Chapter Twenty-Five
Isabella
I remembered attending classes about pregnancy and motherhood during my teen years. Lots of them. They were all part of the making-me-the-perfect-omega plan my father had laid out for me.
In those classes, they talked about pregnancy like it was the worst thing ever, something you would have to endure to prove that you were worthy of the title of omega.
They presented it as a time when your body hurt all over, you’d be moody as hell, and you’d spend more time in the bathroom puking than anywhere else.
Despite that, it was to be our goal in life to have babies as often as possible.
We were supposed to persevere because our job was to produce those babies, and the less we complained, the better we were at that job. It was toxic as hell and, also, in my case, their description was not at all accurate.
I knew not all omegas had pregnancies like mine.
Some did puke away the first trimester, have sciatic pain, or go from the highest high to the lowest low over a cup of spilled water.
But I’d never felt better in my life. Aside from needing some extra naps during my first trimester, I had tons of energy and felt like I could conquer anything, which was good because there was a lot to be done before the baby came.
Now that my mates had their money back from Mark and I had my money, plus half the money from my father’s estate, I wasn’t playing around with getting the house the way I wanted it to be. My mates did the work, but I spared no expense on the supplies.
I had them add another bathroom with a huge tub we could all fit in.
As much as I loved being pampered while I took a bath, it was much better being pampered when we were all in there.
I bought my dream oven and spent many weekends with Millie and her friends at the flea market finding treasures for the kitchen, including the world’s best potato masher.
Everything was coming together beautifully.
There were no massive overhauls needed aside from my huge tub.
I didn’t want to live in a mansion or someplace fancy.
I wanted to live in our home, safe and warm, and in a space that looked like people lived there and not some expensive hotel.
I also wanted it to be easy to clean and organize, and now we had finally reached that step.
The only thing left was the nursery. It was cleaned out, new flooring put in, and the walls freshly painted. A blank canvas.
Problem was, I didn’t know what to do with that canvas.
A few half-formed ideas flitted in my head, but ideas a plan did not make, and there wasn’t a lot of time.
I had maybe four weeks left before our little one came.
I was the size of a house, an adorable house, if my mates were to be believed, but a house nonetheless.
“You’re in here again.” York came in with a cup of tea and held it out for me.
“Yeah, I am.” I took it, inhaling the honey goodness.
“Any closer to knowing what to do?”
“You can’t laugh at me.” One idea stood out above the others.
“Why would I laugh at you?”
“Because my idea is silly.”
“I bet it’s cute.”
“It’s only half-formed, so no laughing.”
He once again swore he wouldn’t laugh at any idea I had.
“When I first came here,” I began, “I had just learned about shifters. For a tiny sliver of time, I thought maybe we were in the land of fae. It was too quiet, too perfect, you see. Where else could I be?” I took a sip of my tea.
“What if we turned this room into the land of fae? Not for real,” I added quickly, not wanting to find out if it was real or not and if we could portal or whatever it is the fae do.
I’d read a lot of fae books in my time, and the lore was all different, but one thing wasn’t—you didn’t mess with them.
“Murals and maybe a little mushroom footstool, and stuffies…that kind of thing.”
“I think that’s a brilliant idea.” He took his phone out and tapped away as I took another long sip. Before I finished my tea, all three of my mates were there, telling me it was time for a road trip.
“A road trip? Like, we’re going to town?” Did they not see I was ready to pop?
“Yep.” Cash took my mug from me. “Pack an overnight bag.”
I learned a long time ago not to question them when they had fanciful ideas like this. They always led to a good time, and today was no exception.
We drove a few hours away to a small town famous for one roadside attraction: someone had turned their backyard into a gnome village and rented them out to people for overnights or weddings, etc.
They had built little cabins shaped like mushrooms, wind chimes set in just the right spots where guests couldn’t be quite sure if it was the wind or the fae, and little concrete trolls amidst the cabins.
They even built a fairy ring with a fire pit in the middle for those who dared. It was absolutely adorable.
We went inside our rental to drop our things off and away we went. The cabin was part one of our adventure; part two was heading into their downtown, where all of the shops embraced the theme of the little gnome village. There, we were going to get everything we needed for the nursery…we hoped.
Apparently, the eclectic person who built the gnome village had inadvertently managed to save the town by bringing in tourists. We were able to get everything we needed for the nursery and more on our shopping trip. All of it was being shipped directly to us.
Afterward, we ate at a restaurant that had two menus: one for humans, one for fae. But we were not allowed to order from the fae one because we weren’t fae. Little did they know, three of us weren’t human, either.
Based on the menu, if you ate fae food, you’d become addicted to it and have to face their mercy to get more and more.
Not that I’d been tempted by any of the offerings despite the adorable names they gave the dishes.
Not a single one of the concoctions they had on that side sounded good, which was probably the point.
Putting something there no one would order in the first place made it easy to keep up the lore.
I had the best day, on what was probably our last overnight before the baby came.
“Thank you,” I said as six arms wrapped around me in a group hug. I was surprised they could still reach, despite my belly putting a lot of distance between me and the person in front of me, but we managed.
“No, thank you, omega ours, for coming into our lives.” Cash kissed the top of my head. “And making our pack a family.”