Milton leans over and places his phone down in front of us. Seems he was looking ahead of us.
“How about this one? It looks perfect.” Milton’s face is full of excitement.
We all crowd around his phone, taking in everything—tThe bedrooms, layouts, square footage, location. The guys are even looking at the schools in the district for when we start having children. Each of them wants two. Me, I think three will be the max. One for each of them. But I know they’ll win out in the end.
Set it up.I sign.Maybe we can go after my appointment today.
On it.Milton signs back, picking up his phone, hitting some buttons then holding it to his ear.
Lincoln slips his arms around my back, draping his hand over my shoulder. I lean into his embrace. Over the last month, I’ve been talking to the guys about my implant, especially after the appointment I had right after my heat. It’s functioning so badly, and I was given two options—remove it and replace it with a new one, or keep the failing device.
I offered a third option. Removing it all together.
The guys asked me why I wouldn’t want a new one. I didn’t have to think about it. When I was given the opportunity to hear, not much, but a little, I was over the moon ecstatic. Then as the years passed, it started failing until I barely heard anything. This was devastating, and it impacted how I felt each and every day. It was a constant stress, and I worried every day if that would be the day I lost sound totally. Until one day, I realized that was a good thing. I don’t want to go through that again. I’m happy with who I am, and I just want to live the rest of my life in a soundless world, knowing that I’m loved by three amazing men.
When I explained it like that, they said they would support me completely. And they have. They’re even going to my appointment with me with the surgeon to discuss having it removed.
“We’ve got an appointment at three today. Before we go to Bayleigh’s appointment, we just need to swing by the office andpick up the keys to look at it,” Milton tells us, a huge grin on his face.
I know it the minute we step into the house.
It’s our home.
Everything about it feels right. Home. Milton can’t stop smiling, gloating that he’s the one who picked it.
It’s twenty minutes from the Kraken rink. Perfect for Milton, Korbin, and myself. Since Lincoln spends more time out of his office than in it, the drive for him is inconsequential. One of the best parts is that there’s an office big enough for two desks in it, so that Lincoln and I can work from home when we want to.
Moving through the house, I take in the large windows. There’s light everywhere, with the sun spilling across the warm wood floors. I’d never put anything but sheer curtains up, wanting it to feel like this all the time.
The air feels… clean. Untouched. Not haunted by anyone else’s memories. Of an omega who isn’t me being in the space I inhabit.
I step into the kitchen and stop dead in my tracks.
It’s huge.
The images on the site didn’t do it justice.
It’s nothing flashy—just open and bright, with a wide island, deep sink, and cabinets that stretch toward the ceiling. Sunlight pours in through a window above where a breakfast table would go. For the first time in our search, I can picture myself in this home. I can picture my alphas here with me.
Cooking. Laughing. Feeding our pack.
“Oh.” The word slips out loud from my mouth.
Milton grins instantly before speaking. “She’s gone.”
Lincoln smiles in agreement. “We’ve lost her to the kitchen.”
Korbin watches me carefully, eyes sharp, before he nods once. “This is the one.”
They don’t rush me. They let me continue to explore the rest of the house. I touch everything as if I’m some kind of inspector making sure the home has been built sturdy.
The bedrooms are spacious, the living room open and warm. But it’s the master suite that makes all three of my alphas salivate.
It’s massive.
A sitting area by the windows. A bedroom large enough to hold more than just a bed big enough for us all to sleep in comfortably. Lincoln glances at the layout, and I already know he’s mentally placing furniture in the room.
“This could be not only our pack room, but your personal room as well,” Milton speaks. “There’s enough bedrooms that you can kick us out to one of them until we have kids in them.”
