Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Norah
Dorian doesn’t say much as we pull out of the drive.
The quiet feels earned. Heavy in a good way. My body is still sore in places that make me blush when I think too hard about it, my skin extra sensitive where hands and mouths and teeth were everywhere for days.
Jude’s shirt hangs off one shoulder, soft and worn and smelling faintly like soap and sawdust. My sweater is wrapped around me more out of habit than necessity, and Dorian’s coat is draped over my lap, his warmth still caught in the lining.
I feel… full.
Not stuffed or overwhelmed. Just held together.
Dorian watches the road, one hand resting casually on his thigh, the other tapping against the door. His jaw is shadowed with stubble, his hair still a little wild from the shower.
He looks tired. He looks satisfied. He looks like someone who showed up exactly where he was needed.
I turn into town, the streets familiar again in a way that makes my chest ache. Life didn’t pause while I was cocooned in that house. It just kept moving.
Somehow, that doesn’t scare me today.
When I pull up near his place, he reaches for the handle before I’ve even fully stopped.
“You don’t have to,” he says easily. “I’ll walk the rest.”
“I can drop you at the door,” I tell him. “It’s not out of the way.”
He smirks, that knowing tilt to his mouth that makes my stomach flutter even now. “I’ll be fine.”
I sigh, but it comes out fond. I park anyway, just long enough.
He leans over and presses a kiss to my cheek. It’s gentle. Unrushed. The kind that says more than a thousand words ever could.
“Thank you,” I say, cupping his face before I can second-guess myself.
My thumb brushes over his cheekbone. His skin is warm.
Thank you for staying when it was messy.
Thank you for not flinching when I needed too much.
Thank you for touching me like I wasn’t fragile, like I was wanted, like I was safe.
Thank you for not making me choose.
Thank you for staying.
I don’t say any of that out loud. I don’t have to.
He kisses my palm, lips soft and gentle, espresso brown eyes never leaving mine. “I’ll see you at the market.”
“You’ll come?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
This kiss isn’t careful.
It’s deep and slow and full of promise, his hand sliding to my hip, thumb pressing into me through layers of fabric.
My breath stutters. My heart kicks hard against my ribs.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine for a beat. Then he’s gone, coat missing from my lap, presence still wrapped around me.
By the time I reach the flower shop, my heart is racing.
It was a near-perfect heat cycle. The words sit in my head like something sacred.
Not painless. Not simple. But cared for. Supported. Wanted by men who didn’t try to own me or fix me or make me smaller.
I step inside.
And immediately stop.
Wren and Beau are kissing behind the counter.
Not a polite peck. Not a shy brush of lips. This is full on, hands tangled, bodies angled together like they forgot the rest of the world existed.
I clear my throat.
Wren shrieks.
It’s loud. High-pitched. She wobbles, hands flying to her belly as she stumbles toward me, eyes wide with panic and then relief when she realizes it’s just me.
“Holy shit,” she gasps. “Norah.”
Her stomach is so much bigger now. Round and proud and impossible to miss. I laugh as she barrels into me, hugging me tight.
“Hey,” I say, squeezing back.
“Hey, babe,” she breathes, voice thick with emotion.
Beau lifts a hand in an awkward little wave. “Hey. You good?”
I nod. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“I’ll grab cocoa,” he says immediately, already heading out. “Extra marshmallows.”
The second he’s gone, Wren and I scream. Just pure, unfiltered excitement. She claps a hand over her mouth. “I can’t believe you caught us.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t lock the door,” I shoot back, laughing so hard my sides ache.
She grabs my hands. “Okay. How are you?”
I grin. “Great.”
Her eyes narrow. “Great, how?”
“Fucking fantastic.”
We dissolve into giggles, collapsing onto the stools behind the counter like teenagers with secrets.
And then I tell her everything. Every single explicit detail. The way they took care of me.
