Chapter 11
Eleven
Hilda
I wake slowly, every muscle in my body aching in the most thorough way possible.
My heat finally broke sometime during the night. I can tell because the insane, clawing hunger is gone. In its place is a bone-deep warmth and exhaustion that makes me want to sleep for a week.
I’m surrounded by warmth. Baylin’s on one side, Callum’s sprawled on my other side, Arkan’s head on my belly, their hands all over my body even in sleep.
My pack. My mates.
The bond in my chest hums contentedly, stronger than ever after days of constant claiming.
I shift slightly and immediately regret it. I’m so fucking sore. Everywhere. I grin to myself.
It was perfect. Exactly what I needed.
My hand drifts to my stomach, and I pause.
They said I’m pregnant.
Can I feel it? Is there a difference in me?
I don’t know. But the thought makes warmth bloom in my chest. Their pups. Growing inside me. Our family.
“You’re thinking loud again,” Baylin murmurs against my neck.
I giggle, guess that’s the new me now.
He nuzzles deeper into my side. “How are you feeling?”
The deep rumble of his voice, their combined scents, the heat of their massive bodies surrounding me… God.
“Sore. Exhausted. Thoroughly used.” I pause. “Happy.”
“Good.” His hand slides from my waist to my stomach, his large palm splaying where our pups are growing. “Our omega. Carrying our young.”
The reverence in his voice makes me want to cry.
Callum stirs on my other side, mumbling, “Heat’s over?”
“Yes, thank God.” I try to sit up and immediately wince. “How long…?”
“Seven days,” Arkan replies with a smirk, awake too now. He presses a kiss on my hipbone, hair messy, sleepy eyes, scruffy jaw. So damn beautiful, my heart aches.
“Seven days?” I stare at them. “I don’t even remember most of it.”
“Heat will do that,” Callum smiles, stroking my hair. “It takes over. All you know is need.”
“And you all… stayed with me the entire time?”
“Where else would we be?” Baylin asks, tilting his head to the side, looking and sounding genuinely confused. “Our omega needed us.”
I smile huge. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank us for taking care of what’s ours,” Arkan grumbles.
“Still.” I kiss each of them. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, little one,” Callum replies softly, squeezing my waist. “Now, how about a bath and food?”
“Both sound amazing.”
They help me to the bathing chamber…I can barely walk, my legs are so shaky. The tub fills and they settle me in the warm water, all three of them climbing in with me.
“I can bathe myself,” I try to protest weakly as Callum starts washing my hair.
“Let us,” he says simply.
So I do. Let them wash me, tend to me, care for me. It’s still strange, being cared for like this. But I’m getting used to it.
Getting used to being spoiled.
“When do you think…” I start, then pause.
“Think what?” Arkan asks, rubbing the tip of his nose on mine.
I peer up between my lashes. “When will I start showing?”
All three of them grin wide, making me laugh.
“Soon,” Baylin finally replies. “Wolf pregnancies are shorter than human ones. You’ll be showing within a few weeks.”
“How long until the pups come?”
“Four to five months instead of nine,” Callum explains. “Twins, maybe triplets.” He winks.
“Triplets?!”
“You have three mates, love,” Arkan points out, grinning. “Your body is designed to carry pups from all of us.”
I process this. Pregnant with multiples. Showing in weeks. Giving birth in months.
“That’s… fast.”
“We’ll be with you every step,” Baylin promises. “We’ll protect you. Provide for you. Make sure you and the pups are safe. Always.”
I feel their fierce protectiveness.
“I know,” I say softly. “I trust you.”
That makes all three of them purr with satisfaction.
After the bath, they carry me back to bed, and surrounded by my wolves, carrying their pups, bonded and claimed and completely theirs, I realize something.
I’m not the Evil Queen anymore. Haven’t been since the moment Callum scented me in the throne room.
I’m just Hilda. An omega with her pack. A woman who’s finally found where she belongs.
“I love you,” I whisper. “
“Love you too, omega,” Callum says.
“Always,” Arkan adds.
“Forever,” Baylin finishes.
Callum’s hand joins Arkan’s and Baylin’s on my stomach, all three of them touching where our pups grow.
“Our family,” Callum murmurs.
“Our pack,” Arkan says.
“Ours,” Baylin states simply.
“Ours,” I agree.
And then, because they’re insatiable and I’m theirs, they start touching me in different ways. Less reverent, more hungry.
“Again?” I ask, even though I’m already getting wet.
“Always,” Callum says, moving between my thighs with a wicked grin.