23. REID

Chapter twenty-three

REID

I wake up warm—too warm—and for a second, I think I’m back in the Wilhelms’ house. My chest tightens, and my throat closes up as the ghost of Hailey’s heat scent claws its way into my head. But then I blink, my heart slowing as the soft hum of voices replaces the screaming silence I’m used to waking up to.

I’m not there. I’m here. In Zana’s house.

Her scent is the first thing I latch onto; strong, but not suffocating. It wraps around me, softening the jagged edges of my panic and the tension in my chest loosens just enough for me to breathe. My head rests against her chest, her arms a solid weight around me, like a promise that no one’s going to hurt me here.

“Morning, sleepyhead!” Ethan’s voice cuts through the fog and I blink up at him, my vision still blurry. He’s sitting on the other side of the couch, vibrating with energy again. His grin is so wide it looks like it’s about to split his face in half.

I grunt, my throat too dry to form words, Ethan’s grin only getting wider. He leans forward, his curls bouncing, as he does. “Breakfast is ready! But—” He pauses dramatically, his eyes sparkling. “Because I didn’t know what you liked, I made a little bit of everything.”

“A little bit?” Zana’s voice rumbles through her chest, sleepy but laced with amusement. I glance up at her and she’s cracking one eye open, her lips twitching into a small smile. Her arm tightens around my waist, like she’s not ready to let me go just yet.

Ethan ignores her, launching into a rapid-fire explanation like he’s been waiting all morning to tell someone. “Okay, so, I went to the store, but they didn’t have any bacon—who even runs out of bacon?—so I had to go to the other store across town, and they were out of the orange juice Zana likes, but I found these fancy little croissants in the bakery section, and—”

Zana sighs, sitting up just enough to hook an arm around Ethan’s shoulders and pull him onto the floor against her other side. He squawks, trying to keep talking, but she clamps her hand over his mouth, cutting him off mid-sentence.

“Baby,” she chuckles, her voice full of sleepy affection, “I love you, but it’s too early for this.”

Ethan’s still mumbling behind her hand, his eyes wide and full of mock outrage. Zana laughs, the vibration rumbling against my side. She playfully growls at him, the sound more teasing than threatening and Ethan’s protests turn into muffled giggles.

“You shouldn’t have gone outside during your pre-heat,” she says, narrowing her eyes at him. “What did I tell you about that?”

Ethan waves her off with a dramatic flourish, trying to squirm out of her grip. “I’m fine, I’m fine!” he insists, his voice muffled but still somehow loud enough to fill the room. “I had to get the good stuff for Reid!”

They’re wrestling now, Ethan twisting and turning in Zana’s arms while she keeps him pinned with ease. She’s laughing, her teeth flashing in a way that makes her look almost feral, but there’s so much warmth in her eyes that it’s impossible to take her seriously. Ethan finally breaks free, flopping against the other end of the couch with a triumphant huff, his curls a wild mess.

I watch them, my chest tightening in a way that has nothing to do with pain. They’re ridiculous. Loud and messy and unapologetically themselves. And then there's a flicker of something I don’t quite recognize. It’s not envy. It’s not even longing. It’s something deeper, something quieter, like the faintest hum of a melody I’ve forgotten.

This. This is what I’ve wanted. Not the picture-perfect, polished version of a family I used to dream about, but this chaos. This warmth. This love that spills out in every laugh, every playful shove, every half-muttered complaint that’s really just code for I love you .

Ethan catches me staring and grins again, his cheeks flushed from exertion. “Reid!” he says, scooting closer until he’s almost in my lap. “Do you like pancakes? Because I got, like, three different kinds—chocolate chip, blueberry, and plain—just in case.”

I blink at him, caught off guard by the sheer intensity of his enthusiasm. “Uh... yeah,” I manage, my voice rough. “Pancakes are good.”

The chaos continues as Ethan bolts for the kitchen, his bare feet skidding on the hardwood floor, Zana letting out a huff of amusement. I half expect her to go after him again, but instead, she just leans back against the couch, her hand resting on my arm like she’s keeping me tethered to reality.

“He’s a menace,” Zana mutters, but there’s no heat in her words. She’s grinning, the kind of smile that softens her usually sharp edges. “Bet you anything he’s about to bring back half a grocery store.”

Sure enough, it starts. Ethan reappears a minute later, a plate in each hand, stacked high with scrambled eggs and what looks like every piece of bacon that ever existed. He sets them down on the coffee table, his curls bouncing as he straightens up, only to dart back into the kitchen.

“You weren’t kidding,” I muse, leaning back into the cushions. This is a far cry from Hailey. Ethan’s enthusiasm is contagious and even more so, the delight he has in being around me is a welcome change. “Does he always go this hard?”

Zana chuckles, shaking her head. “Always. It’s even worse during pre-heat—unstoppable. Best to just let him tire himself out.”

Ethan returns with more plates—pancakes, toast, and an assortment of pastries that could rival a bakery display. He hums under his breath, oblivious to the way Zana and I are watching him like he’s some kind of phenomenon. Another trip yields a pitcher of juice and a pot of coffee, along with mugs and glasses that clink against the plates as he sets them down.

When the coffee table is finally, impossibly full, he steps back with his hands on his hips, beaming like he’s just solved world hunger. “Ta-da!”

Zana raises an eyebrow, her lips quirking. “Did you make all this?”

Ethan gasps, clutching his chest like she’s insulted his honor. “Absolutely not,” he says, his nose in the air. “I would never subject you to that . You know I’m a disaster in the kitchen.”

