curled up by the fireplace. My men, my Alphas, my pack, filling the space with the only thing I’ve ever wanted. Love.
I swallow hard, nodding. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
The room shifts again, lighter now, like the future has already cracked open and let us step inside.
Beau whoops and leans over to kiss me, syrup still sweet on his lips.
Levi raises his coffee in a mock toast. Simon squeezes my hand once more, and I know without a doubt that whatever comes, whatever storms or trials, I won’t face them alone.
The baby, the café, the house—it’s all ours. All of it.