"Dusty."
I turn back to see him watching me with an expression I can't quite read. "Yeah?"
"Thank you," he says simply. "For bringing your brother here. For being willing to share this with him."
The words make my chest tight with emotion. Kade knows how much I've wanted this, how much having Stefan as part of our pack means to me. The fact that he's not just tolerating it but actively working toward making it happen means everything.
"Thank you for being willing to try," I respond, my voice rougher than I intend.
Stefan looks between us, something like wonder crossing his face. "You two really are something else."
"Get used to it," I tell him with a grin. "Because if Kade gets his way, you're going to be seeing a lot more of this."
I slip out of the office before either of them can respond, heading back toward the kitchen to find Solana. Whatever happens next, whatever complications arise from having two Omegas and three Alphas all trying to figure out pack dynamics, we'll handle it together.
That's what family does.
Chapter thirty-four
Solana
I step up to the dresser to find an outfit already chosen for me, relief settling in my chest. Dustin always remembers that I don’t want to choose things like that. It’s easier not to. I pick up the fabric and twist around at the sound of a small moo. Through the window, I can see Moo-Shu outside grazing peacefully, completely oblivious to the chaos running around in my head.
I huff out a small laugh, my thought immediately forming around lunch and what else Ashton might need. He's still recovering in the guest room, pale and hurt, and the urge to care for him is strong. I should make him another plate, maybe some soup this time since the eggs and toast seemed to sit well with him. Stefan too. He needs to eat, needs to keep his strength up while his leg heals.
I pause in the middle of pulling open a drawer, my hands stilling on the wood. Why am I in this nurturing mode? Why all of a sudden do I need to fix this, to make everything better for people I barely know? The drive is overwhelming, consuming my thoughts in ways that feel almost compulsive.
Maybe it's just my Omega instincts, finally free to express themselves after years of suppression at Harmony House. Maybe this is what I'm supposed to be like, caring and nurturing and focused on the wellbeing of those around me. The thought should probably concern me, this need to take care of everyone, but it just feels right. Natural in ways nothing at Harmony House ever did.
I think about Ashton lying in that guest room, probably staring at the ceiling and worrying about what comes next. About Stefan limping around on an injured leg, trying to be strong despite the pain he's clearly in. About Kade and Dustin managing everything while also preparing for my heat. Everyone needs something, and I want to be the one to provide it.
The realization doesn't scare me like maybe it should. At Harmony House, they told us that caring too much was a weakness, that Omegas who got too attached to others were setting themselves up for disappointment and pain. They trained us to be self-contained, to not reach out, to not offer comfort we weren't explicitly asked to give.
But that feels wrong now. Being here, being free, being surrounded by people who actually care about me has shown me that caring isn't weakness. It's strength. It's connection. It's what makes us human instead of the empty vessels Harmony House tried to create.
I'm standing in just my panties, rummaging through the drawer for a bra, when a cramp so fierce it steals my breath rips through my abdomen. The pain is sudden and intense, nothing like the mild discomfort I've been experiencing over the past two days. This is different, sharper, more demanding.
I bend over, my hands gripping the edge of the dresser as another wave hits. Slick coats my panties immediately, warm and wet and excessive in a way that tells me this isn't just another small spike. A long distressed whine pulls from my lips before I can stop it, the sound foreign to my own ears.
I was sure I had a little bit more time. The spikes have been manageable, brief moments of need that Kade and Dustin helped me through before everything settled again. But this feels different. This feels like my real heat, not the little preview my body has been giving me.
The cramping intensifies, radiating from my core outward until my whole body aches with it. My legs shake, barely able to support my weight. More slick gushes from me, soaking through my panties completely and starting to run down my thighs. The sight should embarrass me but all I can focus on is the desperate need building inside.
I try to breathe through the cramp, remembering what Kade taught me about staying calm and not panicking. In through my nose, out through my mouth, slow and steady. But it's hard when my whole body feels like it's on fire, when the need building inside me is so intense I can barely think straight.
Another cramp starts before the first one fully fades, this one making me cry out. The sound is loud, desperate, exactly the kind of thing I've been taught to suppress. But I can't help it, can't contain the vocalization of pain and need. My fingers dig into the dresser edge, knuckles going white with the force of my grip.
The bedroom door bursts open and Dustin is there, his eyes wild as he takes in the scene. Me bent over the dresser, nearly naked, slick running down my thighs and my whole body trembling. He doesn't hesitate, doesn't ask questions. Just crosses the room in three long strides and scoops me up in his arms.
"I've got you, sunshine," he murmurs, carrying me to the nest. "I've got you."
His voice cuts through the haze of pain and need, grounding me. I cling to him, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he moves. The motion jostles me, sending another wave of cramping through my abdomen, and I whimper against his chest.
He settles me carefully among the pillows and blankets, his hands gentle despite the urgency I can feel radiating from him. The nest smells like all of us now, our combined scents creating something that makes my Omega instincts purr with satisfaction even through the pain.
I cling to him, my fingers digging into his shoulders as another cramp tears through me. "Please," I plead, not even sure what I'm asking for. Relief, comfort, anything to make this desperate need stop consuming me. "Please, Dustin, I need—"
"I know what you need," he assures me, his voice dropping into that low register that makes my core clench. "I'm going to take care of you."
