Chapter Eight
Tomas
"Before I met you, if someone asked me if I thought there were bathtubs that could fit three full grown alphas, I would have said no," Charlotte says a little dazedly as she relaxes into the milky bath water.
She is still a little soft and silly in the afterglow of her orgasm, but he finds it doesn't annoy him.
It's even... cute. He never thought he would find 'cute' so incredibly appealing.
Tomas had had each of the baths in the upstairs bathrooms custom made to fit all of them. Bathing together was one of their fonder ways to bond in the evenings, and now with her joined in the mix, he could not deny how right it felt to have her centring them. How complete it felt.
After thoroughly scrubbing her clean in the bath, washing and conditioning her hair—with an apology from Alex that did not sound apologetic at all—Tomas watches as Silas carefully pats her dry with a decadently soft towel befitting such a soft omega.
As he watches his pack brothers envelope her in a fluffy robe and then lead her to the guest room, Tomas finds himself holding back, an ache in his chest that he did not recognize. Was that... longing?
She was so small compared to them, so fragile and delicate, and his protective urges surged in response. Claim her, his instincts growled. She's yours.
With a grunt, he forces his baser nature down. It was simply the natural response of an alpha to an omega. They had never managed to share one between them for long before for that exact reason.
"This is the guest room, but maybe one day it could be a nest," he hears Silas saying, carefully avoiding the girl's eyes, evidently not wanting to put any pressure on her.
She was such a skittish little thing, he frequently found himself wanting to pin her down and attempt to instill some of his confidence into her through brute force.
Tomas watches as she swallows hard at the words, but she says nothing in response.
Perhaps she is uncomfortable at the suggestion that they might want more from her.
Perhaps she is discomfited at the thought of mating a pack who were so much older than her.
That thought makes his heart pang unexpectedly.
The thought that she would one day mate an age-appropriate alpha that wasn't him was incomprehensible.
A red rage grows in response, feral and not at all amenable to reason.
Fuck, he couldn't let himself entertain these thoughts.
He had to control himself. She was theirs for now. That would have to be enough.
A dark thought appears in his head and just as quickly he dismisses it as he considers forcibly bonding her to ensure she might never leave. But it would not take even if he tried. A preaestral omega did not have the hormonal capacity to respond to an alpha's bite and form the bond.
The fact that it was an indescribable violation, worse than rape, was only the secondary reason why it would not be possible. And that realization shames him.
Drawn back to the present, he sees two gift-wrapped packages sitting on the nest. He knew what they contained, as he had been involved in the shopping spree for the omega over the last several days.
None of them could have overlooked how threadbare her clothing was, and it had been his own idea to provide her a more decent wardrobe. Silas had run with the idea, and he suddenly finds himself appreciating his brother's sentimentality, where before he had found it exasperating.
She had always worn the same three outfits when she worked in their office, always modest and understated, as if she didn't want to be noticed.
He had noticed her though. He had been curious about her lack of scent, assuming she simply wore scent blockers to the office the same way they did as a courtesy.
The knowledge that she had not yet perfumed filled him with concern.
Omegas could experience a delayed awakening if they were abused or malnourished or under extreme stress.
The thought of his omega suffering so much that her body could not perform one of its most base and intrinsic functions filled him with protective fury.
One again he has to stifle those instincts, forcing himself to stay present.
Her pouty little mouth drops at the sight of the gifts, and to Tomas' great horror, she begins to cry.
All three of them begin purring at once, nudging closer until their bodies surround her, an instinctual need to protect and soothe that he had never felt before, beyond routine aftercare for sexual partners. Was this how Silas felt with all his romantic partners? It was exhausting.
Yet, at the same time, it felt right to have her in the middle between them. Anchoring them to her and, he found, anchoring them to each other. Their mutual need to see her, touch her, and tend to her united them as much as their bond did these days.
"What's wrong, baby?" He can hear from Silas’ voice that his brother is trying to keep his words gentle, not wanting to upset her further.
He was the most nurturing of the three of them, always the caregiver of the group.
The way he fussed over women in the past had always galled Tomas. Until now. Until Charlotte.
"I've never gotten a gift before," she hiccups softly, her face hidden in Silas’ chest. She throws her arms around his middle and buries her face into him.
The sight fills Tomas with a brief pang of jealousy that he angrily stamps down.
His omega should come to him for comfort, his instincts seethed.
They knew she had been orphaned and had no family, but surely someone had taken care of her? Evidently, even Silas did not know how to respond to this statement.
"We want to take care of you," Silas finally finds a response, his voice still carefully controlled. "You are our responsibility now, sweetheart."
At his words, Charlotte suddenly straightens, staring up at Silas and then over at himself and Alex. She blinks several times as if in surprise, like she's been abruptly woken from a dream with a glass of cold water, and then her face goes strangely blank.
