“What happened to tattooing my name on your ass?”
The hoarse mumble takes us all by surprise as our attention snaps to the bed. Ava blinks up at us sleepily.
“You’re so damned loud,” she grumbles. Max perches next to her with a soft smile. “Sorry, love.”
He checks her vitals again. “Doesn’t look like you have a concussion, but we’ll keep an eye on you just in case.”
Ava nods, before wincing. “Bad idea.”
She lays her head back with a soft huff. “Where is he?”
Luc glares at her, holding onto his grudge for locking us out of the damn nursery. “Far away from here.”
I cough into my fist. To be precise, he’s about six miles east, buried in wasteland and unlikely to be discovered for a very long time.
Rest in hell, asshole.
“How are you doing?” Max asks her. “Today was a lot.”
Ava grimaces. “Understatement.” Blowing out a breath, she stares at the ceiling. “I’m not sure,” she admits. “I think I need some time to process.”
“We have time,” Max reminds her. “As much as you need, now.”
“Now all the demons are vanquished?” she quips, her eyes tired. “Luc, what are you going to do now you don’t have to worry about me anymore?”
Luc takes her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckle. “I have a feeling I’ll never stop worrying about you, brat.”
“What would you like to do?” I ask, and her hazel eyes move to mine hesitantly. “To do?”
“If you had the choice, right now. What would you like to do?”
She considers for a moment, worrying her lips with her teeth.
“I think I might want to help other omegas,” she whispers. “Ones like me, I mean.”
“Like a support center?” Max asks, surprised, and she nods. “They’ll need one, and I don’t trust our government to do it.”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea.” My hands itch for my sketchpad. I can already imagine the center layout in my mind, the different spaces we’re likely to need.
Ava hesitates. “It’s a lot of work. And money.”
Luc smirks. “We have enough money to create anything you want to do, brat. Trust me.”
“Safe space,” I murmur. Ava twists her head slowly to look at me, a spark appearing in her eyes. “Safe space,” she whispers. “That’s exactly what it should be, Nik.”
It’ll need to be somewhere central. My eyes flick to Nash.
“I’d like Nash to go to a real school,” I admit. “Make some friends his own age.”
We’re not there yet. Whilst the Creed is all but abolished, there are other laws that will need formal removal. But for the first time, I have hope. Hope that my son can have a future. That our children can choose their own path.
And it’s all because of Ava. The tiny omega who dared to take on the government and won.
My eyes mist, and I swallow back the emotion.
“I love you,” I blurt, and she stares at me, her lips curling into a shy smile. “I love you too,” she murmurs. Nash stirs, and she strokes a hand through his hair until he settles down.
In unison, a cry rings out from the monitor clipped to my hip.
