Long Night
~THEODORE~
Iwalk out of the bathroom into the hallway of Winter Pine Lodge's exclusive luxury cabin, steam following me out like a personal cloud, wrapping around my shoulders before dissipating into the cooler hallway air.
My skin is still warm and slightly pink from the near-scalding water I'd used, muscles loose and pliant from the heat. A yawn catches me completely off guard—deep and jaw-cracking and utterly impossible to suppress.
I'm exhausted.
Bone-deep, muscle-aching, ready-to-collapse-into-bed-and-sleep-for-twelve-hours exhausted.
The day has been relentless in the best and worst ways possible.
Started at 0500 hours with a brutal two-hour workout session at Iron Haven Fitness Center—full body training with heavy compound lifts, cardio intervals that left me drenched in sweat and gasping, core work that had my abs screaming.
I'd pushed harder than usual, trying to burn off nervous energy about picking up Reverie's credit card.
Then unexpectedly meeting up with the entire pack in Millbrook when what was supposed to be a quick solo trip to the bank turned into a group adventure. Shopping at TechSavvy Electronics with River, watching Nash casually drop his American Express card like it was nothing while buying Reverie a phone and laptop that cost more than some people's monthly rent. Her adorable protests about spending money, her shocked face when she realized we were serious.
The wild horseback ride across those frost-covered fields with cold November wind cutting into any exposed skin like tiny knives, adrenaline pumping through veins in a way I haven't felt since active duty. Racing Nash and losing by barely a second—which he won't let me forget.
Coming to Winter Pine Lodge for what was supposed to be a simple dinner reservation and maybe basic overnight accommodations to avoid driving in the predicted snowstorm.
Except nothing is simple or basic when Reverie is involved.
Nothing ever goes according to plan in the best possible way.
The owner—a warm, friendly woman in her fifties named Patricia with laugh lines around her eyes and an infectious enthusiasm—recognized Reverie immediately from her Instagram live stream that had apparently been shared extensively across local Millbrook community Facebook groups and neighborhood apps.
She'd practically vibrated with excitement, insisting on giving us a complete comprehensive tour of the entire sprawling property. Showed us the main lodge with its massive stone fireplace and exposed timber beams, the restaurant with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the forest, the indoor pool andspa facilities, the various room options from standard to luxury suites.
She'd gushed enthusiastically about how wonderful it would be to have an actual influencer feature Winter Pine Lodge in her content, how it would help bring awareness to their small business, how local tourism could benefit.
Then she'd insisted—absolutely insisted, wouldn't take no for an answer—on offering us the exclusive luxury cabin for the night completely free of charge as long as Reverie mentioned them in her social media posts and tagged the location.
The generosity, eyes shining with grateful tears had completely overwhelmed Reverie, promising profusely to do a full detailed lodge feature tomorrow morning with photos and videos and glowing reviews.
Then dinner.
The most luxurious, decadent meal I've had in months—possibly years if I'm being honest. Braised short ribs that fell off the bone with the lightest touch of a fork, so tender and flavorful they practically melted on the tongue. Roasted root vegetables glazed with local honey and fresh thyme, caramelized to perfection.
Fresh-baked sourdough bread still warm from the oven with herb-infused butter that Patricia made herself. And for dessert, a chocolate lava cake with a molten center that made Reverie moan in a way that had all three of us Alphas shifting uncomfortably in our seats and adjusting our pants under the table.
I'm absolutely stuffed.
Pleasantly sore from the day's physical exertion. But there's this odd sense of satisfaction settling warmly in my chest that I don't quite know what to do with or how to process.
It's strange experiencing this feeling. Foreign and unfamiliar. Like trying on clothes that don't quite fit your usual style butsomehow feel more comfortable than anything you've ever worn before. This is the first time in my thirty-two years that I've felt kind of... whole.
Complete in a way I didn't even know I was missing pieces until suddenly they all clicked into place.
Is this how it's supposed to feel with an Omega who genuinely loves you?
Who wants to be around you not out of obligation or contract terms or financial dependency but real, authentic affection? Someone who lights up when you walk into a room instead of shrinking away or flinching?
An individual who makes you want to be better than you are?
The towel wrapped around my waist is the only thing I'm wearing.