He doesn't know what to make of it. Was she uncomfortable at being called theirs? They had not discussed the topic of monogamy. Perhaps they would need to. The thought of her seeing anyone else filled him with that same boiling jealousy that threatened to overflow into his fists and teeth.
"Of course," she breathes, as if they had answered some question for her, and it didn't seem to be an answer she wanted to hear. "Thank you."
She approaches the bed and does not seem to know where to start. Alex sits next to her on the bed, offering her the first bag to open and teasing her about what was inside. Finally, her smile returns to her face, and Tomas feels his chest loosen again.
He nods at his pack brother behind the omega's back so she can't see and he sees a flash of concern in Alex's eyes in response, quickly covered by another smile as Charlotte turns to look at him again while she opens the other bag.
His brother's ability to lighten the mood had always been an asset to their pack, and he found himself even more grateful for it now.
Inside the bag were a pair of silky leggings in a merlot colour that he had thought would look stark against her skin and a camel-coloured cashmere tunic sweater.
They had tried to match her own cozy style, and he could not deny that the casualness of it suited her, even if it would have grated at him to see it on anyone else.
Structured and formal pieces would not suit her.
No, she should always be soft and comfortable with fabrics that suited her delicate skin.
The other bag had contained a French lace bralette and matching panties, which causes her face to redden with that charming blush of hers when she saw it.
He could not recall the last time he had slept with a virgin. Perhaps when he himself had lost his own virginity as a teenager? Yet her naivete and shyness only seemed to entice him more. She was theirs. Only theirs. The thought of anyone else touching her made him fight a growl.
He had always been possessive, but this was getting out of hand.
He needed to spend more time at the gym, he decides, working out this aggression.
He could not risk scaring or harming her due to his own shortcomings.
Shortcomings he was well too old to still be struggling with.
Like a teenage boy, possessive over the first pussy he gets a taste of. He seethes at himself.
"I don't know what to say," she says as she looks around her in wonder. Her hands keep moving from one fabric to the next, feeling each one between her fingers, her little mouth popped open in awe. "Thank you," she says at last. She cannot seem to meet their eyes again.
"We want you to be happy," Tomas says, his voice a low rumble, trying to fix whatever had upset her. "And cared for."
She looks up at him finally and he still finds himself unable to read her expression. "Should I put them on now?"
"If you want to. But you can wear whatever you want, sweetheart," Silas murmurs, leaning in close where he is sitting beside her on the bed and rubbing her back.
Tomas finds himself wishing she would say she wanted to wear some of their clothes, stealing them away for her little nest. The thought of her wearing their scents makes his cock harden again. The thought of her nest makes his chest heavy.
"Okay," she says hesitantly. "I just don't want to ruin them," she clarifies, chewing her lip.
Once again, none of them knew how to respond.
This nervous girl seems such a far cry from the happy, sated omega whom they had bathed in their cum an hour ago.
He did not know how to get that one back.
They had been so sure their gift would make her happy.
Omegas usually loved gifts. How could it have gone wrong?
"I should go," she says suddenly, standing up with a little sway before she rights herself. "It's late."
Silas frowns, but none of them want to argue with her if she wants to leave. It would be no good to make her feel more trapped. "Alright. I'll call the car for you."
She hurries into the bathroom and re-emerges wearing her new gifts. While they take the stairs to the foyer, Silas and Alex attempt to engage the quiet girl in idle small chat while awaiting the car that would take her away from them.
As she murmurs responses to them, Tomas cannot help but notice the way her hands keep running over the hem of her sweater, as if unable to stop herself from feeling the softness of the fabric beneath her fingertips.
Tomas finds himself idly planning. Would she like a blanket?
Perhaps a cashmere blanket? From that mill in Italy that they had ordered her sweater from.
He could sleep in it so it was covered in his scent, so she would always be thinking of him.
Even when she was curled up in it, away from them.
He forces himself not to think of her nest, not to let himself dwell on it or the roaring instincts inside him will take over.
His thoughts are interrupted when the car pulls up.
Alex seizes their omega one last time, making her squeak with surprise at being manhandled so abruptly.
He watches as his pack brother begins running his hands up and down her body greedily, pausing in the dip of her waist and over the small swell of her hips as if trying to memorize every line of her.
He guides her face back to his and leans down to kiss her.
"When will I see you again?" he hears Alex murmur against her lips.
The soft, relaxed girl seems to return for a brief moment. "I'm not working Tuesday," she whispers. Alex presses another kiss to her lips.
Tuesday was three days away.
"What about tomorrow? We can have brunch," his pack brother offers. Bars were rarely open on a Sunday. Another kiss.
"Tomorrow could work," she says, looking dazed as he continues to kiss her between questions.
"Tomorrow then," Alex agrees, pulling her in deeper to his kiss. The jealousy in his chest threatens to roar to an inferno that he swiftly tramples down once again.
There was no room for jealousy in their pack. She was not a finite resource he needed to hoard.
But as they watch her walk to the car to leave them, he cannot help feeling as if that may be a lie.