23. Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Three
Halley
Four marks decorate my neck and shoulders, with Blaze’s and Shade’s bites crossed over each other. Raised scars I can feel under each brush of my fingertips.
My heat has broken, and if it weren’t for my enhanced healing, I can only imagine what my body would feel like right now.
Six months ago, this much sex probably would have landed me on an I.V.
with a physiotherapy plan and a very sympathetic nurse.
I refuse to think too closely about the state of my pussy.
At the time, I didn’t understand why I was developing new abilities. Enhanced healing felt random, another strange part of me I hadn’t asked for and couldn’t explain.
Now it makes perfect sense.
How else is one Omega supposed to survive a heat with four mates?
I roll onto my belly and snuggle deeper into the fresh bedding. Shade has been diligent about keeping the nest clean, which can’t have been easy considering the amount of slick, sweat, and come we spilled into it.
I swear, I had no idea my body could produce that much slick.
I also had no idea an Alpha in rut could come that much.
Even with most of my heat blurred around the edges, I remember the deep, delicious ache of being filled again and again, each knot locking all that hot come inside me with nowhere else for it to go.
Rut-damn, it was a lot of spunk.
I lick my chapped lips at the memory, then sag with relief when it doesn’t spark another wave of heat.
I’m done. My body is loose, heavy, and thoroughly used, with no interest in starting all over again.
I keep my eyes closed and let myself rest, listening to the Pack move around our little cabin.
Our Pack den.
They’re talking among themselves, their voices low and familiar as they shift through the room, but I don’t have the energy to follow individual words.
I only want the sound of them near me. Knox’s rough command, Viper’s quieter replies, Blaze’s restless muttering, Shade’s steady voice weaving through all of it.
They’re here.
My mates.
I run my fingers over the marks on my neck again, tracing each raised scar with slow, careful touches. They’re proof written into my skin that I belong to them and they belong to me. It's evidence that I'm cherished, claimed, and theirs for good.
Even if the world ends, which seems horribly likely, I’ll still have this.
I should feel nothing except joy.
Part of me does.
I love the bites. I love what they mean. I love that each of my mates left a claim on me the world can’t deny, and my Omega settles deeper every time I touch them, pleased by the instinctive rightness of it.
But beneath that warmth, another feeling waits.
Confusion.
When the last set of teeth sank into my skin, I braced for the change Stone promised us.
I expected a power capable of saving our world.
I braced for the bond to surge through all five of us and become undeniable, official, and transformed. Stone made the claiming sound like the missing piece. The ultimate solution. The thing that would turn my Omega Command into a weapon powerful enough to save every Demi-human.
He led us to believe that only with those bites could we be considered a real Pack.
That without a claim from an Alpha, I was somehow unfinished.
Except the last bite healed into my skin, and the bond didn’t become something new.
It strengthened. I can feel that much. Knox, Viper, Shade, and Blaze are clearer to me now. Their emotions are easier to catch when I reach for them, and their thoughts come through with less effort. The connection feels deeper and steadier, but it doesn’t feel new.
That’s the part I keep circling back to.
No hidden level of Omega Command opened inside me. No sudden answer rose from the bond. Nothing world-saving rushed in to prove Stone was right.
My thoughts drift backward, away from Stone, his objectives, and the rules he placed on us. I think about each member of my Pack and the moments I felt our bond solidify into something real.
The first time Viper chose loving me over his fear of his Blood Lust.
The moment Shade decided to forge his own place in our Pack despite his insecurities about being a Beta.
When Blaze showed me all his broken pieces and trusted that I was okay with them never fitting back together.
And Knox.
When he accepted he wasn’t perfect and didn’t have to be for me to love him.
Those were the moments that changed us.
Not some ritual mentioned in an outdated book.
Choice.
It was us choosing each other, again and again.
They’ve seen me at my best and my very worst. They’ve seen me raw and broken, explosively furious and quietly frightened. They have certainly seen my self-consciousness reach neurotic levels and learned that I can be recklessly stubborn.
Even when the rules forbade it, they didn't stop choosing me.
They’ve handed me their hunger, their damage, and their worst impulses, and even though I broke their trust once, they chose forgiveness.
And in return, I gave them the most vulnerable part of me, the part that used to believe love always came with conditions, and they met it with the same promise every time.
You’re safe.
You’re wanted.
You’re ours, even on your worst days. Maybe especially on your worst days.
My fingers skim the scars again, and the ache settles into warmth.
The bites matter. Of course they matter.
They’re beautiful and permanent, and I’ll cherish them for the rest of my life. They strengthened what already existed between us, deepened the connection, and gave the world something visible to see when it looks at me.
But they didn’t create our Pack.
We became a Pack the long way by learning how to love each other with our flaws showing and choosing to stay anyway.
Stone was wrong.
We were already a Pack all along.