23. Tristian

"No use trying to sneak up. I clocked you when you opened the door."

Graham's footfalls sound on our back porch stairs behind me. We got home from our weekend at the cabin hours ago. I should be inside. I've got a mound of work to finish before tomorrow and a pack getting ready for bed. Instead, I made my way out here to sulk after we ate dinner.

"All right. Then you already know why I'm here." My mate's voice is kind and full of understanding. It makes me feel worse because I know he doesn't deserve my ire. It bubbles inside me anyway, ready to spill out.

I avoid his statement and ask a question of my own. "Are they asleep?"

"Just about. What's got you thinking out here alone instead of being where I know you want to be?"

I'm thinking that watching Sadie be wrecked by the surge of Elliot's bond made me feel helpless. I hate that the only thing I could do was watch while my mates battled a storm together. If this was a breakthrough, I don't know how I'll survive another. How many more before I simply crumble? And how ridiculous is that?

Nothing happened to me. I'm fine. In fact, I should be great. Elliot opened up to Graham about his past. He hugged Hunter and spent the drive home quietly talking to Sadie in the backseat. When we got home, the two of them snuggled in the nest, talking until dinner.

Everything is fine. Except I'm not.

"We pushed too far. It's too much at once." I grind the words out, frustrated, as I stare at the ancient oak toward the back of our property.

Graham steps closer. His body heat and scent are already working their magic. My muscles unlock. I should be grateful, but I can't muster it.

"For whom?"

His question pierces, sharp and deep.

Graham's steady voice doesn't waver, though I know he can feel my annoyance in the bond. "We agreed we would give him what he needs. He's asking for a push. He wants help getting there."

I blow out an angry breath, and with it, I deflate. "How many times do I have to watch him suffer, Graham? Or her? Because I don't think I can take it one more minute."

Graham wraps his arm around my shoulder and tugs me back against his broad chest. My hand reaches up to lock onto his, hoping it can anchor me. Because right now, I'm drifting.

"I know you're afraid. We've tried so many times. Little advances and then he pushes us back. But Doc, today wasn't like that," he says quietly.

"I can't lose him again. My heart can't take it." My words are shaky, my voice strained so that the words barely come.

His other hand wraps around my waist, and he squeezes me tightly. "I know, Doc. And you've been so freaking strong. I promise I've got us both this time."

"I'm sorry. I don't know why today was my limit." I turn my nose into his neck and snuggle against him.

"Naw. Don't apologize. How many times have you had to convince me not to lose hope?" He rocks me softly in his arms.

I shake my head. "That was before. You know, since you've done most of the convincing."

"Still counts, Doc."

I know he's right. It's what I've been preaching to both our mates. And I do believe it's true. It's okay to rely on others. And I know I'm feeling dejected because my heart is tired of waiting, even if I wish I had endless patience. So I ask for what I need. "Tell me the story again?"

Graham kisses my hair and pulls on my hand, tugging me through the backyard toward his tree. "This one time right after Elliot scared off the first omega—let's call that the time of BS."

"BS?" I interrupt.

"Before Sadie."

"That's new," I tease.

"It's my dream and I have the right to amend it as new details arise."

"By all means, carry on, oracle."

"You smartass. Do you want to hear the story or not?"

The nighttime insects create a low thrum in the air, and dangling from the old oak are glowing twinkle lights. Only a few steps into his garden and I'm lost in his dream world. It's easier out here, to hope.

I kiss his cheek, my words sincere instead of teasing this time. "Tell me the story, Graham."

He lets go of my hand and circles the tree while I sit in the old swing, watching him.

"So in the time of BS, after Elliot had stopped talking for that month. Do you remember? And you passed notes back and forth?" He leans against the tree, looking at me.

"Yeah." I have those notes in a book in my library. Little slips of paper that are stuffed between the pages of Whitman. Elliot had drawn himself in so tightly that we weren't sure he would come back out. Those little slips of paper were my lifeline.

