Chapter Forty-Three

Riley

Marcus's rut probably won't even last forty-eight hours. But during that time …

" Ah! Ah! Alpha !"

I lay face-down in Eve's nest, hearing her sweet sounds from all the way down the hall. Slick pools between my thighs, making me inadvertently grind against the pillow.

"Riley," Thorn rumbles, his own voice hoarse. "Not you, too."

I stop myself. "What?"

He quirks his brow at me. "One rutting alpha is bad enough."

"I'm not going into rut," I huff.

"Could've fooled me," Red grins, jumping into the nest next to me. His smug aura is enough to kill my mood—a blessing, in its own annoying way.

I shift onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. "They should be going to sleep soon. Right?"

Thorn considers. "Probably one more round."

Red snorts. "Keeping track?"

"They're not exactly being discreet."

Finally, Baxter enters, wearing his usual night-time attire of boxers and nothing else. He switches off the light and closes the door behind him before joining us in the nest.

"They'll be done in their own good time," he says, his low, deep voice soothing. "Try not to let it get to you. Thorn's right—the last thing we need is another rut."

I'm not going into rut , my alpha grumbles again. I'm wise enough to silence her.

For the first time in months, the four of us have to fall asleep without our omega, and minus one packmate. Rest doesn't come easy—even with Eve's scent all over the sheets, I miss her like crazy. Marcus, too.

So in a weird way, it's almost a comfort to hear their growls, grunts and cries ringing out from down the hall as they go at each other like animals.

***

"Are you sure you don't want to see your parents?"

I smile, warmed by my omega's sweetness, her generosity. "No thanks, pretty girl. I told them we'd check in after the pup was born. Think it's best if I stick to my word."

"Gotta keep those boundaries," Red approves.

"And keep them on their best behaviour," Thorn notes.

"Oh." Eve beams. "Smart."

We've only been at the city loft for an hour, but already, the mood is brighter than it's been out here in a while. Eve and Marcus are practically joined at the hip. He still can't look at any of us in the eye without blushing, but he'll get over it. Better yet—Eve managed the entire drive with only one sick-stop, which means we arrived in record time.

The only people still on edge are Baxter and Thorn. Given the whole paparazzi situation, I can hardly blame them. It almost feels like this trip away from the den is a test, gauging just how many eyes (and possibly camera lenses) are on us.

"Need all of you on your best behaviour," Baxter announces, glancing about the room. His eyes linger on Red. "Understood?"

I don't even have to look at Red to know he's about to argue, so I answer for all of us—"Understood, boss."

We make it to the appointment with bated breaths and peeled eyes, everyone on the lookout for photographers. Thorn hardly even speaks, which … well, not a huge deviation from character. But I can tell he's on edge.

At least Doctor Perez is a friendly face, and his sealed office makes me feel secure.

"How's my favorite patient today?" he asks Eve. I try not to bristle at his overly familiar tone.

"Good," Eve says excitedly, sitting herself on the exam bed. "Actually, really good."

"Oh?" He waggles his grey, bushy eyebrows, preparing the monitor. "I'll bet I can pick why."

My packmates and I exchange wary looks. Is this really how we're going to start today's appointment—talking about all the knots Eve's gotten since her last visit? I mean, I'm glad she's so open about it, but it does seem a little out of character.

Sure enough, she blushes like she's been caught out. "Uh … you can?" "Sure I can." He waits for Marcus to prop a pillow behind her head, then asks, "May I?"

Eve blinks. "O–oh. Sure." She lifts the hem of her shirt, exposing her growing bump to the fluorescent lights. My heart flutters.

Doctor Perez slaps some gloves on, and then, with a precautionary glance up at Baxter, feels around Eve's stomach. She squirms slightly, making me twitch. Why don't these jerks ever have warm hands ?

"So," the doctor says, "where did you first feel it? I'm guessing it was around …" he moves his hand across her bellybutton. "Here?"

Eve frowns. She looks at Marcus, who is also frowning.

That's not a good sign.

"Sorry," Marcus says, "feel what, exactly?"

The doctor stops. "The pup's first kick?"

The whole room goes silent. Eve's eyes are a wide, stunned lilac, her lips parted ever-so-slightly. Not even Baxter seems to know what to say. I can't tell if the mood is more anxious or excited, let alone which of those emotions I feel.

Suddenly Red bursts, "The pup kicked ? And no-one told me?"

Thorn growls under his breath.

"N–no," Eve stammers. "They haven't. I mean—" she clutches her stomach. " I haven't. Because they haven't."

Red scowls. "Huh?"

This time it's Baxter who growls, nudging Red out of the way. He squeezes Eve's hand. "You're alright, little one. Take a breath."

"Should they be kicking?" she asks anxiously, looking between Marcus and Doctor Perez. "Is something wrong? Are they okay?"

"Everything's fine," Marcus assures her.

"He's right," Doctor Perez says, trying to diffuse the tension. He squeezes some gel onto Eve's stomach and maneuvers the wand around, getting up an image. "Some pups don't start moving until well into their sixth month—even their seventh."

"Or maybe our timeline is a little off," Marcus suggests.

"How off?" Thorn presses.

"Here we go," the doctor intervenes. The room fills with that frantic, gorgeous heartbeat, making everyone loose a breath. Our pup is here. They're safe. "Healthy and happy as can be."

A few tears roll over Eve's cheeks. She quickly wipes them away. "So why aren't they k–kicking?"

"Well," he keeps moving the wand around, "each pup is different. But if I had to guess …"

I don't like the way he stops himself, like he's nervous for our reaction. I demand, "What?"

"I usually try not to say anything unless the pack specifically wants to know."

"Know what?" Baxter is growing equally impatient.

Finally, Doctor Perez pulls back. He gives us all a sheepish smile.

"Your pup is likely an omega."