Epilogue
Sharon
The morning sun filters through the bedroom curtains in stripes of gold and amber, warming the tangled sheets around me.
I blink awake slowly, registering the familiar weight of Cassian's arm across my waist, the warmth of Jett's chest pressed against my back, and Pine's fingers tangled loosely in my hair.
Six months of waking up like this, and I'm still not used to it.
Still not used to the fact that this is my life now.
Still can't quite believe I deserve it.
My stomach rolls, and I freeze. Oh no. Not again.
I've been telling myself for the past two weeks that it's just stress.
That planning Hazel Whitlock's destination wedding from Pine Hollow is making me nauseous.
That the exhaustion is from taking on too many clients.
That my heightened sense of smell is just my omega senses going haywire because I'm surrounded by three alphas 24/7.
But I can't ignore it anymore. Not when Cassian's cologne, which I usually love, is making me want to gag.
Not when the thought of coffee, my one true love, makes my stomach flip like a gymnast. Not when my breasts are so tender that even the soft cotton of the sleep shirt I stole from Pine feels like sandpaper.
I'm pregnant.
The realization hits me like a freight train for the thousandth time this week, but this morning it feels different. More real. Because I'm not just suspecting anymore. I know. Deep in my bones, in the way my body feels foreign and familiar all at once, I know.
"You're thinking too loud," Jett mumbles against my shoulder, his voice rough with sleep. "S'too early for whatever crisis you're having."
"I'm not having a crisis," I whisper, which is a complete lie.
Pine's fingers tighten in my hair, a gentle tug that makes me shiver. "Your heart's racing, sweetheart. You okay?"
"Fine. Perfect. Never better." My voice only cracks a little.
Cassian's arm tightens around my waist, pulling me closer. "Sharon."
Just my name, but it's enough. It's always enough with them. The way Cassian says my name when he knows I'm lying, when he's giving me space to tell the truth without pushing. The way he trusts me to get there on my own.
I take a shaky breath. "I think I'm pregnant."
The words hang in the air for exactly three seconds of absolute silence. Then chaos.
Jett sits up so fast he nearly knocks me off the bed. Pine's hand freezes in my hair. Cassian's entire body goes rigid behind me, his arm still locked around my waist like he's afraid I'll disappear.
"You think or you know?" Pine's voice is carefully controlled, but I can hear the edge of something wild underneath.
"Think. Pretty sure. Like, ninety-nine percent sure." I wiggle around to face them, and the movement makes my stomach protest. "Okay, definitely sure."
Cassian's hand splays across my stomach, tentative and reverent. "How long have you known?"
"I've been suspicious for about two weeks, but I was in denial.
Then this morning I woke up and just... knew.
" I bite my lip. "I know we haven't really talked about kids yet, and the timing is terrible because Hazel's wedding is in two months and I'm supposed to be flying to Hawaii, and I just took on three new clients, and. .."
"Sharon." Jett cups my face, forcing me to meet his eyes. They're bright with something that looks suspiciously like tears. "Shut up."
"Excuse me?"
"You're spiraling. Stop." He kisses me, soft and sweet. "This is good news. This is the best fucking news."
"Language," I mutter against his lips. "The baby can probably hear you."
Pine makes a sound that's halfway between a laugh and a sob. "You're worried about Jett's language? Really?"
"I'm worried about everything. That's kind of my thing." I look between the three of them, these gorgeous, impossible men who somehow chose me. "Are you guys okay? Because you're all being weirdly quiet, and it's freaking me out."
Cassian's hand is still on my stomach, his palm warm through the thin cotton of Pine's old shirt. "I'm trying really hard not to lose my mind right now," he says quietly. "You're carrying our pup."
"Our pup," Pine echoes, wonder coloring his voice.
"We're going to be dads," Jett says, like he's testing out the words.
I watch them process it, these three alphas who've given me everything.
Cassian's eyes are suspiciously bright, his jaw tight like he's trying to hold back emotion.
Pine's got that look he gets when he's overwhelmed, like he's seeing something beautiful he wants to capture but can't quite grasp.
And Jett, my action-oriented, never-sits-still Jett, looks like someone just gave him the moon.
"We're going to be dads," Jett repeats, louder this time. Then he's grabbing me, pulling me into his lap, his face buried in my neck. "Holy shit, Sharon."
