Chapter thirty-two
Lily
It’s been two days since my head last tried to destroy itself from the inside out.
Two whole days. The pressure behind my eyes is gone.
So is the nausea that usually lurks in the background.
I’m not waking up at three in the morning anymore wondering if the pain’s going to split me open.
It feels weird, honestly, having a body that works the way it’s supposed to.
Like I’m not just dragging around a broken machine, but actually living in myself again.
I ate breakfast and didn’t feel sick. Stood up and the room stayed put.
Took a deep breath and it didn’t cost me anything.
I know better than to get used to it. Miles is in a good mood right now, but that never lasts very long.
I’ve lived with him long enough to know the rules: weather changes fast. One bad day, one stray comment, one little spark of the fear he wears like a second skin, and everything slams shut.
The nest, the nipping, the quiet sharing at night—all gone.
And just that quick, the headaches come back; the nausea, too, and the slow gray drift that eats away at whatever I’d managed to rebuild.
But today? I feel good. And I’m going to keep that as long as I can.
I’m in my room, tablet in my lap, propped against the headboard.
Garrett loaned it to me. I’m reading a novel about a detective who keeps making the worst possible choices, which honestly hits a little too close to home.
The house is dead quiet. Garrett and Cyrus left for work already but Gabriel is still home for some reason.
Miles is somewhere around here, probably sketching or brooding in the kitchen with a mug of coffee he’ll never finish drinking.
Someone knocks on my door.
“Come in.”
Gabriel opens it and steps inside, and the look he gives me makes my lungs stop working for a second.
It’s the “decision” look. The one where he’s made up his mind and he’s coming to tell me, whether I’m ready or not. I set the tablet aside. Sit up straighter, hugging my knees in without even thinking about it. Old habits.
He sits on the edge of the bed, not touching me, but close enough that his scent finds me anyway. I know I’m not supposed to have it, but my omega leans toward it before I can stop her, so I breathe in slow and try to stay still.
“Jeremy called me,” Gabriel says. “He wanted to know if you’re ready.”
I don’t answer. I already know what’s coming. I’ve been waiting for it, pretending if I didn’t look at it, maybe it’d wait for me too.
He pauses, like he doesn’t want to keep going. But then he does. “The month is up, Lily. You have to decide.”
I pick at the blanket. “I was hoping to try at least one more pack,” I say. “Before I picked.”
Gabriel’s face sort of twists. He’s trying to be gentle about it and I see the effort. “I tried. I reached out to every pack I could find that’s actively looking for an omega. The ones who were interested at first… changed their minds.”
They don’t want me. They read my file and saw the suppressant damage, the withdrawal mess, the little question mark next to my fertility, and decided I wasn’t worth the risk. Gabriel’s trying to say it without saying it. I appreciate that, but it doesn’t actually soften the blow.
“So it’s the Carrs or nothing,” I say.
He nods. “The Carrs are a great option. Jeremy’s a good man.
His father’s one of the most respected names in the city, with a long history of advocacy for omega welfare.
Jeremy’s the same. He’ll take care of you.
” Gabriel hesitates, swallows hard as if it hurts.
“And when they mark you, the scent match will dissolve. The pull will be gone. You won’t feel it anymore.
There will be nothing bringing you back here. ”
I nod too, even though I’m trying not to cry. If I start now, I won’t be able to stop, and I don’t want Gabriel to have to see that again. Not after everything.
This is what I wanted, right? To be picked. To be chosen. The Carrs like me. They might not be my scent matches, but they’re good men. Jeremy held my hand and didn’t let go. Leo made me s’mores. Theo kissed my head. Michael smiled at me like I was someone special.
I’ll belong. For the first time, I’ll actually belong to someone who wants me.
“I’ll call Jeremy this afternoon,” Gabriel says. “He can come pick you up later today.”
The room shrinks around me.
Today. I’m out of time just when things were starting to change. Today I leave. I’ll never see Miles again, feel his teeth against my neck. I’ll never smell cedar and smoke or watch Cyrus’s eyes watching mine or feel Garrett’s purr pouring through my nervous system.
