“That’s…” She presses her palms to her eyes. “God, Ford. That’s overwhelming.”
“I know.” I catch her wrists gently, lowering her hands so I can see her again. “I know it’s a lot. But I couldn’t keep it from you anymore. Not when you’re here. Not when you’re wearing my marks on your breasts and shaking apart in my arms and still trying to carry it all alone.”
Her gaze flicks over my face, frantic, searching for a lie.
She won’t find one.
“You should hate me for it,” I admit. “For not telling you sooner. For staying silent when you left, when you needed someone to fight for you. And I understand if you do. If this ruins things with us.” My hand cups her cheek, thumb brushing the damp there. “But you should also know, I never stopped choosing you. Not once. There’s never been another woman—another Omega—for me except you.”
Her breath catches. And then, finally, she whispers the truth back, raw and unsteady:
“You were bonded to me this whole time.”
I nod. My chest is caving in. “Always will be.”
Hayes’s voice calls from the hall. “Bath’s ready.”
Lo startles, blinking fast. Beck appears next, a steaming mug in his hand, chamomile curling soft into the air. His gaze lands on her, then me, and something unreadable flickers across his face before he sets the mug on the side table.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Hayes says gently, reappearing in the doorway, sleeves shoved up, damp at the edges from testing the water. “You’ll feel better.”
Lo hesitates. I feel it in the way her body tightens against mine, in the quick little dart of her eyes. I give her waist a reassuring squeeze.
“Let us take care of you,” I murmur. “Your heat was long. You need it.”
“How long?” she whispers.
“Five days,” I respond.
Her eyes widen. But between the three of us, we get her moving. Beck takes her hand, Hayes guides her with a steady palm at her back, and I stay close enough that she can lean when her knees wobble.
The bathroom’s warm and lit low, steam curling up from the clawfoot tub Hayes has half-filled with lavender bubbles. It smells soft and safe. Exactly what she deserves. Lo breathes it in like she’s been underwater and finally broken the surface.
Beck kneels first, testing the water again, then holds out a hand. “Come on, Trouble. In you go.”
She huffs out the smallest laugh at the nickname. Hayes and I steady her as we help her out of her clothes, and then she sinks into the water. She exhales, shoulders finally easing.
“That good?” Hayes asks, crouching beside her.
Her eyes flutter shut. “Better than good.”
I sit behind her on the little stool, rolling up my sleeves. I wet a washcloth, wring it out, then start slow at her arm. She doesn’t pull away. Beck takes the other side, his big hand surprisingly gentle as he mirrors me. Hayes pours warm water down her hair, careful not to get her face.
It turns quiet, just the sound of water sloshing, the faint clink of Beck setting the tea within her reach.
Then Lo cracks her eyes open, glances between us, and whispers, “You guys are too cute.”
Beck smirks. “Takes one to know one.”
Hayes chuckles, shaking his head. “Don’t act like you don’t love it.”
Lo’s lips twitch. “Maybe a little.”
That’s all it takes. The tension loosens, the air shifts to something lighter. Jokes tumble out in low voices, the kind that doesn’t demand anything from her but allows her to sit insidethe safety of it all. She laughs once, sudden and soft, and the sound fills the room.
I meet Beck’s eyes over her bowed head. He looks at me, then at her, and nods once. Not forgiveness, not yet. But something close.
Hayes catches it, too. He squeezes her shoulder, warm and sure. “Drink your tea, Lo. Then we’ll tuck you in so you can get some more sleep.”