"Language," I say again, but I'm crying now too, big ugly happy tears that won't stop. "The baby..."
"The baby's going to have to get used to Jett's mouth," Pine says, wrapping around me from behind, sandwiching me between them. Cassian joins the pile, his arm around all of us, and we sit there like that for a long moment. A tangle of limbs and emotions and utter disbelief.
"I haven't taken a test yet," I finally say. "I should probably do that before we completely freak out."
"Too late," Cassian says. "Already freaked."
"Yeah, but we should confirm it before you start building a nursery."
Jett pulls back just enough to look at me. "Bold of you to assume I'm not already mentally designing it."
"It's been five minutes."
"Five minutes of knowing I'm going to be a dad." He grins, that wild reckless grin that made me fall for him in the first place. "I'm efficient."
Pine kisses my temple, soft and lingering. "We should get you to a doctor. Make sure everything's okay."
"And buy pregnancy tests," Cassian adds. "All of them. Every kind."
"I don't need every kind..."
"We're buying every kind," Jett interrupts. "This is happening."
I laugh, slightly hysterical, and bury my face in Jett's chest. His heartbeat is racing under my ear, fast and strong. "You guys are insane."
"You love us anyway," Pine murmurs.
"Unfortunately." But I'm smiling, can't stop smiling even though I'm crying and terrified and so overwhelmed I might actually combust. "I really do."
Two hours and seven positive pregnancy tests later, I'm standing in the kitchen watching my three alphas argue about breakfast.
"She needs protein," Cassian insists, cracking eggs into a bowl with more force than necessary. He's wearing his firefighter academy t-shirt and gray sweatpants, hair still messy from bed, and he looks unfairly good for someone who's been awake for less than three hours.
"She needs iron," Pine counters, pulling out the spinach from the fridge.
He's in black jeans and one of his soft flannel shirts, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing off the tattoos that wind up his forearms. The morning light catches on the silver hoops in his ears. "Leafy greens are essential."
"She needs carbs for energy," Jett argues, already pulling out the waffle maker. He's shirtless, because of course he is, wearing only basketball shorts that hang low on his hips. "And probably chocolate. Pregnant women like chocolate, right?"
"Pregnant women like not being talked about in the third person while they're standing right here," I say, but I'm smiling.
I'm wearing one of Cassian's old flannel shirts over leggings, the sleeves rolled up, and my hair is piled on top of my head in a disaster of a bun.
Comfort over style, which is basically my life motto at this point.
All three of them turn to look at me like they forgot I was here, which is ridiculous considering I'm the reason they're having this entire argument.
"What do you want for breakfast, sweetheart?" Pine asks.
"Honestly? Toast. Just... plain toast."
They stare at me like I've suggested eating gravel.
"Toast," Cassian repeats slowly.
"Plain toast," Jett says, like he's confirming I've lost my mind.
"Yes. Because everything else sounds disgusting right now and if you make me eat eggs I will throw up on someone." I point at them each in turn. "Probably you, since you're the one insisting on eggs."
Cassian immediately dumps the eggs down the sink. "Toast. Right. We can do toast."
"I can handle toast," Pine says, moving toward the toaster.
"Everyone calm down, I've got the toast situation under control," Jett announces, shouldering Pine out of the way.
I watch them nearly trip over each other trying to make toast and decide that this is both adorable and completely ridiculous. "You know what? I'll make the toast."
"No!" They say it in unison, which would be creepy if it wasn't so funny.
"You're pregnant," Pine says, like this explains everything.
"Which means I can't operate a toaster?"
"You need to rest," Cassian insists.
"It's toast, not a marathon."
Jett points at the kitchen table. "Sit. Let us take care of you."
I want to argue, but the truth is I'm exhausted. Bone-deep tired in a way I haven't been since those first awful weeks after I arrived in Pine Hollow, running from my old life. So I sit, letting them fuss, watching them move around each other in the kitchen they've learned to share.
It hits me sometimes, how far we've all come.
Six months ago, I was planning my ex's fraudulent wedding and having panic attacks in bathroom stalls.
Now I'm sitting at a kitchen table in a cabin I helped choose, wearing my mate's clothes, watching my three alphas argue about the correct toast darkness setting.
Thank you, universe, for the most ridiculous redemption arc of all time.