I'm not exaggerating. I'm looking down at them right now, propped up on a kitchen chair like two swollen beach balls that have decided to permanently attach themselves to my ankles. Seven months pregnant, and apparently my body has decided that normal-sized feet are for people who aren't growing an entire human.
Pine's making pancakes at the stove in the new kitchen extension we had built six months ago. The space is twice as big now, with windows that look out over the backyard and enough counter space for all three of my alphas to cook at once without bumping into each other. Cassian's squeezing orange juice with the kind of aggressive enthusiasm that suggests he thinks the oranges personally offended him. Jett's setting the table like we're hosting the Queen of England instead of just having breakfast on a Tuesday.
"Your feet look fine," Pine says without looking up from the stove.
"Liar," I say. "My feet look like I'm smuggling balloons under my skin."
"Beautiful balloons," Cassian adds, setting down a plate of bacon. "The most attractive foot-balloons I've ever seen."
I throw a napkin at him. He catches it without looking, which is annoyingly impressive.
This is my life now. Three alphas who think I'm gorgeous even when I waddle like a penguin and can't see my own feet. A house that actually feels like home instead of just a place to keep my stuff. Grandpa living in the spare bedroom in the extension, grumbling about his morning shows but secretly loving that we're all here together. A business that exploded after we planned Tangle Peak's wedding and suddenly everyone in the country wanted us to plan theirs.
Bourbon Bliss Weddings went from "please someone hire us" to "we're booked solid for the next two years" in about six months. Savannah made me a full partner, which means I now co-own a wedding planning business. Me. The girl who showed up in Pine Hollow a year ago planning her ex's fraudulent wedding and stress-eating brownies in hotel rooms.
Life is weird.
From down the hall, I can hear Grandpa's television blaring his morning news show. Jett spends most mornings with him now, making sure he takes his medications and eats breakfast before settling in for his shows. Jett's working part-time doing online stunt coordination consulting, teaching other stunt performers through video calls and recorded courses. It's less money than he made before, but it lets him be here. Lets him help with Grandpa. Lets him be present for this pregnancy and everything that comes after.
"How many weddings do we have next month?" Jett asks, sitting down with his pancakes.
"Four," I say, already exhausted thinking about it. "But Maya's handling two of them mostly on her own, and Jessica's got the other one under control. I'm just doing the Morgan wedding because the bride specifically requested me."
Maya is our new assistant. She's twenty-two, enthusiastic to the point of being slightly terrifying, and somehow has more energy than all three of my alphas combined. Jessica and I have been training her, and she's actually really good at this job. Which is great, because it means I can slow down before I have this baby and my body decides walking is no longer an option.
"You're not doing anything," Pine says, finally turning away from the stove with a plate of perfect pancakes. "You're seven months pregnant. You're going to sit in chairs and tell other people what to do."
"That's literally my job anyway," I point out.
"Then you're going to do it sitting down," Cassian says, stealing a piece of bacon from my plate. "Non-negotiable."
I eat my pancakes and let them fuss over me because honestly, arguing with three protective alphas when you're this pregnant is exhausting. They mean well. They're just also incredibly annoying about it.
Grandpa shuffles into the kitchen wearing his bathrobe and slippers. He's moving slower these days but his mind is still sharp. He takes one look at my feet and shakes his head.
"You look like you swallowed a basketball," he says, which is his version of affection.
"Good morning to you too," I say.
Jett immediately stands and gets Grandpa settled at the table with pancakes and coffee. Watching him take care of Grandpa makes something warm settle in my chest. This is what family looks like. Not perfect. Not always easy. But real and present and showing up for each other.
After breakfast, Pine and Cassian clean up while Jett helps Grandpa back to his room for his shows. My phone buzzes with a text from Jessica: Need to talk. Coming over in twenty minutes. Bringing donuts.
I show the text to Pine. "Jessica's coming over. She says she needs to talk."
"Is she okay?" Pine asks, immediately concerned because apparently my pack has adopted my best friend as an honorary pack member.
"I don't know," I say. "But she's bringing donuts, so it's either really good news or really bad news."
Twenty minutes later, Jessica arrives with a box of donuts and a slightly panicked expression. We settle on the back porch of the extension, the new deck that looks out over the yard. It's a nice day and the fresh air feels good against my skin. The kitchen is currently occupied by three alphas who are pretending not to eavesdrop while doing dishes.
"I think I'm going into heat," Jessica says, opening the donut box and immediately stress-eating a chocolate glazed.
I blink. "You're a beta."
"I know," Jessica says, taking another bite. "But my scent is changing. I'm emotional about everything. I cried at a dog food commercial yesterday. And I'm pretty sure I'm about to go into heat, which shouldn't be possible because betas don't have heats."
"Some betas do," I say slowly, working through what this means. "It's rare, but some betas develop omega characteristics as they get older. Usually triggered by meeting the right alpha or being around omegas or just biology doing whatever biology wants."
