"She knows." Sawyer's rough voice cut through the kitchen, low and certain. He hadn't moved from his spot at the table, his big hands wrapped around his coffee mug, his pale eyes steady. "She'll know more every day. Just be patient."
We fell into an easy rhythm after that — setting the table, plating food, moving around each other with the familiarity of years of practice. By the time Aster appeared in the doorway, dressed in jeans and a soft sweater, her hair still damp from a quick shower, the table was set and breakfast was ready.
She hesitated in the doorway, her eyes moving from face to face, her shoulders tight with tension, and I could see her bracing herself. Waiting for something to be different. For someone to be angry or cold or resentful.
Instead, Kol bounded over to her like an overeager puppy, stopping just short of actually touching her, his whole body vibrating with barely contained excitement.
"Good morning!" His voice was bright, his smile almost blindingly happy, his amber eyes warm as they met hers. "I made bacon. Well, Nolan made most of it, but I helped. Sort of. I didn't burn it too badly. Are you hungry? You should eat. Nolan says you need protein for—" He caught himself, glancing back at Nolan with wide, panicked eyes. "Uh. For energy. Just regular energy. Normal breakfast reasons."
Aster stared at him for a moment, something unreadable in her expression, her gray eyes searching his face. Then she laughed — a real laugh, bright and surprised — and some of the tension in the room dissolved like morning mist.
"Thanks, Kol." She smiled at him, soft and genuine, the wariness in her eyes fading. "I'm starving, actually."
His whole face lit up, his grin stretching so wide it must have hurt, his scent spiking with pure joy. "Really? Great! Come sit. I'll get you a plate. Do you want coffee? Juice? Both? Nolan made those fancy pancakes you liked last time, with the?—"
"Kol." Nolan's voice was fond but firm, cutting through the babble with practiced ease. "Let her breathe."
"Right. Sorry." But Kol was still grinning as he pulled out a chair for her with a flourish, practically vibrating with the effort of containing himself. Aster slid into the seat, and Sawyer silently pushed a full mug of coffee toward her, the ceramic scraping softly against the wooden table. She wrapped her hands around it, breathing in the steam, her eyes closing for a moment, and some of the remaining tension drained from her shoulders.
I took the seat beside her, close enough that our shoulders brushed, and let my hand find hers under the table. She squeezed back, her grip tight, and I felt her take a slow, deep breath.
"Thank you." Her voice was quiet, meant for all of us, her gray eyes moving around the table. "For not making this weird." Nolan set a plate in front of her — pancakes, bacon, eggs, fruit, enough food for two people — his green eyes warm as he looked down at her. "There's nothing weird about it. This is how packs work. We share everything. Including the good things."
"Especially the good things." Kol plopped into the seat across from her, his own plate piled high, his amber eyes bright. "We've been waiting for you for years, Aster. Whatever makes you happy makes us happy. That's the deal."
Sawyer grunted in agreement, which was basically a full speech coming from him, his pale eyes steady on her face. Aster looked around the table, her eyes bright, something fragile and hopeful blooming in her expression. Under the table, her hand tightened in mine.
"Okay." Her voice was thick with emotion. "Okay."
We ate breakfast together — all five of us, the way it was meant to be. Kol chattered about nothing and everything, his voice a constant bright stream of words. Nolan made sure everyone's plates stayed full, his movements efficient and caring. Sawyer was his usual silent self, but his presence was steady, grounding. And I kept my hand in Aster's whenever I could, feeling her pulse against my palm.
Something had shifted. We all felt it. She was ours now in a way she hadn't been before — not because of what had happened between us last night, but because she'd let us see her vulnerable. Let us catch her when she fell. Let us put her back together.
This was just the beginning. There would be more mornings like this, more nights, more moments of trust and intimacy and pack. She would come to the others when she was ready — I knew it, and they knew it, and I suspected she was beginning to know it too.
For now, this was enough.
For now, this was everything.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
ASTER
Three days after the morning everything changed, Kol found me in the pack room. I was rearranging again — moving pillows, adjusting blankets, trying to get the nest just right. It was never quite right. Something always felt off, something always needed to be shifted two inches to the left or fluffed a little more or tucked in a different way. Nolan said it was normal, that nesting instincts could be obsessive, especially for Omegas who'd never had a safe place to nest before.
I was starting to believe him.
"Hey." Kol's voice came from the doorway, soft and hesitant in a way that was nothing like his usual boisterous energy, his honey-blonde hair falling across his forehead as he leaned against the doorframe, his amber eyes warm but uncertain, his whole body held still in a way that seemed to take effort. "Can I... can I come in?"
"Of course." I sat back on my heels, brushing hair out of my face, watching him hover at the threshold like he wasn't sure hewas allowed, his fingers drumming nervously against his thigh. "You don't have to ask, Kol. You helped build this room."
"I know, but it's yours." He stepped inside slowly, his movements careful, almost tentative, so different from his usual bouncing energy, his scent muted — still honey and orange blossoms, but softer, more uncertain, like he was trying to take up less space. "I wanted to ask you something."
"Okay." I patted the nest beside me, and he crossed the room to sit, leaving a careful distance between us, his hands clasped tightly in his lap, his knee already starting to bounce with restless energy despite his obvious efforts to hold still.
"So." He rubbed the back of his neck, his amber eyes darting to mine and then away, his cheeks flushing pink beneath his golden skin, his words coming out in a rush like he'd been rehearsing them and was afraid he'd forget. "I was wondering if maybe — and you can totally say no, this is completely optional, no pressure at all — but I was thinking maybe I could cook dinner for you? Tonight? Just... just the two of us?"
The words tumbled over each other, and he winced at himself, his flush deepening, his scent spiking with anxiety that I could taste on my tongue.