The way Ryker hovered without hovering. The way Jude anticipated my needs before I voiced them. The way Dorian never left my side when it mattered most.
Wren listens, eyes shining, hands resting on her belly. “You deserve that,” she says softly when I finish.
I swallow hard. “I know. And thank you for the berries. You didn’t have to go to all that trouble.”
She lets out a loud laugh. “Remember when it was my turn? You brought me flowers, and I can tell you they really helped me. It was nice to see them…after, you know, getting folded like a pretzel for a couple of days.”
That makes me almost choke in laughter.
“You filthy girl.”
“Norah, please. You were gone five whole days. You are hardly a saint.”
I’m still leaning against the counter, cheeks warm from laughing, when the bell over the door jingles again.
I turn, expecting Beau with cocoa.
Instead, it’s Simon.
He has a paper bag tucked under his arm and snow dusting his dark coat, curls a little damp from the cold. He freezes the second he sees me, brown eyes widening before softening into something warm and deeply relieved.
“Well,” he says, voice gentle and familiar in that doctor way that makes people breathe easier without realizing it. “There you are.”
“Hi,” I say, smiling before I even mean to.
He steps closer, setting the bag on the counter. “I ran into Beau on my way over. He said you were back. How are you doing?”
I open my mouth with a dozen answers lined up and settle on the truest one. “I’m really good.”
His gaze sharpens, professional instinct flaring, but not in a way that feels invasive. He’s assessing color, posture, and the way I’m standing easily on my feet.
“Any dizziness? Nausea? Residual pain?”
“No,” I say. “Just tired in a good way.”
He nods, satisfied. Then his attention shifts to Wren. He reaches out and rubs her belly with the back of his fingers, slow and absent-minded.
It’s the gentlest motion, practiced and protective all at once, and she leans into the touch like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Bagel delivery,” he says, nudging the paper bag toward her. “Everything bagel with extra cream cheese. You texted like it was an emergency.”
“It was,” she says solemnly, then grins. “You’re my hero.”
He laughs softly, eyes crinkling. “How’s the shop holding up?”
Wren snorts. “Running a flower shop while pregnant should count as an extreme sport.”
I glance around, really looking this time.
The place is stunning.
Buckets are full and overflowing, colors layered with intention. Winter greens and deep reds, soft whites tucked between bold pops of pink and gold.
Everything is organized, labeled, and displayed like care has been poured into every inch of the space.
“Oh, wow,” I breathe, turning slowly. “You guys did all this?”
Wren beams. “Caleb made deliveries this morning. And Beau helped rearrange the cooler.”
“It looks incredible,” I say, emotion pressing tight behind my ribs. “Thank you. Both of you.”
Simon smiles, already backing toward the door. “This is all Beau and Levi, I can promise you that. I was only supposed to bring my girl a bagel. I’ve got to get to the hospital.”
I step closer. “Thank you. For checking on me. For everything.”
He opens his arms, and I walk straight into the hug, his coat cool against my cheek, his hand solid between my shoulder blades. It’s comforting in a way that feels safe and familiar.
“Anytime,” he murmurs. “Call me if you need anything.”
I laugh as he lets me go and walks over to Wren. She giggles as he lowers her head to kiss her.
I keep myself busy admiring all the displays. Maisie would absolutely love how bright this place looks.
I’m surprised that despite how great of a week I’ve had, I still miss her.
When Simon leaves, the bell jingles softly, and Wren turns to me with eyes full of questions.
“Did we arrange them okay? I wasn’t sure if all roses need to be put in water. I had to Google a lot of this stuff. Your job is a lot harder than mine, I can tell you that.”
I hold up a hand. “Babe, sit. Please. Rest your feet.”
She huffs but does it, settling carefully onto the stool. “Fine. But only because you asked.”
I glance toward the back. “Where’s Pancake?”
She laughs. “Left him at home. He was extra grumpy this morning and bit Beau’s shoelace.”
