Chapter 31
She wants us to be hers.
We're all tired and hurting and angry and stressed, but seeing her, hearing her say that she ran from us to protect us, that she wants us, makes so much of it fall away.
Not all of it. But enough so that my heart is able to slowly pull itself back together. Maybe I don't want to admit that her logic wasn't entirely flawed.
No matter how convoluted her reasoning may have been, no matter how much it hurt—she did what she needed to do to feel like she was protecting us. Having four big, bad alphas in your corner makes it too fucking easy to forget that there are different kinds of protection.
And hearing how much she wants us to belong to her… how upset she would be by having to share us with other omegas in heat… God.
And seeing her help Allen find himself again when he's like that… And now, she's melting into his kiss. Freesias unfurl around us. His hope is a beacon in the bond, flooding it with warmth and light.
Allen is deepening the kiss, but she breaks away, glancing between Zeke and James and Seb and me.
"For… for all of you? You… you want me, even if I'm asking you to—"
I clear my throat. "You aren't making us throw anything away, sweetheart. You're letting us put something down that we just figured out that we need to drop."
Her lip quivers. She glances at Allen's face, then throws herself into my arms and pulls me down into a fierce kiss. I can't think. I can't move. I'm lost in a field of freesias.
I don't know how much time passes before she gently pulls back from the kiss.
"We chose to work in heat support a long time ago. Now, we get to choose you," I mutter into her mouth.
"How do you always know exactly what to say?" she murmurs quietly against my lips.
I smile as I pull away from her mouth and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She leans against my shoulder and sighs. Tension ebbs away from her body. Zeke's small pang of jealousy throbs down the bond.
My smile widens. His bond is back. I can feel him again.
"Just for the record—it's not just my omega that's claiming you. You're mine." Her words, barely above the threshold of hearing, are just for me. I clamp my arms around her, pulling her tighter into my arms.
I don't need a bite. I don't need a ring. This is enough.
"Everybody decent in here? Adults adulting? Fully clothed?" The sharp Australian twang echoes around the room as the door cracks open.
Dellie bursts out laughing. "Sorry, Loz! We're decent."
Lauren Treloar, goddess of the screen, strides across the room and collapses on the sofa with a huff. Dellie turns in my arms and leans against my chest. God, it feels so right.
"Good, 'cuz if you lot had fucked on my formal couch without putting down a towel, we would be having words." She glares at us, but her eyes soften as they pass over Dellie. "Fuck, it smells like a fucking Victorian apothecary in here," she mutters.
Allen shifts uncomfortably, as James looks away and Zeke stares at the carpet. Seb, on the other hand, is grinning at her unabashedly. I try to suppress a smile, hiding my face in Dellie's hair.
"So. All good? The grown-ups in the room had a chat?"
I nod.
"Well, thank fuck for that, 'cuz there's still a few things we gotta discuss. Like my impending biological fucking crisis."
Allen gives his head a little shake, seemingly lodging his train of thought back into place. "Yes. Of course. We already discussed the refund and the breach of contract penalty, but you didn't say if you had alternative heat support available—"
A little crease flickers between her eye eyebrows. "Nobody who isn't fucking useless. You got any suggestions?"
Allen nods. "I've been reaching out to colleagues since yesterday morning. Only the trustworthy ones, of course."
She nods cleanly, her face firm. "Good."
"Let me just check for a moment." Allen pulls his phone from his pocket. His face falls. "Ah. Hm. One pack I was going to suggest, Pack Wiltshire—three alphas and two betas, we actually used to mentor them—they aren't available until next Wednesday."
He passes her his phone. "That's their pack summary. Four years on Heatseekers. Bakery-adjacent scent profile"
Dellie wriggles in my arms as she pulls her phone out of her pocket and flicks through her calendar.
"Technically, it's doable, but you'll only have three or four days for aftercare and recovery before you're needed for the first read of the Second Designation Project in Manhattan.
" She sighs, scratching her head. "And you wouldn't get to nest with your heat support. Would your omega be okay with that?"
Her mouth is a firm line. "Let's put them on the maybe pile. Any other options?" She hands Allen back his phone.
"Yes… let me see… ah—oh, no. I reached out to Pack Bramble, but they have a meat-based scent profile, and I remember you mentioning that on your incompatible scent list…"
Lauren scrunches her nose. "Ew. Yep, skip them. And—better update that list to include pungent fucking medicine cabinet," she mutters, with humour in her voice.
Seb chuckles.
"Will do, Loz." Dellie's laughter vibrates through me.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and read the new message.
My eyebrows shoot up. "Allen? Did you reach out to Pack Zed?"
"Yes, I did. Figured it was a long shot—"
"Leo just messaged me. Their omega season guest star pulled out at the last minute. Pack Zed can fly in tomorrow."
Dellie turns to Allen. "Pack Zed? Like, Heat Helpers Pack Zed?" I can hear the concern in her voice.
He nods. "Yes. I wanted to make sure Lauren has support, and I know how hard last-minute bookings can be, so I wanted to cover all bases. And they are some of the best—"
"They have a frigging TV show." Dellie's voice is sharp. "Discretion matters. Especially after what happened last time—"
"Y'know," says Lauren, relaxing into the sofa, "after what happened last time… might be nice to reclaim the narrative."
Dellie freezes. "… you… sure?"
Lauren shrugs. "They're fucking hot. They give omegas the final cut. Pack scent profile of Earl Grey tea with spiced fig biscuits, right?"
Allen nods.
"I can work with that. Get 'em to shoot through their paperwork. Tell 'em I'll need an NDA for the accent, the Antipodean distribution rights, and three point two five percent of the season's gross."
Allen's mouth is hanging open. I quickly shoot off a message to Leo.
"What? I'm providing the location and they're getting a Discie winning season guest star. I know my fucking worth," she says, winking at Dellie and me. "Oh, and Dels, once the paperwork's squared away, tell Ruby if she wants to do an on-screen nest consult, I'll need her here Thursday morning."
Dellie nods, tapping madly at her phone screen.
My phone vibrates again. I laugh. "It's Leo… I think you broke his brain a little," I say, showing her the row of exploding head emojis.
Lauren chuckles. "Which one was Leo again?"
"You were calling him His Betaness," hisses Dellie. "The one with the giant—"
My phone vibrates again. I scan the message. "He says thank you for your generosity, and are you sure because they would be happy to do four percent for you?"
Lauren shakes her head. "Three point two five.
I'm a fucking exacting producer. Tell 'em to consider it a goodbye present for the heat audio, and as compensation for them having to record voiceover for me on every heat scene.
If they really wanna give away their money, tell 'em to donate the difference to a good charity. "
I quickly tap back another message. Leo's reply is almost instant. "He says he just appreciates an omega who knows what she wants. Where should I send the paperwork to?"
"Clarke has my contact details and email, right?" Dellie asks, looking around at Allen.
"Yeah, I do."
She spins in my arms, and looks at me, the surprise on her face quickly giving way to understanding. "So it was you," she murmurs into my chest.
I nod. "Clarke's the public face. Only people I love get to call me Ralph."