Graham’s.
The skin is still tender, the mark darker, newer. I brush it lightly, and the response is immediately warm and bright. It hums with his adoration for me. It floods through me so fast I have to brace my hand against the counter. Everything he feels for me is pure. Open and unfiltered. Graham’s love doesn’t question itself. Doesn’t hold back. Doesn’t second guess.
A small, breathless laugh slips from my lips. Of course that’s what he feels like. My chest squeezes, not from pain, but from how much of him there is. How willingly he gives it.
I close my eyes for a second, letting it wash through me before my hand moves again to the other side.
Saint’s.
I hesitate. Just for a heartbeat. Not because I’m unsure. Because I’m not. But because I already know this one is going to undo me.
My fingers press gently against the mark.
And, oh.
It’s deeper than I expected. Not loud or sharp. But deep. Like his feelings for me have been buried and they finally surfaced. A treasure he’s placed, deliberately, into my hands.
Precious.
The word forms before I can stop it.
His love is not fragile. Not delicate. It’s sacred. To him, I’m not just wanted. Not just claimed.
I’m chosen.
I press my palm flat against my chest, trying to steady the sudden rush of it. Of all of them. The way the bonds overlap and blend and settle.
We didn’t get the night we planned. The slow build. The anticipation. The space to feel every second of it the way we thought we would. But I remember.
Not everything. The heat blurred so much of it. It turned time into something slippery and strange. But I rememberthose moments.The shift of emotions. The snap of our connection. The way each bond locked into place. The way it felt like something… aligned.
I open my eyes, meeting my own reflection. My lips part slightly, my fingers still resting over Saint’s mark.
I was so afraid of heat. Of losing control. Of the pain. Of being too much. Instead, I got them. All of them. I was searching for a way to navigate the worst part of being an omega and discovered something bigger. Complete love for my alphas. The reverence and care they give to me.
My gaze softens as I take in the woman staring back at me. Heat didn’t wreck me. It will never wreck me. Because I’m whole. Partnered and connected forever with alphas who protect me. Care for me. Love me.
A quiet knock sounds at the door, followed by the soft creakof it opening.
“Little bird?”
My heart lifts immediately. I turn, already moving toward him. “I’m coming,” I say.
The door swings open wider, and there he is. Silas, leaning against the frame, loose navy sweats slung low on his hips, hair still damp from the shower, beard slightly overgrown from three days in the nest.
For a second, I just look at him. Then I step forward and walk straight into his arms. They close around me instantly.
“I missed you,” he murmurs into my hair. Then, quieter, almost amused, “How is that even possible?”
I laugh softly, pressing my cheek to his chest. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
He huffs, squeezing me once before loosening his hold just enough to guide me back toward the bedroom.
When we step into the nest, I see the guys have been busy while I showered. Clean sheets. Fresh comforter. The windows cracked just enough to let in soft afternoon light. The room smells like us, but calmer now.
Graham is already stretched out on the bed, glasses pushed high on the bridge of his nose, his attention fixed on his laptop. I slip from Silas’s arms and climb onto the bed beside him, leaning in to press a kiss to the inked equation along his shoulder.
“What are you reading?” I ask.
