Except he's not my alpha. Not officially. Not bonded.
Yet.
Maybe.
One more month.
He must see something in my face because his brow furrows slightly. "You okay?"
"Yeah." I force a smile. "Just overwhelmed. In a good way."
He studies me for a moment longer, then nods and steps back. "Drake's found approximately seventeen things he thinks you need. You might want to veto some of them before he bankrupts us."
I laugh and follow him back to where Drake has assembled what can only be described as apile—blankets, sheets, pillows, even a few decorative storage baskets.
"This is too much," I say.
"It's not enough," Drake counters. "Look, there's even this little LED moon lamp that—"
"No lamps," Eli says firmly. "We already have three in her room."
"But this one changes colors."
"No."
"Eli, you're crushing my dreams."
"Your dreams will survive."
I watch them bicker, warmth spreading through my chest despite the persistent tightness that's been there since I woke up.
The saleswoman helps us load everything into bags—so many bags—and Drake cheerfully hands over his card without even looking at the total.
"You're spoiling me," I murmur as we carry everything to the car.
"Good," he says. "You should be spoiled."
Ragon opens the trunk, starts arranging bags with practiced efficiency. "This is what pack does, Vee. We take care of our own."
Our own.
There's that phrase again.
Eli slides into the back seat beside me, a soft smile on his face. "When we get home, we'll help you set it all up. Make your nest exactly how you want it."
"You don't have to—"
"We want to," all three of them say in unison.
I laugh despite the weird ache in my chest, despite the way something feels off even though nothing's wrong.
The drive home is quiet. Comfortable. Drake hums along to the radio. Eli's hand finds mine in the back seat, fingers lacing together. Ragon drives with his usual focused calm.
It's perfect.
My heart flutters with the terrifying hope that they're about to ask to bond me in a whole month early? My fingers drift unconsciously to the unmarked skin at the curve of my neck, and I swallow hard against the sudden dryness in my throat, my breathing quickening with excited hope.
“Vee,” Ragon says. “Later tonight, we all need to sit down and talk.”
