He lets out a shaky laugh. “You’re proposing to me while I’m wearing a hospital gown.”
I look at the flimsy fabric, then back at his face. “Do you want flowers and a ring instead? I can make a big thing of it, put it on the jumbotron at a game, take out an ad in the fucking paper.”
“Not necessary,” he says on a shaky chuckle. His eyes are shimmering now, but the despair I saw in them weeks ago is gone. “I’ll take you not running.”
“I am never running again,” I promise.
The curtain rustles. The doctor steps in, my mates right behind him. He’s got a tablet in his hand and a practiced calm on his face. He looks between us, eyes lingering for a second on our joined hands.
“Good,” he says. “You’re all here. Let us talk about how we’re going to keep your omega and your three little ones safe.”
I tighten my fingers around Hudson’s and meet the doctor’s gaze head on.
For the first time, I feel like I’m standing in the right place.
Not in a courtroom. Not behind a desk.
Here, at Hudson’s side.
Where I should have been all along.
CHAPTER 46
Hudson
Iswear the ceiling above the pack bed has become my closest companion. I’ve memorized every faint swirl in the plaster, every tiny shadow cast by the chandelier we barely use. Modified bed rest sounds pleasant in concept – rest, relaxation, being doted on – but in reality, it’s me versus gravity, boredom, and three overprotective alphas who hover like big, sexy storm clouds.
My body feels heavy in a way I didn’t expect. I’m not even that big yet, not compared to how I’ll look in a few months, but carrying triplets is already pressing on my lungs and lower back. My belly’s round enough that my favorite pajama pants don’t quite fit, but small enough that Mason insists I shouldn’tfeelthis tired. He doesn’t say it to be dismissive; he says it like he’s pleading for the universe to give me a gentler path.
I didn’t hear him come into the room, but suddenly he’s there – fixing the blanket that slipped off my legs, adjusting a pillow behind me like he’s afraid I’ll break.
“You comfortable?” he asks quietly.
“Yes,” I say, even though I’m not.
Mason’s been different since the scare. Softer. Quieter. More careful with me than he is with anyone else on the planet. His bond sits open more often now, like he’s forgotten to bolt the door shut. The waves of guilt, fear, love – it all flows through.
I reach for his hand. “Sit with me.”
His inhale is sharp and slightly shaky. He still thinks he doesn’t deserve that invitation.
But he still sits.
The bed dips under his weight, and I lean into his shoulder. A second later, he wraps one arm around me, his hand splaying protectively across the side of my belly.
The babies shift under his palm, a flutter of movement that feels like sparks under my skin.
He goes still. “Hudson…they’re moving.”
“Pretty sure they’re practicing choreography,” I say, smiling when he huffs a laugh.
He presses his face to my temple. I feel him breathe me in as though trying to draw my scent deep into his lungs.
Desmond appears in the doorway a moment later, holding a mug of peppermint tea. “Time for your hydration,” he announces, sounding far too pleased with himself.
Alex follows behind him, carrying a small plate with crackers, turkey slices, and cheese. “And your protein.”
I groan. “You three are the worst nurses.”
