I brush my thumb along her cheek.
“You’re okay,” I say breathlessly. “Sneed can’t hurt us anymore.”
Auryn closes her eyes, leaning into my palm. I move one hand to her hip, gliding it over her small frame. My thumb brushes the side of her stomach, and a whole new wave of terror and fear hits me.
He could have hurt her and our baby. He could have taken them both from me and my mates.
Because I know now Gage, Diego, and even fucking Olly…
That’s what they are. That’s what they’ve always been, but I didn’t understand that until Auryn came into our lives and showed us all the truth.
“You both are safe now,” I say, my voice shaking.
I’m not stupid enough to think that somehow this baby is mine. After what Sneed did to me, I know the chances are probably slim to none considering I only just started the path to actually working my cock again. To be able to come and not feel immense pain. I wouldn’t be surprised if he screwed up my ability to have kids, period. He screwed up my ability to come. Screwed up my fucking psyche.
But regardless of whether or not this baby is mine or Gage’s or Diego’s or…
God, what if it’s fuckingOlly’s? I shudder at the thought. Because that would be… Well, I don’t know how I feel about that, so I’m not going to dwell on it for now. Though I know deep down, the truth is, I would still love our baby no matter what.
No matter who gets to claim their DNA, the fact is this baby is Auryn’s and it’sours.All of ours. And that makes me feel a strange pang of relief.
Auryn looks up at me with glassy eyes. “He can’t hurt you anymore, either.”
Her words settle on me, and I let myself feel the enormity of them.
I nod just as a splash pulls both of our attention. I look to the stream that cuts through the clearing, noting the rushing water, and I get an idea. I grab her hand, tug her towards it.
“Come here,” I say, feeling on the edge of a cliff.
Once again, she lets me lead her. She doesn’t fight or argue, and I wish I could say I wanted her to, but a part of me knows I need this.
I need to know Icanlead her. And that she’ll let me.
That she still wants me and my fucked-up cock and forever-altered brain.
When we get to the stream, the first thing I do is remove my shirt. I watch her reaction, note the way her pupils dilate, and the scent of lemongrass and sunshine is prevalent. Her omega is front and center. My alpha responds to this, knowing this is the way it’s supposed to be.
There’s the omega I want.
I smirk, but then she smiles and licks her lips.
“Like what you see, princess?” I tease. She nods.
“You smell good,” she says, her voice husky and dark, and suddenly I get a whiff of peppercorn. A thick cloud of cinnamon.
There’s the alpha I want.
“Oh yeah? What do I smell like?” I ask as she carefully starts to undress herself, but I stop her.
“Ah-ah!” I hold her hand in place. “I didn’t say you could do that.”
She smirks, batting her dark lashes at me, and then she growls. “You smell like vanilla and burnt cherries.”
I squint, my eyebrows furrowing. “What?”
Before I can protest, because I thought my omega scent shit went away, her hands are on me. She rips at the belt of my pants, and it’s like a switch is flipped. I grab her and kiss her as she tears at my clothes, and my own hands make a fight to remove her from hers.
Everything is a blur. Of cinnamon and sunshine and lavender, of blood and flesh, of lust and love.