I chuckle, the sound bubbling out of me before I can stop it. “You mean to tell me you didn’t whip all this up from scratch at five in the morning? Shocking .”

He narrows his eyes at me, but his grin betrays him. “You’ll eat it, though,” he says, wagging a finger. “You’ll eat every bite and you’ll love it.”

Zana snorts, pushing herself up to her feet. She grabs her shirt from where it was discarded last night and pulls it on, her muscles flexing in a way that’s almost distracting. Then she turns to me, her expression softening. “Let’s get you fully sitting up, yeah?”

I nod, thankful that either she or I dragged my shorts back up last night. As much as I loved fucking Zana and then locking me several times, sitting around eating breakfast naked is a touch too much, too fast. There’s also the small matter of the pain shooting through my side, telling me that I absolutely should not have moved like that last night.

Zana’s careful as she slips an arm behind my shoulders and lifts me onto the cushions. Pain shoots through my ribs and I can’t help the wince that escapes. Ethan notices immediately, his brows knitting together as he leans forward. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in my nest? It’s warm and cozy, and it’s—”

“No.” The word comes out sharper than I mean it to and Ethan flinches, his eyes widening. I sigh, rubbing a hand over my face. “Sorry. I just... I’m not ready for that.”

Ethan nods quickly, but the disappointment in his eyes is impossible to miss. He sits back on his heels, his hands twisting together in his lap. “I get it,” he mumbles. “I just thought... never mind.”

Zana glances between us, her jaw tightening slightly. “It’s fine, Ethan,” she says gently. “Reid needs time. We’re not rushing anything.”

Time. That’s the thing, isn’t it? Time to adjust, time to believe that this—whatever this is—might be real. But every time I start to let my guard down, every time I think maybe I can trust them, the specter of Jackson and Lyle rears its ugly head. Their voices are etched into my brain, reminders of what happens when I think I’m safe.

“You’re not going back,” Zana says suddenly, her voice cutting through my thoughts like a blade. Her hand tightens on my shoulder, her dark eyes locking with mine. “You hear me, Reid? You’re not going back to them.”

“I didn’t even say anything, Zana.” I want to believe her. God, I want to believe her. But I’ve been a pawn in this game for so long, it’s hard to imagine anything else. Her fierce expression doesn’t let up, though. “You don’t know them like I do,” I say quietly, my throat tightening. “They don’t let go.”

“They don’t get a choice,” Zana replies, her voice steel. “Not anymore.”

Ethan scoots closer, squeezing my hand in his much smaller one, the earnest look in his eyes telling me to trust them—to stop thinking so hard, to let myself enjoy what they’re offering.

The smell of bacon and eggs hits me again, teasing my stomach even though I swear I’m still too sore to eat. Ethan’s sitting on the floor, carefully piling a plate with what looks like a little bit of everything from his buffet spread. He’s humming under his breath, totally in his element and I swear he even gives the bacon a little pat of approval before he stands and moves toward me.

He plops down beside me on the couch, the plate balanced in one hand and a fork in the other. His eyes are bright, full of something I don’t know how to describe. Happiness? Excitement? It’s like he’s glowing, like all of this—the food, the chaos, me sitting here like a broken doll—is exactly what he’s been waiting for.

“Here,” he says, holding up a forkful of eggs. “Open up.”

I blink at him, trying to process what’s happening. “What?”

“Open up,” he repeats, his voice as light as the smile on his face. “You need to eat and I’m going to help.”

I laugh, more out of confusion than anything. “I can feed myself, you know.”

He shakes his head, his curls bouncing. “Nope. This is for me. It’ll bring me joy, Reid. Let me serve my Beta.”

My brain screeches to a halt. Serve his Beta? Did I hear that right? “Wait,” I say, staring at him. “You... want to serve me?”

Ethan tilts his head, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Of course. You’re mine, aren’t you?”

I don’t know what to say, how to process this. I’ve never had anyone put me first. Not like this. Not with such ease, like it’s second nature. Hailey made sure I knew exactly where I stood—beneath her, always beneath her—and yet here’s Ethan, acting like this is the most normal thing in the world.

“Ethan...” My voice is rough, choked. I clear my throat and shake my head, trying to push the lump down. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to,” he insists. Ethan giggles—actually giggles—and pops the fork into my mouth. The eggs are warm, buttery, and somehow exactly what I need. I chew slowly, watching as his face lights up like I’ve just given him a gift instead of the other way around.

“This is ridiculous,” I say once I’ve swallowed, but there’s no heat in my words. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it,” he shoots back, already loading the next bite onto the fork.

I’m about to argue, but the truth is... maybe I do. Maybe, for the first time in years, I feel like someone actually sees me. Like I’m not just a tool, not just a thing to be used and discarded. It’s overwhelming, this attention, this care, but it’s not unwelcome. It’s... nice. Strange, but nice.

Zana joins us a moment later, a plate of her own balanced in one hand. She settles on my other side, the couch dipping slightly under her weight.

“Look at you,” she says, teasing as she reaches over to run her fingers through my hair. “Letting my Omega dote on you like a prince.”

I groan, but it’s half-hearted at best. “Don’t start.”

She laughs, her fingers moving gently, soothingly, through the tangles in my hair. “You’re not fooling anyone, Reid. You’re enjoying this.”

I hate that she’s right. I hate how much I’m enjoying it, how much I’m leaning into this attention, this care. It feels too good, too perfect, like it’s not meant for someone like me. But here they are—Ethan, humming softly as he feeds me another bite, and Zana, her touch steady and grounding, her presence a constant shield against the shadows that still linger in the corners of my mind.