23. Jonas
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jonas
Lachlan has Finn. It’s not even a question.
Finn always gravitates toward him when he needs grounding, and Lachlan gives it without making it a thing.
I watch them for a second, then look at Kaia.
She's standing just off to the side, brushing sand off her legs, her attention drifting to them.
I push off the sand to stand up and walk over. "Sunscreen time," I say.
She blinks up at me. "That sounds serious."
"Oh, it is, beautiful. I'm very committed to not letting you burn on your first official beach day." She lets out a soft chuckle and follows me a few steps away from the others. I grab the bottle from my bag. "Warning," I say. "It's the spray kind. I'm not getting artistic with it."
"Tragic. I was hoping for a full design."
I grin at her. "Next time, gorgeous." I step a little closer. "Arms up, please."
She does what I say, and I spray along her shoulders with careful, even passes.
"Turn," I say, and she does so without hesitation. Back, legs, tops of her feet. I don't rush, just take care of her. "All set," I say, stepping back.
She turns, reaching for the bottle. "Your turn." My turn? I think I'm in love. I hand the sunblock over and lift my arms above my head.
She says, "Don't move."
"No promises, beautiful."
She sprays, a little too much and a little uneven, but I don't say anything. She looks so happy and light. She's smiling, and that matters more than precision. Her gaze drops briefly to my shoulder, then to my arm, to the ink there. "Is your tattoo…for your pack?" she asks.
I glance down at the inky lines, then back at her. "Yeah," I say. "Part of it."
She steps a little closer, and I don't move, just let her come to me.
"It's not…literal," I explain, searching for the right words.
"More symbolic. Conceptual, I guess." I turn my arm slightly so she can see it better, angling it to catch the light.
The ink stands out darker against my skin with direct sunlight pouring onto it.
"A compass here," I say, nodding toward the center, where the design anchors itself.
"That's me. Orientation. Keeping things steady as the Beta.
I'm not inclined by any instincts." I pause, letting that sink in.
"I'm the fixed point, the one that holds. "
Her fingers hover just above my skin, not touching, just following the lines like she's reading something written in a language that only she can learn. There's something careful about the way she traces the air above the ink.
"These lines," I continue, tracing them lightly with my own finger to show her the path. "They branch out from the center. Each one's a different direction, different pull. A different force acting on me."
She tilts her head slightly, her hair falling forward. "And that's them?" she asks quietly.
"Yeah." I tap one line, the straightest of them all.
"Lachlan. Straight line. He's constant—doesn't deviate, doesn't waver.
What you see is what you get with him." I tap another, this one angular and precise.
"Adrian. He's structured. All angles. Control.
Everything has to have order, has to make logical sense.
" Then I tap the third, the one that curves erratically, loops back in on itself in ways that seem almost chaotic.
"Finn. This one doesn't make sense on purpose.
It's not supposed to. That's just who he is. "
This makes Kaia laugh, a soft sound that feels warmer than it should.
The sound catches me off guard—genuine and unguarded, her whole body relaxing into it.
Her shoulders drop further, tension melting away like it was never there at all.
It's such a stark contrast to the rigid, controlled woman who walked into the café a week ago, the one who flinched at unexpected movements and measured every word like it might be used against her.
This laugh is different. This laugh is hers—soft and real and completely unafraid.
My body responds without thinking—my own shoulders ease, my breathing steadies, something in my chest that's been wound tight since the moment I recognized her scent finally loosens.
She's let her guard down. Completely. With me.
I smile despite myself, then tap the faintest line, the one most people wouldn't notice unless they were looking closely.
It curves back inward toward the compass.
"And this is the bond itself. Not one direction.
Not pulling me away. Everything looping back.
We're connected, but I'm still centered. "
She's quiet for a second, taking it in. Then I ask, "Do you have any tattoos?"
She shakes her head. "No," she says. "It was…looked down on." A beat passes. "But I've always wanted one."
I nod. "Well," I say, "whenever you're ready, let me know and I'll go with you."
Her eyes lift to mine. "Really?"
"Yeah. My brother's a tattoo artist. I would trust him to take care of you."
She hesitates, her expression shifting slightly. "Is it…allowed?" She glances away, then back at me. "I didn't see any on Finn, and I just thought…In most packs I've known, omegas don't really get to choose things like that. About their bodies, I mean." Her voice is quiet, uncertain.
Now it’s my turn to let out a small laugh. "Finn doesn't have any because he can't sit still long enough."
That draws another laugh from her.
"But yeah," I add, more serious now. "Of course it's okay." Her brows pull together slightly, and I add, "You don't need our permission for anything."
The words land, and her entire body goes still.
Not tense—still, like she's stopped breathing, stopped moving, stopped existing in any way except to process what I've just said.
Her eyes widen fractionally, and I watch as they glisten, moisture gathering at the corners.
Her jaw tightens, then releases. Tightens again.
Her shoulders, which had been relaxed moments ago, draw up slightly—not in tension, but in something that looks like she's bracing herself against the weight of those words.
"All we ask is that you're safe," I continue, watching her process this. "If you want a tattoo, you go to someone you trust. If you want to walk alone, that's fine, but let us give you a phone." I shrug slightly. "Stuff like that."
She nods slowly, processing. "Okay," she says, and I smile. "Good."
We walk back toward the water together. Finn and Lachlan are already moving amongst the waves again, and I see Adrian standing just at the edge like he's debating joining or supervising. He puts too much pressure on himself. I cup my hands around my mouth and shout, "Join us, old man!"
Adrian shoots me a look but moves closer.
Kaia drifts near me again, her shoulder brushing mine lightly. "Is he much older than you guys?" she asks.
I shake my head. "No," I say. "Lachlan's the oldest. Thirty-one." I point to myself. "Then me, thirty." A pause. "Then Adrian, he's twenty-eight."
She blinks. "Really?"
"Yeah, and Finn's a baby at twenty-four."
"Hey!" Finn yells from across the water.
I ignore him, then glance at her. "Am I allowed to ask," I say, "or am I getting smacked?"
She smiles. "How old do you think I am?"
I hold up a hand immediately. "Oh, hell no."
Finn pops up beside us. "I think you're twenty-five."
Kaia looks at Lachlan, who answers, "No way. Not answering."
I mutter, "Smart."
She turns to Adrian. "Adrian?"
He smiles. "Nope. I'm out."
She laughs, then says, "Finn got it right. I'm twenty-five."
Finn preens. "Of course I did."
We swim for a while longer, laughing and moving. Eventually, Finn groans dramatically. "I'm hungry."
I say, "Shocking."
He splashes me with water, and I try to chase after him, but Kaia adds quietly, "Me too."
I glance at her and notice her energy has dipped just slightly. I say, "Let's dry off." There's no argument.
We pack up quickly and head back to the house. Kaia walks a little closer to us now. She's not trailing or keeping distance. She's just with us. I open the door, step inside, and glance between her and Finn. "Okay, Omegas. Go turn on a movie. We got lunch."
Finn salutes. "Yes, sir."
I ignore him. "Kaia," I add, "what do you like on your sandwiches?"
She blinks. "Just ham and mustard?"
I nod. "Yes, ma'am." It's simple and easy. And for the first time, she doesn't look like she's asking permission to want something. She just asks for it.