"Gods, I love how sentimental you are," he says, shaking his head and giving me a lazy smile.

My cheeks heat, but I don't know why. Of course he knows I kept them. He probably knows the specific book. I push the swing slowly back and forth as his deep baritone fills the night air.

"I wasn't handling his silence with any grace. I was impatient and angry. Scared. I thought it might be hopeless. This one night, I had a dream that I got to write down three things I wanted, and they would all come true. But in the dream, I didn't actually write anything. You know how dreams are weird and you just know stuff?"

"Yeah, like who people are, but they don't look the same, or you know a place but not why you know it."

"Exactly. And in this dream, I had the overwhelming sense that I would get what I wanted when I walked through this closed door."

I close my eyes so I can picture what comes next.

"When I stepped outside, I knew I was stepping into our backyard, but it was different. The garden was in full bloom, the scent of peonies and sandalwood thick in the air. There was a treehouse in the old oak, painted to look like a fairy castle. But the most surprising thing was these two little redheaded girls racing around the yard. They had crown braids in their hair and Elliot chased them, pretending to stomp around. He growled, ‘Who dares eat my porridge?' And the girls giggled when he pretended to gobble them up."

He's told me this story a dozen times on days like today when I've lost my hope and I can't find the light. And each time, it hits me like it did the first time, stealing all my breath.

His voice is heavy with emotion. "And somehow in my dream, I knew that we had found our omega, that Elliot was ours, and that those sweet girls were ours too. In that dream, our pack was content. We had made the kind of life and the kind of family we've always wanted."

His words linger in the air like pixie dust. I want so badly to believe that it's true. It is, isn't it? We've already found our redheaded fairy.

Graham comes to stand in front of the swing, cupping my face between his palms. "After that dream, I knew I had to be patient because our omega was coming. And everything would change."

I look up into his eyes and see his conviction. "I hope you are an oracle, because I love that dream."

"Me too, Doc. And that dream with Sadie and Elliot is worth fighting for."

"I know."

He kisses the side of my mouth, my nose, my lips. "So, come back inside and fight for that dream with me."

After finishingthe last of my work for tomorrow, I slip into bed to lie by Graham's side. He's in the middle, lying next to Elliot, who has a snuggling Sadie on his chest. On our other side, Hunter and Lo are in similar positions.

"Come here, Doc," Sadie's sleepy voice calls.

I was hoping they would already be asleep by the time I crawled into bed, but no such luck. My cheeks heat as Graham and I fumble our way into switching spots.

I'm known in the pack for being a bit of a mother hen. Hunter likes to tease that I'm a closeted Daddy. I do love taking care of my pack. But I failed in doing that gracefully today, and my ego is a little bruised.

I sigh and flop down on the mattress. "I'm good, precious. I just needed a minute."

Sadie shifts from where she's lying on Elliot's chest, snuggling against me until I raise my arm and let her burrow into my side.

"Today was hard. Thank you for holding me while we waited," she says softly.

Elliot turns on his side, the bed shifting under his weight and the blankets rustling. I can feel his gaze on me, though I can't see him clearly.

"I made a decision today that I should've made a long time ago," Elliot says. "I let ideas I don't believe rule my head. Thank you all for helping me see there's another way. I'm trying to get there. I'm asking that the pack hold me accountable. I'm not saying I'm not gonna have bad days. But I want to be a part of this pack, not always hanging out on the sidelines."

"You're already pack, El," Hunter says, voice full of affection. "But whatever you need, you got it."

"I know. And I love you all for it."

Elliot's hand touches my cheek, and I feel him move closer in the darkness. His thumb traces over my lip. "I'm ready. For everything, Doc."

His lips brush mine, slow and sweet. It's a first kiss, but it feels like a reunion. I learn his lips, his taste, but it also feels like a memory, or maybe a dream.

He pulls away to rest his forehead against mine. "Sweet dreams, Doc."

I close my eyes and think of Graham's dream, and hope that maybe, just maybe, it will turn out to be real.