35. ETHAN

Chapter thirty-five

ETHAN

Reid’s home. He’s really home.

I don’t think I’ve stopped smiling since Reid climbed into the car from the Wilhelm’s house. It’s been days now—three? Four? I don’t even care because every second has felt like some kind of dream I never want to wake up from. My Beta, our Beta, is here where he belongs, and for the first time, everything feels... solid. Real.

That first night was fantastic as we fell together, Zana bonding him with the three of us. It was a lazy day as I fed my mates, watching them smile up at me and tell me how perfect I was. The following day was overwhelming. Reid barely spoke, just let me curl around him in the nest, my fingers mapping every bruise, every scar. Zana stayed close, watching us like a hawk, but even she couldn’t hide the relief in her eyes when Reid finally fell asleep with his head on my chest. I stayed awake, too full of energy to settle, tracing patterns on his skin and whispering little promises he probably didn’t even hear.

Now? Things are starting to settle into something like a routine. Reid’s figuring us out and we’re figuring him out. He’s a little awkward about it—like he doesn’t know where he fits yet—but we’re showing him, step by step, that he’s ours now. Ours to keep. Ours to love.

He’s also started calling me Tahn more often and I fucking love when it says it in a whine or when he’s yelling it because I’m just a little too much. Hell, I just like when he says my name in general.

I glance over at the couch, where Reid is sitting, his long legs stretched out and his hands methodically folding one of the blankets I threw over the arm earlier. He’s got this way of tidying up that looks almost meditative like he’s trying to scrub the chaos out of his own mind by putting everything else in its place. It makes my heart ache a little, watching him find comfort in cleaning like he’s still trying to earn his keep even though he doesn’t have to. Not here. Not with us.

I don’t let him go too long before gesturing for him to join me in my makeshift nest on the floor. “Reid,” I call, grinning as I set my laptop aside. “That blanket’s fine where it is. Come here.”

He looks up, his brows furrowed slightly like he’s not sure if I’m serious. “It’s crooked,” he says, holding up the offending fabric like it’s personally insulted him.

I laugh, shaking my head. “You’re crooked. Now get over here.”

He rolls his eyes but tosses the blanket onto the couch before crossing the room. When he sits, I waste no time crawling into his lap, before grabbing my laptop and settling in.

“You’re ridiculous, Tahn,” he mutters, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, his hands finding my waist like they belong there.

“Ridiculously adorable ,” I counter, sticking my tongue out as I pull up the latest project I’m working on. “You’re just jealous.”

Reid huffs, the sound somewhere between exasperation and amusement. “Jealous of what? You’re literally sitting on me.”

“And yet, I still feel like I’m the one doing all the work here,” I tease, wiggling my hips slightly just to hear the way his breath hitches. It’s a cheap shot, but I can’t help myself.

“Tahn.” His voice dips, low and growly, sending a shiver down my spine. “Calm down before I remind you who’s in charge.”

“Promises, promises,” I sing, but I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face as he leans in, his lips brushing against my ear.

“Don’t test me,” he murmurs, his hands tightening on my hips. And then the laptop is discarded, my back against the pillows as he kisses me, his mouth claiming mine in a way that leaves me breathless. By the time he pulls back, I’m practically melting against him, squirming for more.

“See?” I pant, grinning like an idiot. “You’re jealous.”

“Brat,” he mutters, but the way he’s looking at me makes me feel like the luckiest Omega in the world.

It’s not always this easy. Sometimes he still pulls back, retreating into his own head when he thinks no one’s watching. I can see the shadows that linger, the weight of everything he’s been through. But those moments are getting fewer and farther between. And every time he lets me pull him back into the light, it feels like a victory.

I’m making it my mission to care for Reid in a way Hailey never did. To put him first in all things. Every time he even looks like he might need something, I’m already there, anticipating it. The way his eyes soften when he realizes I’m doing it just for him makes my chest ache in the best way.

He’s not used to being cared for, but he’s learning. And the way he so expertly handles me, even when I’m being my most obnoxious, makes me feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. I love it when he gets all growly, telling me to calm down before kissing the life out of me. And yeah, sometimes I push his buttons just to see that side of him come out. Like the other day, when I refused to stop teasing him until he pinned me to the couch and—

Well. Let’s just say Zana had to remind us to be quiet while she was on a call.

