Nexus
Something settles low in my gut. A loud hum fills the bond. I don’t realise I’m smiling until Val swears softly under his breath, while Sylvan re-reads every single line like he’s checking for a hidden meaning.
But there isn’t one.
This is Revea being loud and clear. She’s choosing us. Now. In five years. For the foreseeable.
She just doesn’t know that’s forever. Not yet.
We follow Luc, watching Revea pretend she isn’t enjoying every second of being manhandled by him, as Val and Syl rush ahead.
In the nest, I watch them strip our omega naked, silencing any protests with their tongues, and I wait for the moment she melts into them.
Then click ‘Reply all’.
RE:Five-Year Plan (Updated)
Dear Ms Monroe,
We accept.
Yours, always,
Pack Vale
Epilogue: Revea
Two Months Later
Paris is beautiful this time of year. In early summer, the sky’s a clear blue, the soft breeze holding warmth and sweetness of blooming flowers… and the scent of my pack.
We arrived in Paris a couple of hours ago, on a private jet, which I didn’t see much of because I was carried into the bedroom over Kaiden’s shoulder and remained there for the duration of the short flight.
Not that I’m complaining.
Then we arrived at a beautiful French manor just a short distance from the convention. I don’t even want to think about how much it costs to stay here for just a weekend.
Sylvan has taken great care in planning most of the trip. For the past few weeks, he’s been sharing his detailed spreadsheet with me, asking for my opinion and feedback almost every night, except for the surprise manor.
Probably because I’m still living with them. And I’ve stopped using the word ‘temporary’.
It’s just… happened.
More of my things started being moved in, more omega-friendly furniture, and the nest became our permanent sleeping arrangement.
I’ve even introduced them to my parents over video call, much to my mother’s absolute delight. Didn’t take my dads long to warm up when they began talking about their security firm.
“They’ve only got two guys on the doors?” Luc murmurs as we approach the grand building.
I sigh. Part of me knew this would happen when I asked them to attend. Thankfully, they decided not to wear their uniforms.
“And no perimeter guards,” Val adds, scanning the roads.
“Which firm is securing the event, Syl?” Kaiden asks. His large hand rests on my lower back, guiding me forward.
“Hexa Sécurité Événementielle.”
I turn to stare at Sylvan and his perfect French accent as we walk up the steps, but he’s too busy studying the street to notice.
