Chapter 39
Hestia
As promised, Orion made me a doctor’s appointment to ensure I’m healthy after having a heat out in the “wilderness.” I would protest that it was hardly risky since we were in a cozy little cabin, but I wanted to get better suppressants, so I let him make the appointment without comment.
After being thoroughly checked out, the doctor said I was a perfectly healthy omega, as expected. He said the stress of the storm likely caused the heat breakthrough, but it left me with no lasting effects.
I’m proud of myself that I didn’t let that explanation make me spiral into thinking I’m not suited for being a rescuer just because I’m an omega.
Instead, I bullied the doctor into giving me extra-strength suppressants. He was hesitant since they can be harmful with long-term use, but I convinced him it’s temporary and important for my career.
I can’t have another heat until my training is over. I doubt HR would be okay with my bosses helping me out in a non-emergency situation, and I can’t stomach the thought of anyone else touching me.
Since my doctor’s appointment, my team hasn’t mentioned my heat as we all try to go back to normal.
Cato still hovers around and teases me, but he hasn’t crossed the line into anything romantic. The others cook and clean and take care of me just like they did before.
But no more helpful bathing.
No more kisses.
No more fucking.
It’s been terrible.
I can’t even cuddle up with them in front of the fire after a hard day of work.
Okay, I guess I kind of cuddle with them, but it’s still platonic sitting-close-to-each-other cuddling. I’m not crawling into their laps or turning the cuddling into slow fucking on the couch.
What better way to decompress after a hard day than to fuck your teammates?
Why doesn’t everyone live with and date their coworkers? That really seems like the solution to all of life’s problems.
Oh, right. Most people probably aren’t attracted to their coworkers.
I looked into the company policy again to see if I was remembering the rules correctly. And yes, annoyingly, our employee handbook says we’re not allowed to date a direct report.
Stupid good workplace that looks out for its employees.
The handbook mocked me further by explicitly stating you’re allowed to date other employees if you have the same job role. Really rubbing it in that as a trainee, I’m not allowed to date my bosses.
Yet I can’t bear to be separated from them, even if it means I must suffer through looking at their handsome faces all day while not being able to sit on their cocks.
The guys, meanwhile, have been orbiting me until suddenly they’ll realize they’re too close and back off. They’re obviously acting like interested alphas, so at least I know I’m not alone in wanting what I can’t have.
“Do you think we need more powdered sugar?” Charm asks, interrupting my sad, horny thoughts.
“A little more right here would be good,” I say, pointing at a sparsely sugared spot on our gingerbread roof.
He nods, face serious, as he carefully sprinkles the powdered sugar on it. When he’s done, Charm looks to me for approval, and I nod back.
I resume making our marshmallow snowmen while he adds red and green candy-coated chocolate to the roof.
The kitchen island is covered in candy for our gingerbread houses, which are in various states of construction. Holiday music plays in the background while we work.
Orion curses quietly as a piece falls off his house.
It’s not the first time that’s happened. I offered to help him earlier, but he said he had it under control. I suppose it’s possible he’s going for the rustic look on purpose, like an eclectic gingerbread person lives there.
Orion’s chimney breaks off for the third time, flattening the lopsided snowman that was unfortunately standing underneath.
I turn my giggles into coughing, but Cato doesn’t have my decorum, openly laughing at Orion’s construction woes.
Orion tosses him a quick glare before picking up the pieces to fix it.
Cato, meanwhile, somehow managed to get powdered sugar all over his bare chest and sweatpants. Probably because he’s lying on the counter as he works, propped up on his elbow next to his gingerbread house.
Before we started, Charm claimed he wasn’t very good at food decorating and asked to work together. My omega was thrilled, thinking he just wanted an excuse to play house with us.
Now, I have to admit I think she was right. Charm has done everything perfectly, perfect icing, perfectly straight walls, perfectly placed gumdrops. He clearly didn’t need my help at all.
I don’t mind his little ploy though. It’s been fun working together.