It’s not perfect. There are still things we’re figuring out, still pieces that need to fall into place. But it’s ours. This life we’re building together, this messy, beautiful, chaotic life—it’s everything I’ve ever wanted. Everything I never thought I could have.

I glance up at Reid, who’s watching me with a soft, almost shy smile, and my heart feels like it’s going to burst. I lean in, pressing a kiss to his lips, and whisper, “I love you.”

Reid isn’t ready to say those words and I won’t force him. I know he loves me and Zana but it’ll take him just a bit longer to tell us that. And I don’t need to hear it. I know.

An hour later, I have Reid stuffed into my bedroom nest as I sit on his lap, scrolling through the newest website I crafted. Zana came home a few minutes ago if the rustling of papers and frustrated sigh is anything to go by. She’s been spreading her case files across the living room at times, both of us working until five or six before packing everything up to spend time with the three of us.

Reid huffs, the little puff of air tickling my ear. However, that’s like the fiftieth time in the last hour and it’s starting to grate on my nerves. I try to focus on the screen in front of me, fingers tapping away on my laptop as I put the finishing touches on a client’s website. But it’s impossible to concentrate with Reid shifting under me every five seconds, his legs jostling mine where I’m perched in his lap.

I pause, my fingers hovering over the keyboard as I twist around to look at him. He’s leaning back against the pillows, arms crossed over his chest, his jaw pulled tight. His hazel eyes are unfocused, staring at the far corner of the room.

“Alright,” I say, closing the laptop with a soft click and setting it aside. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he mutters. He doesn’t even look at me, which is a dead giveaway that he’s lying. Reid doesn’t avoid eye contact unless he’s hiding something.

“Uh-huh,” I muse turning all the way around to observe my Beta. “You’ve been sighing like a Victorian widow for the past hour, but sure, nothing’s wrong.”

He snorts, a small flicker of amusement crossing his face, but it’s gone just as quickly. “I’m fine, Tahn. Drop it.”

Except I can’t. Because I know him now—know the restless energy vibrating through him, the way he clenches and unclenches his hands like he’s trying to grab onto something solid. This isn’t a problem I can fix. This is a Zana problem. And lucky for him, I know exactly where our Alpha is.

I slide off his lap, grabbing his hand before he can protest. “Come on,” I say, tugging him toward the edge of the nest.

“ Ethan —” He starts to argue, but I cut him off with a look.

“Just trust me,” I say, and to my surprise, he does. He lets me pull him to his feet and lead him out of the bedroom, down the hall, and into the living room.

Zana’s sitting on the couch, papers and folders spread out around her in a chaotic circle, her laptop balanced precariously on one knee. She’s in her element, the faint glow from the screen highlighting her sharp features, her dark eyes scanning over a document like she’s memorizing it with a single glance.

“Zana,” I whine, breaking the quiet as I nudge Reid toward the couch. “Reid needs you.”

Her head snaps up, her gaze flicking between us. A slow smile spreads across her face, softening the tension in her shoulders. “Does he now?” she says, setting her laptop aside. “Reid, is that true? Do you need me?”

Reid shifts awkwardly, his hand still in mine. “I didn’t—Ethan—” He glares at me, but there’s no heat behind it, just a flicker of annoyance.

I grin, hopping over to our Alpha to press a quick kiss to Zana’s lips before slipping out of the way. “He does. You’re better at this than me.”

Zana chuckles, patting the empty spot on the couch beside her. “Come here, Reid.”

He hesitates for a moment but eventually moves, sinking into the couch with a low sigh. I watch as Zana turns to him, her full attention on him now. She doesn’t push, doesn’t prod. She just waits, letting the silence stretch between them until Reid finally speaks.

“It’s stupid,” he mutters, his voice low. “I don’t even know why I feel like this.”

“Try me, baby. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

I stay quiet, settling on the other side of her, my head finding its place in her lap. She doesn’t look at me, but her hand slides into my hair as she listens to Reid.