Chapter Twenty-Seven

Eve

It takes a lot of convincing. More for some than others.

I know they're just worried about my wellbeing. I haven't exactly painted a generous image of Lucille in the past, and it's not like her rejection from Pack Deakin has suddenly made her all warm and fuzzy.

I assure them this arrangement will make everyone happier in the long run, including my inner omega. God knows, with a pup on the way, my caregiving instincts are at an all-time high. It just so happens Lucille is in need of care right about now.

Maybe my alphas have the same instincts, as they finally soften, taking pity—though whether it's pity on me or on Lucille, I'm not sure.

At last, Baxter gives me the nod of approval, and I pick up the phone, and I call Lucille, and I—

" Absolutely not ."

My heart drops.

"What?" I ask incredulously. "Why not?"

" I've already been cast out of Deakin, and Carson. What makes you think I want to be cast out of the city, too? "

"Lucille, I …" God, I wish she was sitting in the room with me and not just a tiny image on my screen—maybe that way I could rattle some sense into her. "I just don't know if that's an option anymore."

" It's my only option ."

"We'd take good care of you, and Baxter's agreed to chaperone you, and make sure everything is above board—"

" I said no, Evie. "

I stare at the phone for a few seconds, stunned. All the time I put into talking to my alphas, assuring them we could make this work, begging them to help me save my oldest sister … was it really for nothing?

My eyes fill with tears before I can help it.

Flora recoils, clearly not expecting this response.

"Sorry," I say, and hate myself for saying it just as quickly. "I–it's the hormones."

She hesitates. " I should go. Tell your alphas thanks, but no thanks. "

I genuinely can't tell if her tone is full of contempt or concern before she hangs up the phone, leaving me sniffling into my hands.

***

My alphas have officially banned yoga, which leaves me with exactly two other options for stress relief: breathing exercises, or knots.

Breathing exercises only work if I'm already pretty calm. And as for the knots …

"Not today, princess," Marcus murmurs, stroking my back. "Just lie with me. Try to match my breathing."

I bite the inside of my lip so I don't pout. Nurse Marcus knows best .

He must sense I'm restless, because he eventually, reluctantly, offers to take me grocery shopping. Not exactly a grand adventure, but I'll take what I can get.

It's a brief outing, Marcus power-walking down the quaint little aisles, ticking things off his shopping list. Riley laughs and tells him to slow down, at which point he blinks, and apologizes, but does not laugh back.

Several times I consider saying, What's wrong, alpha ? Talk to me. But even imagining his response is daunting enough to keep me silent.

***

I lie in the nest that night, both hands on my stomach, dreading sleep. But sleep comes, and with it, that god-awful dream.

Blood-stained sundress.

Warped voices. An apology. A curse.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart …"

I jolt awake, my throat clenching, trying to stop myself from being sick in the nest. The room is dark. I fumble around for something to grip onto—a blanket or pillow—when someone laces their fingers between mine.

I look up. Thorn's black eye flicker with concern. His thumb strokes the underside of my wrist. I can't tell if he's checking my pulse or just trying to stop me trembling, but either way, I savor the touch.

Thankfully no-one else has stirred. Baxter's arm hangs limply across my waist.

Even through the dark, I can see the question in Thorn's gaze: What do you need ?

My inner omega sighs. More of this .

His scent washes over me, mild and soothing, like a breath of fresh air. I feel my consciousness drifting upwards, away from my troublesome body, fluttering between imaginary pine trees. I'd make a better bird than an omega , I think idly. Hollow in my bones … wind beneath my wings … weightless.

Thorn squeezes my hand.

More , my omega says again. I want to feel him. Taste him.

A low purr vibrates in Thorn's chest. He runs his free hand through my hair, sending goosebumps down my spine.

I'm so sick of feeling stressed, and so stressed about getting stressed in the first place. It's a vicious cycle—one that makes me feel more and more trapped in this body I'm trying not to despise. We have to work together, this body and I, to bring our pup into the world.

So why is it telling me to fuck my alphas senseless ? It's the middle of the night. I'm meant to be resting.

"Eve …" Thorn chokes.

I sigh, realizing I must be perfuming like crazy. Thorn's arousal floods my senses, making everything tingle and tighten.

"Want you," I whimper.

"I know," he breathes, like the words pain him, but his hands don't stray—not even to massage my aching breasts.

Somehow, ridiculously, my inner omega has never felt more betrayed.

My sobs are muffled in Thorn's chest—not just humiliated by my need, but ashamed of it. The pup needs to sleep. I need to sleep. I'm being … selfish.

Behind me, Baxter's breathing sharpens. His arms find me in the dark, pulling my back into his chest.

Thorn inches closer, sandwiching me between them. "Bax," he whispers, "she's soaked."

"Shh …" Baxter trails his hand down my waist, thumbing the waistband of my underwear. "You'll wake the others."

I bite my lip, only now remembering Red, Marcus, and Riley are still asleep on the edges of the nest. If we disturb them, it'll be a whole thing—do we have sex with our horny omega? Or is it too risky for the pup?

I don't want to talk. I just want to be filled, and finally have some relief.

"Keep her steady," Baxter says under his breath. I only realize I've been squirming when Thorn's strong hands pin me in place.

With more stealth than I knew he was capable of, Baxter peels my underwear down to my knees. The long, hard length of him is somehow already bare, nestled against my core. I try to buck my hips back, but with his hands on my waist and Thorn's on my arms, I'm completely at their mercy.

"Thorn," Baxter says, so quiet I barely hear him.

Something unspoken passes between them. Thorn locks eyes with me once more.

"Big breath," he orders.

Instinctively, I do as I'm told. Shock thrills through me as he puts his hand over my mouth—just tightly enough to keep any more sounds from escaping.

His timing is perfect, with Baxter inserting himself in one fluid thrust. I'd probably cry out if not for that hand muffling my pleasure.

Baxter hisses into my neck. " Fuck . Eve—"

It's all exactly what I need, and all at once. My alpha's hard cock inside my pussy. My clit singing. Blood pumping.

Full. Full. Full.

I'm probably drooling into Thorn's hand, but I can't help myself, sloppy with pleasure. My core clenches on Baxter with weeks' worth of longing.

"Is she still coming?" Thorn whispers, in awe.

Baxter grips my hips harder. "Won't—stop."

Won't stop. Can't stop. Even in this night-dark room, all I can see are bright lights.

A hot, soothing voice blows past my ear. "Shh … shh …"

Poor Thorn—I must really be screaming into his palm. My vision clears long enough to meet his pointed gaze, reminding me I need to take a breath. Cautiously, he pulls back, and I gasp for air, biting my lip before any other noise can escape me.

"That's our girl." He replaces his hand with his lips.

Behind him, Marcus rolls over. We all stiffen, waiting to be called out, but he just murmurs incoherently and rolls over the other way again. Thorn smothers my giggles with another kiss.

Baxter's knot is fully inflated by the time I feel like I might actually fall asleep. I clench around him, testing him, earning a soft pinch on my ass.

But my efforts are not for nought. Right before consciousness falls away, I feel his cock twitch, his breath catching ever-so-slightly in my ear, and a flood of warmth in my insides.

He purrs, wrapping his arms around my stomach.

And I sleep dreamlessly for the first night in weeks.