I’m going to build her something. When this is over. Something beautiful, something that shows her what I can’t say. A piece of furniture for her home, maybe. Or a carving. Something she can touch and know that I see her. That I understand her.
That I love her.
The thought surfaces and I don’t push it away. It’s too early to say it. Too soon, too intense, too much during heat. But Iknow it’s true. I’ve known since she walked into my workshop six months ago to ask about custom chairs for some town event.
She’d stood there with her clipboard and her schedules and she’d looked at my work, really looked, like it mattered. Like the hours I’d spent carving and sanding and finishing meant something.
No one looks at me like that. Like they see the person behind the silence.
She did. She does.
My knot finally softens. I ease out of her carefully, slowly, and she whimpers but doesn’t wake. Slick and my release drip out of her, and the sight sends a possessive thrill through me that I don’t try to suppress.
Mine. Ours. Pack.
I pull her against my chest, tuck her head under my chin, and close my eyes.
Somewhere in the nest, I hear Milo shifting. Ben’s breathing has the deep, even rhythm of sleep. We’re all here. All together. Taking care of our omega.
It feels right.
For the first time in years, I don’t feel like the odd one out. Don’t feel like the quiet guy in the corner that people forget is there. I’m part of something. Part of them. Part of her.
Another wave will hit soon. The heat isn’t over yet. But for now, in this quiet moment between waves, I let myself rest.
I dream of building her a home.
I wake to her whimpering.
The sound cuts through sleep instantly. I’m alert before my eyes open, my body already responding to my omega in distress.
Our omega. She’s ours.
The possessiveness doesn’t scare me anymore. It feels natural and right.
“Shh.” I gather her closer. “I’m here.”
But it’s not me she needs. I can tell by the way she’s moving, restless and seeking. The heat is building again, and she needs to be filled.
“Ben.” I keep my voice low. “Wake up.”
He’s awake instantly. Alpha instincts. “What’s wrong?”
“She needs you.”
He doesn’t ask questions. Just moves to my side, takes one look at Tessa’s flushed face and desperate expression, and nods.
I ease her toward him. She goes willingly, her hands already reaching, her body already arching toward his warmth.
“Hey, beautiful.” Ben’s voice is rough with sleep but gentle. “I’ve got you. Come here.”
I watch him pull her close. Watch his hands slide over her body, familiar now after hours of learning her. Watch her melt into him, the tension draining from her muscles as he gives her what she needs.
I should feel jealous. I don’t.
Instead, I feel something warm spread through my chest. Pride, maybe. Or satisfaction. This is pack. This is what it looks like when alphas work together instead of compete.
Ben catches my eye over Tessa’s shoulder, and something passes between us—understanding and respect.