I smile, warmth spreading through me. “This is perfect. You did everything so well. I can’t believe you handled all of this. I owe you so much.”
She tilts her head, studying me. “You are freaking glowing.”
I laugh, covering my face for half a second. “Am not.”
“You absolutely are. And that’s all the thanks I need. I like that my girl was thoroughly taken care of.”
I drop my hands. “Are you going into heat?”
She laughs, throwing her hands up. “Can’t a girl just like talking about sex?”
I cock an eyebrow at her and laugh when her cheeks actually turn pink. “Wren!”
“Fine. Fine. I’m just a little hormonal, so you know, it takes a toll. And you were just telling me about how three Alphas were fucking you into the mattress. It was bound to have an effect on me. Fuck, I miss sex.”
That makes me pause. “Babe, are you not getting laid?”
She presses her palms to her cheeks. “I am. I am. I mean, they’re great, and it’s all so amazing, but given this,” she points at her belly, “it’s a lot harder to be folded like a pretzel. I really miss when they would choke and knot me and all that. Now they worry about hurting me or the baby.”
“They love you.”
She smiles. “And I love them, and don’t get me wrong, I am getting laid. I just… I miss being in heat. It’s weird, but it’s kind of like a drug, you know? You get what I mean.”
“Euphoric!” I say simply.
“Exactly. After I’ve had this baby, and I have the go-ahead for all that, I’m thinking I might just stop with the suppressants once and for all.
Let nature take its course. We were all scared of what it would mean to be hot and bothered and unclaimed.
” She touches the visible bite marks on the side of her neck.
“But now I just want to give in to my Omega nature.”
She’s being serious about this. “Wow, Wren, I had no idea you were thinking about all of this.”
I feel bad, like I got so consumed with my own set of Alphas and abandoned her. When I voice my concern, she immediately gestures for my hand and squeezes it.
“You’re my best friend,” she says. “I get how a heat can warp your entire existence. I would never hold it against you. And you need to stop saying that. When it was my turn, you were there for me, no questions asked. You’re the godmother to my baby. You’re my entire world, Wren. You’re my family.”
“You’re my family, too.”
She wipes at her eyes. “Good. Don’t make me have to give this speech again. For now, I just wanted to talk it out. I’ll have the baby, and then I can discuss all of this with Simon. He’ll know what to do and what I can take from the apothecary to help with the transition.”
“Of course he’ll support you. Those men love you.”
“You think so?”
I squeeze her hand. “I know so.”
“I think your guys like you, too. Like, a lot, Norah. I’ve never seen them like this.
Every time I came by or called to check on you, I could hear it.
I don’t know how you’re handling the Dorian thing yet, and I won’t pressure you to talk it through until you’re ready, but I’m pretty convinced that those men, well, they care for you. ”
I didn’t even realize that I had a slight fear that what I was feeling was all due to the heat until she said that. “Thank you,” I say.
“You’re welcome, babe. And you’re the best, so I’m not surprised they’re this crazy over you.”
“Oh, stop it! Actually, there’s something I have to tell you.”
“What?”
“We’re going to have a stall at the market today.”
Her mouth falls open. “What?”
“The guys are building it right now,” I say. “Ryker and Jude.”
Her eyes light up. “They really have feelings for you.”
My chest tightens, but it’s not fear. It’s something softer. Something hopeful. “I might have feelings for them, too.”
She screams. I scream back.
We’re laughing so hard I have to brace myself against the counter.
“Okay,” she says finally, wiping at her eyes. “Let’s go through inventory.”
I nod, pulling out the clipboard. Snow is falling outside, soft and steady, the world wrapped in quiet.
As we work, I ask, “How’s your mom? And the café?”
Wren smiles. “Everyone is perfect. Mom’s divorce is going well. Her lawyer is really helping out. And she likes being busy at the café. It’s a great distraction for her. We all just missed you, Norah.”
“I missed you, too.”
I swallow, heart full, and get back to work.