“Missed you, too, Olly,” he says, patting my chest.
I growl at the touch, but it doesn’t last long. Because just as he removes his hand, I hear the high-pitched wail of Linnea coming from down the hall.
I stand, frozen, and Emmet purrs. “It gets easier,” he says matter-of-factly.
I’m not sure what he means, but before I can ask, he heads off for the boys, leaving me alone in the hallway. I take slow, calculated steps towards our nest—which has seen substantial renovations in the last four years. What once was a bedroom with pushed together beds is now a whole suite. Gage knocked out the walls between the adjoining rooms, and Diego and Em built a much bigger nest. It was more than needed during Auryn’s first pregnancy with the twins.
I’m still shocked that this is my life. I don’t think I’ll ever get over the changes this compound has seen, or the changes Ihave gone through with my pack by my side.
When I enter the nest, I settle my gaze on Auryn. She’s doing her best to shush Linnea, but my girl looks irritated as hell. Her face is all pink, and her wail is hitting a pitch I can only assume dolphins can understand.
Auryn’s hair is a mess, falling out of her ponytail, thick strands falling over her exposed, swollen breasts. She’s topless, likely from a recent feeding, and her own cheeks are flushed, but the moment I look at her, everything around me slows down.
It takes her all of two seconds to look up at me and realize I’m here, and my momentary stare of appreciation dissipates.
“Hey,” she says, her lips turning up into a smile. Linnea must scent me too, because she squirms to turn herself around, but she can’t yet. I make my way over to the two of them, and she squirms some more.
“Hey,” I say with a smile. I reach for my daughter, leaning into Auryn’s space to kiss her as I sit on the ledge of the bed. Linnea’s wails soften, and Auryn’s hand finds my neck. Her cinnamon-sunshine scent hits me along with Linnea’s lemongrass and lavender.
There’s no way yet to know what her designation will be. Not until she’s a teenager, anyway. With alpha-omega and beta DNA, she, like her mother, is an enigma. We’ll have to watch her for what types of behaviors she exhibits. Her scent is still very much reminiscent of her mother’s, but it can change as she gets older, which will be another indicator as to what her designation will be.
But regardless of what science tells us, nothing can refute the fact that she is ours. Auryn’s, mine. My pack’s. And truly, that’s all that matters to me.
“Did you talk to Mishka?” she asks, letting go of me. I kick my shoes off, getting comfortable on the bed beside her. I shift Linnea onto my chest, running my hand up and down her back like the books say I should do. I’ve read almost every book on omega pregnancies and birth at the institute library and every one we have here. Still, everything seems to be trial and error. I know everything I should know, but when it comes to what works…
Auryn says I just need to trust my instincts. I’m trying to do that, but it isn’t easy. I want things to be right. For Auryn, for Linnea, for the other alphas, too.
Linnea shifts, kicking me in the ribs, but she’s no longer wailing, so I take that to mean this back-stroking thing works. I’ll note that for the future.
Auryn pulls her shirt over her bare breasts, and I have to focus on her face because I don’t want her to feel vulnerable about the fact she’s leaking through her shirt.
“I did,” I say, clearing my throat. I keep my eyes trained on hers, waiting for the shoe to drop. Linnea settles, burying her tiny face against my neck. Auryn still does that when we cuddle, and I smile when I think about it. Like mother, like daughter.
“And?” She shifts beside me. Outside the room, I hear Kendal and Riley screaming with laughter as Em yells he’s going to get them. I don’t know what that has to do with anything or why that’s so funny, but I don’t pay too much attention.
“Something’s definitely up, but he was pretty tight-lipped.”
She sighs. “Maybe we should talk to Calvin.”
I purse my lips. “Alphas are not my forte,” I say. “That’s Gage’s department.”
Auryn smirks at me, and the scent of peppercorn floods the space between us, mingling with spicy cinnamon.
“I don’t know, you seem to hold your own with the alphas I know.”
“You are different,” I say, leaning into her space without a second thought. “The guys are different.”
“Mm-hmm. So are you,” she says, finding my hand where it rests against Linnea’s back. I realize she’s quiet. Too quiet. I look down at where her head rests, noting her tiny mouth is open, and her eyes are shut. She’s asleep.
“I have you to thank for that, though. Had you not come here, I’d likely still be cooped up in my office, alone.”
“Maybe that’s what Mishka needs,” she says softly. She slides her fingers between mine, and we rest our hands together on our baby’s back.
My chest warms from where Linnea lays.
“A baby?” I tease her. She giggles.
“To know he’s not alone.”
