I know without a doubt they mean it. And for the first time in years, so do I.
Espie
Lex flicks a switch as he makes his way to the kitchen. The smart glass surrounding our nest clears and the first light of morning spills across the patio, gold bleeding into soft pink and that pale, clear blue that only lasts a few minutes. It touches my skin gently, warm and direct, and I close my eyes and let it land.
Aubrey makes a low, sleepy sound beside me and presses closer into my side. I shift to pull him in tighter, breathing in the steady cedar of his scent.
Ezra is carefully rewrapping Sera's hand. She watches him with a quiet sort of tolerance, eyes half-lidded in the sunlight. She doesn't pull away anymore. I don't think I'll ever stop noticing that.
I look toward the greenhouse at the back of the yard. The glass catches the early light, and I see the basil has grown again. The sight makes something soft and full unfurl in my chest.
Kev's hand moves slowly over my arm with a warm, damp cloth. He's been doing this for a while now, working from my shoulder down in long, unhurried strokes. The cloth feels good against my skin, still sensitive from heat, and every pass of it makes me aware of how present I am in my body. Not braced. Not waiting. Just here.
I lean back into him a little and feel the quiet weight of his contentment sink into me. He pauses long enough to press a kiss to the top of my head, then continues.
“I'd like to plant a vegetable patch along the left fence. Wide enough for tomatoes and beans. Raised beds. Three or four,” I say.
“Then that's exactly what you will have,” he says. “And I can't wait to eat everything when it's grown.”
Lex appears with a small tray and settles beside me, his thigh pressing warm against mine. He picks up a piece of cheese and lifts it to my mouth.
“Good choice. That corner gets the best sun,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
He feeds me a cracker next, and when I take it our fingers brush. I turn my hand and lace our fingers together.
Ezra glances up from Sera's hand. “You need a proper potting bench in the greenhouse. Right height. With storage underneath.”
“I'll make one,” Lex says at the same time Kev says, “I'll find you one.”
They look at each other. Aubrey's soft laugh rumbles against my shoulder. Even Sera's mouth curves.
They are all inside me. Aubrey's warmth closest, Sera's presence still learning its shape, Kev steady and deep, Lex quiet and thoughtful, Ezra already planning three steps ahead. Every bond sits inside me, distinct and alive. I'm full in a way that has nothing to do with heat and everything to do with them.
My old fear has gone quiet.
Kev leans in to kiss me. When we part, Lex is watching with a small, pleased smile. Ezra looks quietly satisfied. Sera's eyes are on us too, something soft and complicated in her gaze.
Aubrey pulls me against him. “It's far too early to be thinking about vegetables. Go to sleep, omega, and we'll plan the potting bench later. Right after a bath. And dinner. And more sleep.”
I press my face into his neck and settle. My alphas curl around us. The sun climbs slow and warm over the garden, and one by one, we sleep.
Aubrey
I don't know how much time has passed. It doesn't matter. My heat has broken. The sweat on my skin has gone cool, and the ache that lived in my pelvis has dispersed. Everything in me has settled. I am resting with my back against Kev's chest and Sera's arm is across my waist and her bond is present in my sternum, Kev's alongside it, both of them permanent and mine.
I had good alphas once. Thomas, Matteo, Liam. They were kind and funny and they held me through every heat with their hands and their scents and their patience, and they never made me feel small for needing it. I carry them with me. I always will.
I thought they were a once-in-a-lifetime thing. I thought the best had already happened.
Espie laughs at something Lex said. I don't know what it was. The sound of her laughing is enough. She is beautiful and she is mine and she is laughing, unguarded, and that is everything I wanted for her.
Ezra has the tray of food again. He is moving through the nest, passing out water bottles. He hands Kev a glass and Kev drinks half and presses the other half to my mouth and I drink. The water is cold and I'm thirsty.
“More, please,” I say.
Kev pours another glass. I drink the whole thing and eat three strawberries from Ezra's hand and the hollow that heat leaves behind starts to fill in.
Sera has her head on Kev's shoulder and her bandaged hand resting in her lap. The corner of her mouth moves. Not quite a smile. Close enough. She turns her palm up and laces her fingersthrough mine. Her bond hums steady where it lives under my sternum. Kev's does the same from behind me. Each bond distinct — Espie the warmest, Sera newest and still settling, Kev calm and steady, Lex carrying an edge of wonder, Ezra already cataloguing. All of them real. All of them mine.
