The relief that crosses his face is almost painful to witness, and he presses a kiss to my temple, lingering there like it matters.
Connor’s already at my feet, gently massaging my calves, thumbs digging into tender muscles.
“We pushed you hard,” he says, not quite apologetic, more like…awed. “Didn’t mean to be animals about it.”
I smile, dazed and blissed out.
“Youareanimals. That’s kind of the point.”
Beau lets out a huff of breath behind me—half laugh, half growl—and pulls the duvet up over my hips. His palm coasts up my back, big and grounding.
“Can’t believe you took us all like that.”
“I can,” I murmur. “I wanted it. All of it.”
That gets a reaction from all of them.
A shift. A collective breath.
“Still,” Beau murmurs, “we take care of what’s ours.”
The wordourslands deep, heavy and right.
Theo tucks himself closer, forehead resting against my shoulder as Connor stretches out along my legs, warm and solid. Beau stays behind me, surrounding without smothering, the bond between us quiet but present—like a heartbeat under skin.
I stare up at the ceiling, still floating somewhere between awake and gone, and whisper.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this full or this empty at the same time.”
Beau chuckles.
“We’ll fix that in a few hours, Omega. Don’t worry.”
Connor tangles our legs.
“This was nothing, really. You reckon you’re gonna be able to survive heat after this?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, my voice small. “I feel like I’m gonna float right out of my skin.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Theo whispers, brushing his nose along mine. “You’re safe here.”
I bite my lip, the sting of tears suddenly sharp in my throat. Not from pain, not even from the overwhelming pleasure I’d been drowning in downstairs, but from this—thistenderness.
The way they’re all watching me like I’m sacred. The way they’regentle.
Hands move through my hair, and fingers trace slow, soothing paths along my arm. Someone presses a glass of water to my lips; someone else reminds me to drink, and I let them hold me.
This shouldn’t feel real, but it does, and as sleep finally pulls me under, wrapped in warmth and steady breathing, one truth settles deeper than instinct:
I’m not alone anymore.
I don’t have to be.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Emery
The Icebox feels different now.