Henri made the gingerbread pieces for us this morning before work so they would have time to cool. After we finished our tasks for the day and returned to the station, he set up our gingerbread house-making activity.
I don’t know how he manages everything, making our meals, taking care of the station, doing our rescuer work, and planning fun things like this.
Henri’s gingerbread house is a precise miniature replica of the station, complete with colorful candy lights.
Cato’s gingerbread…creation, on the other hand, is more like a fortress. He somehow reshaped his house pieces into a totally different layout.
I watch as he arranges another broken, jagged candy cane around the exterior, and can’t help asking, “What’s the inspiration for your decor?”
Cato grins and says, “It’s a castle with various defenses, as you can see. And here in the middle is the keep where you’d be safely locked inside.”
That’s kind of concerning, yet also somehow a little sweet and hot that he wants to lock me in a tower. As long as they spend plenty of time in there with me.
I’m thinking too hard about this. I’m sure he’s just joking.
“It looks great. The best gingerbread castle I’ve ever seen,” I say.
Cato is pleased by my compliment, but Magnus heaves a sigh and says, “You can’t use your gingerbread house to plan to lock Hestia up.”
“It’s not like I’d give this to the builders as the blueprint. I’ll have actual plans drawn up,” Cato says.
Magnus makes another aggrieved noise and hangs his head, bracing himself on the counter.
“He’s just kidding,” Orion quickly reassures me while Cato smirks at me behind his back.
“There’s that new guy in Starsfalls who’s supposed to be some bigshot architect. I could call him,” Cato says.
Orion is still trying to convince me he’s kidding, and I assure him I know it’s a joke.
They’re obviously used to Cato’s antics, so once his packmates see I’m not taking him seriously, they ignore him. Cato gives up now that he’s not getting a reaction out of anyone.
After a few minutes, Henri says, “It’s not a bad idea to add some extra security though.”
That reignites the argument. Everyone seems to have a different idea about what’s going too far for home defense, er, security.
“It’s not a dungeon if it’s above ground,” Cato says.
“It’s a dungeon if it’s made of stone and the door locks from the outside!” Charm replies.
“That’s not technically the definition of a dungeon,” Orion says.
They go back and forth until finally I can’t hold it in any longer. I burst out laughing, hiding my face in my hands in an attempt to stifle it.
Cato isn’t content to give up just yet, and says, “I don’t see how it could hurt to improve the fortification of our station.”
“Maybe so, but surveillance is one of the best defenses. We should start by adding more of those,” Henri says.
“What, like cameras? Where do we have those?” I ask.
No one answers, and suddenly they’re all very busy decorating their gingerbread houses. Even Cato has his head down over his gingerbread castle, red hair obscuring his expression.
“What kind of surveillance are you talking about? The trail cams?” I ask again.
We have those set up around the mountain to keep track of wildlife.
Orion clears his throat, but he’s looking at Henri.
Magnus shifts and Henri jostles like he nudged his leg. Henri finally gives up on pretending to add icing to his roof and faces me.
“I have security cameras set up around the station, inside and out. Cameras are one of my…hobbies, so I’m the only one who really looks at the footage. I’m sorry, I should have mentioned them before. They’re only in common areas, none in the private rooms,” Henri says.
I’m mostly surprised I haven’t noticed his hobby before now. I’ve never seen him fiddling with cameras or looking at recordings. Although now that I think about it, he’s usually the one who adjusts our trail cams when we check them.
Is Henri using the cameras to watch us too, or is he just into the security tech aspect of it?
Does he check on us throughout the day to make sure we’re okay?
Does he look at the recordings late at night when he’s all alone?
If I had recordings of them cooking and getting all sweaty, or gardening with muscles bulging, or a half-naked Cato lounging in his sweatpants, I might be tempted to watch while I’m alone in my nest…
This would explain how Henri always seems to know where I am. He often appears with snacks and drinks when I need them, or stops me just as I try to sneak in a household chore.
For some reason I thought that was a special skill he had, like Henri is so attuned to taking care of the station, he senses everything that goes on in it so he can be the perfect host.