Gabriel squeezes my arm: quick, so fast it barely counts as a touch, but it sends a shock through me.
His scent floods everything, and my omega nearly claws her way out, desperate for more.
I want to lean into him and not let go. But Miles isn’t here to direct it, and I know how this works. So I let Gabriel’s hand fall away.
He stands. Pauses in the doorway. Looks back at me, and his face is so full I feel like I might shatter from it.
Then he’s gone.
The tears come as soon as the door closes.
I wipe them away, mad at myself for having them in the first place.
The Carrs want me. My scent matches don’t.
Or they do, but not as much as they need Miles, and I get that.
Miles was here first. He’s been through more than I can imagine, and he deserves to be happy.
I’m not going to ruin that. If he can’t share me or them, that’s fine. I always knew it would end like this.
I go to the closet, pull out the suitcase and open it.
It’s empty. I unpacked everything after Miles opened up and started sharing himself with me. I hung up every piece, put everything in drawers. Like I was staying. Like I actually had a home here.
Stupid. I was never permanent. Should’ve left everything packed, ready to go. That was always going to be my ending.
I start packing. Shirt by shirt. Leggings, jeans. The green sweater from the bonfire goes in last, because it still smells like Jeremy’s truck. I keep it on top, hoping Jeremy’s scent will drown out the Santos pack clinging to the rest of my clothes. It’ll be my scent soon. If I let them mark me.
When I let them mark me. There’s no “if” left.
I’m almost done when Miles shows up in the doorway.
He leans there, arms crossed, watching me fold a pair of socks. His face is locked down, no tells, just that blank, unreadable mask he uses when he’s feeling things he doesn’t want to feel.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Packing.”
“For what?”
“Jeremy’s coming to get me today. Gabriel told me this morning.”
Something flashes across his face. I can’t tell what it is. Surprise maybe. Like he didn’t know, or he knew but didn’t think it would actually happen.
“Today?” he says.
“The month’s up. Gabriel couldn’t find any other packs. So it’s the Carrs.”
“You’ve only met two packs.”
“The Carrs are better than the Whitfields. So I’m picking them.”
Miles stares at me. Wheels turning. He opens his mouth, shuts it. Tries again.
“Come with me,” he says.
I hesitate. “Miles, I need to finish this—“
“Come with me.”
He doesn’t say it as a command, it almost sounds like a plea. So I put the shirt down and follow him.
He takes me to the pack room and opens the door. The nest is there, waiting. The place I keep finding myself in more and more.
“Get in,” he says.
I climb in. He follows.
But this time is different.
He doesn’t bite or command or pin me down, yank my hair or tell me to shut up. He lies next to me, face to face, looking at me like he did in the shower—that absorbing look, like he’s trying to store everything away before it’s gone.
He kisses me. Slow. So slow it’s as if he’s scared to break something. His hand comes up to my face, thumb gentle on my cheekbone, and the tenderness of it nearly undoes me.
He undresses me, piece by piece. Lifts my shirt over my head, careful. Slides my leggings down, gentle. My underwear, off with hands that shake just a little. He strips himself the same way. Hoodie, shirt, jeans. Then skin on skin, tangled in the nest, everyone’s scent pressing in around us.
He enters me slow. Face to face, forehead to mine, eyes open. I see all of it. The fear, the longing, the ache of already missing me.
This isn’t fucking. This is something else. Something that feels like goodbye, said with bodies because words aren’t enough.
He moves in me and I hold on, arms around his neck, not letting go. He kisses me while he’s inside me, like he wishes it could be enough to keep me here.
I come first, his name on my lips. He keeps moving, slow, changing angles, watching my face, and I come again, and again. Three times before he lets himself finish, burying his face in my neck, shaking all over.
After, we lie there. He doesn’t pull out. Doesn’t move. He tucks my head against his chest, strokes my back, fingers drifting through my hair. I listen to his heart, fast at first, then steady.
We don’t talk. We don’t need to.
Maybe this changes something. Maybe he doesn’t really want me to go.
We stay there all day, barely moving except to pull each other closer.
