Graham takes his glasses off and wipes them with the corner of the sheet. “I don’t get why you didn’t just tell us.”
Saint huffs a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “I probably should have. My alpha’s been on me about it for years.”
Graham’s eyes go wide. “Wait, your alphatalksto you?”
I tilt my head. “Yours doesn’t?”
Graham shakes his head. “No, never. Silas?”
Silas shakes his head, too.
“Are you saying, your omega talks to you, little bird?”
“All the time.” I pause, putting my finger to my chin. “Well, not so much recently, but before she could get pretty mouthy.”
“My alpha has always been mouthy, though he’s mostly just been snarling at me lately.”
Graham launches from the bed and wraps both Saint and me in his long arms. Saint goes rigid for exactly half a second. Then he puts his arm around Graham.
“Alphas and omegas only talk when they are unhappy.”
“How do you know this?” I ask.
“Beautiful, I know everything, remember?”
I snicker. I know it’s not true, but it seems like it most of the time. “Seriously, how do you know?”
He shrugs. “There’s a decent amount of research about it. When your omega talks to you, it means you aren’t giving her something she needs.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s the problem. She needs everything. All the time.”
Silas pulls me from Graham’s arms. “But you never give into her requests. You never just snuggle in your nest. Aside from donuts on Wednesday, you limit your sweets. And you were severely touch starved when we met you.”
Graham nods solemnly. “It’s probably why your heats have been so intense. Denying your alpha or omega can lead to severe depression and illness.”
I swallow. I had thought I was tougher than other omegas by not giving into my omega’s demands. But really, I was causing myself harm.
“What about Saint?”
Graham pushes his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose. “That’s simple. It started because he refused to be a full member of the pack. And it continued when he rejected you.”
“I have an appointment with a counselor,” Saint says in a rush. “My alpha wanted me to tell you last night, but—"
My heart melts.
“I’m proud of you,” I whisper.
He ducks his head. I tilt his chin until he’s looking at me again with those warm, amber eyes. Saint has been through some terrible things in the past year, but what if denying his alpha made it all worse for him?
“Will you allow the pack to help you? I don’t want you to suffer anymore.” Tears cloud my vision. Fucking pre-heat hormones have no sense of timing. Saint pushes in tighter.
“Don’t cry, princess.” A purr starts low in his chest.
But I can’t stop. “I don’t want you hurting like this anymore,” I sob.
He cups my face in his large, warm hand. I press my cheek into his palm.
“I love you, Saint.”