But apparently Henri’s special skill is using surveillance cameras.
Is it weird that I think it’s hot my alpha is watching over me no matter where I am? As long as he doesn’t judge me for doing something embarrassing.
“I didn’t realize you were into cameras. They’re so well placed, I never noticed them,” I say.
“I’m sorry, Hestia. We usually tell our new recruits about the security cameras. It must have slipped my mind,” Orion says.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind. You said there aren’t any in my rooms, right?”
“Of course not!” Orion hastens to say.
“No, I wouldn’t do that without—I wouldn’t do that. The closest one is in the hallway outside your rooms,” Henri says.
“That’s fine then,” I say.
Cato catches my eye and smiles as he adds another tiny black licorice dot to his castle. It’s covered in them, and it takes me a second to realize the licorice is supposed to be little cameras. I huff a laugh.
We finish our gingerbread houses without further arguments or revelations.
Henri shoos us out of the kitchen temporarily while he prepares some surprise for us.
We go to the living room to relax while we wait.
I’m on the couch, my legs stretched out toward the fire. Magnus and Charm are next to me, close enough that our sides are pressed against each other. Cato slid in to sit on the floor between my legs.
None of us comment on it.
Henri calls us back to the kitchen where we walk in to find the sideboard converted into a gingerbread village.
It has the houses (and castle) we decorated, but now they’re surrounded by candy landscaping.
There are evergreen trees made of green licorice strips, a gingerbread sidewalk, and marshmallow mountains in the background.
The marble countertop is covered in a mix of sugars to mimic rolling, snowy hills.
I move closer to admire everything, noticing the small details Henri added, like the little marshmallow bushes covered in “snow” and a pond made of coarse blue sugar.
The gingerbread house Charm and I made is in the center. The garden path I laid lines up perfectly with the sidewalk Henri created.
Cato’s castle is on the edge of our village, all pointy ends and solid walls surrounding the central tower. I don’t think there are even any decorative pieces on it, everything he added is some sort of defensive mechanism. It’s alarming but surprisingly well-constructed.
Orion’s house ended up being neat and simple. The few decorations he got to stick look nice, and he even managed to remove the excess frosting that he kept accidentally dripping on it.
Henri’s house is so realistic, he even colored in some of the windows with yellow frosting to mimic the glow of the lights inside.
Magnus’s gingerbread house looks just as sweet as he smells. It’s the classic style with scalloped shingles and little decorations on the sides. The door is flanked by candy canes, and it has a peppermint walkway. In the yard, there’s a small mint green marshmallow cut into a frog shape.
“I thought the house needed a Pete to protect the gardens,” Magnus says.
“It looks so cute! He’s much sweeter this way.” I think I accidentally mutter that last part out loud.
I can’t help it though. The other day when we were gardening, Pete kept kicking dirt on me whenever Magnus looked away.
I made him mad because I repotted a plant that apparently he uses as one of his homes.
Pete has plenty of nests in other places, so it’s not like I took away his only one.
Magnus repots plants all the time and Pete never gets mad at him.
“How do you like our village?” Henri asks me.
“I love it. It’s so cute, and it smells amazing,” I say, inhaling the sweet and spicy aroma of the gingerbread and candies.
“Our gingerbread house turned out great, thanks to your ideas,” Charm says.
“It did turn out well, didn’t it?” I say.
Our house isn’t as perfect as Henri’s replica or even Orion’s simple gingerbread house, but its mismatched decorations have their own charm. I’d describe it as whimsical because I kept thinking of new things I wanted to add as we went.
The others compliment our house too, and I quickly realize I need to get them to stop. It’s reminding me too much of the way they talked during my heat. I might not have asked them to talk me through it if I’d known it would make me this hot when they praised me from then on.
“Thanks for putting this together,” I tell Henri, attempting to turn the attention away from me. “I had fun. It’s been years since I did that.”
“It was my pleasure. We’re on call a lot, but we should still take time to ourselves when we can. We need more than the job, as important as it is,” Henri says.
“Right,” I say, looking away.