Page 184 of Pack Baby for the Silver Foxes

“I don’t...” My voice broke. “I don’t understand.”

Lincoln came up behind me. “This is our pack room. A safe room. A place for you and the babies.”

Hudson stood at my side. “And us.”

“A place to paint sometimes,” Lincoln said.

“Without feeling like you should be doing something more useful,” Hudson finished.

I turned to them.

They had heard me. Not only the dramatic parts, the pregnancy and danger and sex and scent, but the quiet little wish I had barely dared to say in Maeve’s study while Fergus committed luxury theft under a desk.

“This is mine?”

“Yes,” Hudson said.

Lincoln’s voice warmed. “Ours when we’re invited. Yours always.”

I pressed my hand to my stomach as the rings caught the light.

Two alphas who loved me. Two babies coming in months. A room where I could paint. A nest big enough for all of us.

It was everything I wanted and had somehow been placed under a skylight and left there, waiting for me to believe I was allowed to keep it.

I walked to the nest, my knees a little wobbly.

I crawled onto the blankets and sank into the scents of them. Whiskey, rain, violet, blackberry, and the faint clean smell of new cotton. The dark night made the skylight above reflect two men standing in the doorway, watching me as if they had handed me something fragile and were afraid to breathe until they knew I wanted it.

I patted the top of the nest. “I want my alphas.”

They came to me together. Just how I wanted.

Chapter 31

Lincoln

Five months later, Mary stood in the middle of the upstairs pack room, one week from her due date, wearing one of my shirts, Hudson’s socks, and a sour look on her face.

“I’m enormous,” she said.

Hudson looked up from the chair near the window, where he had been reading a medical article. “You’re not enormous.”

Mary stared at him.

I kept my mouth shut.

I'd learned many things. Among them was that when a heavily pregnant omega announced she was enormous, the correct response was rarely obvious and never quick.

Practical as ever, Hudson announced, “You’re pregnant with twins.”

“I know that, Hudson. I was present when the technician announced it and I briefly saw God.”

He bit back a smile.

Mary pursed her lips. “Don’t smile.” Then she spun to me. “Or you. I have two humans inside me trying to break my body and one more day and I'm sure they’ll succeed.”

Hudson looked at her like he hated he couldn’t help. “It won’t be long now.”