Around five, the front door opens. Boots in the entryway. Alpha scents rolling down the hall.
Gabriel comes to the door of the pack room. He stops when he sees us, still tangled, still in the nest, the air in here thick with everything we did and everything we can’t say.
He looks at us like he’s trying to hold onto the picture of us… but he knows it’s almost over.
“Lily,” he says, careful. “Jeremy will be here in about an hour. You should get ready.”
I look at Miles. His arm is still around me, face buried in my hair. He doesn’t move.
I pull away. It’s harder than anything else I’ve done here. Harder than walking outside in February with no coat and a broken heart. My body fights it. My omega howls.
But I do it. I get dressed. Brush my hair. Put on mascara so I’ll look like a person and not a girl who wanted to cry all day in another omega’s nest.
I grab my suitcase and take it to the entryway.
They’re all there. Gabriel by the door, hands at his sides, face composed. Garrett in the hall, eyes red, not hiding it. Cyrus leaning on the wall, hands jammed in his pockets. Miles is on the couch, staring at the coffee table like he’s trying to set it on fire.
I set the suitcase down.
“Thank you,” I say. “All of you. For letting me stay. I know I was a mess, and I’m sorry about that. But I’m grateful. Really.” I look at each one of them. I want to memorize how they made me feel before our match dissolves and I can’t feel it anymore.
“I’ll never forget you,” I say.
Then I go to Miles.
He’s still staring at the table, body stiff. I kneel in front of him, like Gabriel did for me at Jasper’s apartment. I need him to see me. I need him to know I mean it.
“Thank you,” I say. “For giving me a month. For letting me stay even when you didn’t want me here. You are kinder than you think, and I’m glad I met you.”
He doesn’t answer. He won’t even look at me.
I hug him anyway. Wrap my arms around him, press my face into his neck, breathe him in. Burnt sugar and iron gone bitter. The scent I’ll forget as soon as Jeremy marks me. Hopefully.
He doesn’t hug back. I let go and pull back before giving Miles one last glance. His eyes flick to mine, his breathing picking up but he remains silent. I grab my suitcase.
“I’ll wait for Jeremy outside,” I say.
“Fuck this.”
Miles is on his feet, face red, eyes blazing. He looks desperate. Like he’s finally had enough of watching things he needs walk away.
“Give her more time,” he says to Gabriel.
Nobody says anything. Even Garrett stops breathing.
“She’s only met two packs. That’s not enough. You only get one shot at this, and she deserves more options than just the first pack that’ll take her besides the fucking Whitfields.”
Gabriel watches him. “Miles—“
“Jeremy’s a prude. He’s nice, sure, but he’s not what she needs. She needs an alpha with some guts. Someone who actually makes her feel safe and protected and—“
“Someone like you?” Cyrus asks, quiet.
I look at Cyrus, see that knowing in his eyes.
Miles glares at him, then looks back to Gabriel. “This isn’t enough time... she hasn’t—“
“Are you sure?” Gabriel asks.
Miles nods. There’s no hesitation.
Gabriel looks at me. “What do you want, Lily? Would you like to stay?”
I hesitate, not sure if this is real. Then I nod and bite my lip to stop the smile from forming. “Yes. Jeremy is good, but I’m not—I don’t want to go. I want to stay. I need to see what…”
I almost say I want to see what this is. What Miles and I are turning into. What could happen if we just had a little more time.
“I’d prefer to stay,” I say instead. “For now.”
Gabriel nods. “I’ll call Jeremy. Tell him not tonight.”
Miles doesn’t waste a second. He grabs my suitcase, takes it back upstairs dragging me behind him by my hand. He opens the case and the hangers clatter as he shoves my clothes back in the closet. Rough and a little angry, like he’s punishing himself for almost letting me go.
He finishes. Drops the empty suitcase on the floor and faces me.
“Get in bed,” he says.
I do.
He climbs in behind me, pulls me against his chest, arm tight around my waist, nose buried in my neck. He nips and the shiver that goes through me is all relief.
He doesn’t say anything else.
He doesn’t have to.
I don’t need the words.