Chapter 18
I ease Zeke and Dellie down onto the bed, helping to adjust them so they are lying on their sides and Zeke's back isn't too distorted.
I have to remember to make sure he only knots her sitting or kneeling from now on. Less torque on his back during aftercare that way.
Wait. Shit. I keep thinking about her like she's ours. Permanently ours. I have to be sensible about this.
But I don't want to be sensible.
They're locked together, still torpid with afterglow. Seb crawls over next to them, burrows his head between Dellie's outstretched arms, and nestles back into her, being her little spoon. He closes his eyes, a loose grin on his face, as she strokes his hair.
He's not cracking jokes. He's not tugging a laugh out of people at his own expense. He's not hiding something he doesn't want us to see behind humour. His face lights up with quiet joy as she whispers something in his ear.
I don't think I've ever seen him look like that before.
Seb's been so tired lately. Too tired. He finds it so hard to get to sleep most nights.
And he would never forgive me if I let him know I'd noticed.
He thinks he hides it well enough, but his little tells are there—the way his face flickers before he makes a self-deprecating joke when things are tense, the way his shoulders hunch when he thinks we aren't looking.
But the tension is seeping out of his body like water from a sponge. His face is softening into contentment as he drifts off to sleep in Dellie's arms.
Her scent wraps around us, cocooning us in floral comfort.
"Everything okay, lovely? Was it okay… did you like playing like that?" I murmur, keeping my voice low so I don't wake Seb, trying not to let her see just how scared I am of the possibility that I misread something.
Her smile is warm. "I haven't played a game like that before. But… I think it was fun. Yes."
Despite the warmth of her expression, the skin on her thighs is mottling, so I pull the duvet over the three of them.
There are goosebumps on Dellie's exposed arm, where the duvet isn't quite big enough to reach, so I tug another discarded blanket free, and drape it over her exposed flesh, and turn away to go and get the other things I need for their aftercare.
But there's a hitch in her breath that makes it sound like she's going to ask a question. I turn back towards her. The look on her face reminds me of my college days, when I worked as a waiter in a restaurant way fancier than I could afford to eat at, and a customer was about to ask for the bill.
Fuck that.
I lean across Seb's sleeping form and press a kiss against her forehead. "You know that it's an Alpha thing to look after omegas, right?" I keep my voice low so I don't wake Seb.
She's nodding, but the skeptical expression on her face doesn't seem to believe it.
There's a quiet growl from behind her. "Not just omegas.
Their packs, too. You'll know what he means if you try and stop him from looking after us.
" Zeke raises his head and blinks owlishly at me.
His whisper is soft, but there's a slight, amused sharpness in it.
"He confiscates Seb's phone whenever he catches him awake after midnight.
One time, Seb got antsy about it and took it back out of James' room—"
Oh fuck.
"Please don't tell her about that," I hiss, warmth sweeping over my face. "It was one time, and you know how much Seb loves bratting—"
Zeke smothers a laugh. "You confiscated his charger, got Allen to implement a 'no chargers in the bedroom' rule, and then edged Seb for five hours straight the next evening.
And you wouldn't let him cum until he promised to keep off his phone after midnight unless he was calling his family.
Then you told him that you wouldn't dominate him in bed again unless he agreed to having extended aftercare. "
My cheeks feel hot. "Proper physical care and emotional reconnection is important! Especially after an extended scene. And he gets so wired afterwards if he doesn't have it, and needs adequate sleep—"
"That's… incredibly sweet." Dellie glances at the content, sleeping form cradled in her arms. "Well, I'm not sure about the edging part. But the rest of it…" Her expression is wistful.
I shrug. "Seriously. Looking after people keeps my alpha happy. Especially after… any kind of, uh, game. So stop looking at me like I've forgotten to send you an invoice. It's making my alpha stress out."
Her lips purse. She shifts slightly as Zeke's arm tightens around her waist. He's not exactly glaring at me, but his raised eyebrow tells me he will be soon if I don't change the topic.
"Uh… sure. But you just do so much… and it doesn't seem fair…" Her mouth is twisting.
"I just do what makes me feel right. And it feels right knowing I've made you all feel better."
What I can't say is how much I liked that she noticed. I'm a bit embarrassed about just how good it makes my alpha feel.
Dimming the light on my way out of the room, I venture out to retrieve more Powerade and clean washcloths.
Allen and Clarke are curled up on the sofa, with Clarke's head resting on Allen's lap. Clarke is sound asleep, with his face resting in an expression of pure contentment. Allen's head is lolled back against the headrest. His lips are parted, his eyes closed, his face peaceful.
I don't remember ever seeing either of them so relaxed.
And… she saw me get in my head. She noticed how freaked out I got when we nearly hurt Zeke again. She saw me take Seb's joke the wrong way. But she didn't blame me or judge me and just… knew what to say to make me feel better about it.
I retrieve some more sports drinks, and run warm water over some washcloths. While I'm grabbing a bowl to carry them back into the room without creating a slipping hazard for the first person who gets up tomorrow, there's a rumble on the bench.
It's Dellie's phone, next to her purse. The battery icon is red, and apparently her phone is very angry about it. It will go flat before tomorrow if it's not plugged in.
I glance at our pack charger station. All four cables are taken, and from the looks of each of our batteries, not really in a position to share. But Clarke always charges his phone in the bathroom on his fancy fast charger with the extra cable.
My feet are silent as I pad into the bathroom, Dellie's purse and phone in hand, and plug her phone in on the spare cable, leaving it on top of her purse.
The tension in my chest eases, knowing I've made her life fractionally better.
Her dress lies discarded on the floor; I swipe it up from where it fell, hang it on the hanger on the back of the door, and leave her shoes on the floor in front of her purse.
Even if I can't get Zeke to relinquish her underwear, at least she will be able to leave here not feeling like an afterthought. My chest throbs at the thought.
Fuck. Why does that hurt so badly?
I push it down. She gets to stay or go on her own terms. Her choice. But my alpha is… reacting at the idea of her leaving here tomorrow. He really, really wants her to stay—and stay on her own terms.
I don't care that we're packed into Clarke's parents' ridiculously small poolhouse. I don't care that we are supposed to be getting ready to see a client tomorrow.
I don't think my alpha wants to see another client again.
Ever. His hackles are raised at the thought.
And I, frankly, can't bring myself to care that this would throw away the last twenty years of building the business.
Or that not showing up would probably cost me my heat support license and our pack its heat supporter registration.
But the responsible part of me knows that I couldn't just abandon some poor omega, who hasn't done anything wrong, to suffer through her heat with no support.
It also knows that quitting today would kill our finances, and could land me with a fine that would break us financially.
Or worse, get me charged with professional neglect, and hauled in front of a judge.
I can't do that to my pack.
My stomach twists at the thought of what that would do to Allen and Clarke. How betrayed Zeke and Seb would feel. I can't bring myself to hurt them like that. But my alpha is guarding Dellie like she's… his. It's visceral just how much he needs her here, and for her to want to be with him.
I don't want to think about how he's probably terrified that, if I don't take good enough care of her, she won't. And I really don't want to think about how it's probably the same way he's terrified that the rest of the pack won't, either, if I'm not doing a good enough job of keeping them safe.
Me and my alpha still haven't quite worked through that one, and I haven't figured out where to start.
I want to run and tear something apart and scream.
… who supports you?
Good fucking question.
Right now, my omega and my alphas need aftercare more than I need to decide to throw caution to the wind. Future James can worry about that. Present James needs to worry about his people.
… oh…
Oh fuck.