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“Then they spend the rest of their lives hating themselves for their actions.”

She holds my gaze, bright pale blue as clear as a cloudless sky and full of trust, and Fates… my brothers are the biggest idiots in the world. How could they have ever fucked things up with her so badly?

I have no empathy for them. No sympathy, either. Both are reserved for Idril.

A knock at the door makes me growl. I glare at it until another knock comes—louder, and accompanied by a female’s voice—a member of our staff.

“I have clothing for the Omega!”

Soren lifts a brow, and after my nod, crosses the room and opens the door. A Beta staff member greets us with a wide smile. Behind her, two more Betas wait, arms laden with dozens of shopping bags.

“What’s all this?” I ask.

“I was told these bags are for the Omega,” the Beta answers. She raises a thick eyebrow in question when both Soren and I just stand here stupidly because… what the fuck?

“Where should we put it?”

“Uh—in the closet, I guess,” I answer, and we both step back, giving the group room to slip in and scurry over to the walk-in. Idril watches the procession with utter bafflement.

“Those aren’t mine,” she whispers, like she’s worried I’ll think she went on a middle-of-the-night shopping spree while I was asleep. The staff make quick work of offloading their bags and are almost at the door when I stop the Beta female with a raised hand.

“Where did all this come from?”

Her brow furrows in confusion. “Vaelenor.”

All three Betas leave, and I shut the door behind them, twisting the lock for good measure. Planting my fists on my hips, I throw my head back and groan out loud.

Wonderful.

“Did she say Vaelenor got all this?” Idril asks in a tone full of disbelief. She inches toward the closest—and bags—but stops before she gets too close. Like she can’t quite believe any of it might actually be for her.

“Why, exactly, would Vaelenor buy our Mate clothing?” Soren sounds indignant, and after the way Vae and Dax have treated Idril, I can’t blame him.

“He feels bad,” I explain with a sigh. The thought of dealing with Vae’s antics sounds exhausting. I might be much better physically, but I’m still not a hundred percent; regardless, I’d rather go on back-to-back missions than navigate Vaelenor’s social ineptitude.

“He… feels bad?”

I gesture toward what must be thousands of dollars of who the hell knows what.

“Yup. This is what he does when he fucks up—hyper-focuses and overcompensates. Though in his defense, there’s not really a way for him to over-apologize. I should have seen this coming, honestly. This is on me.”

“He feels bad?” Idril walks up to stand next to me, frowning at all the bags.

“Yup. And instead of apologizing and trying to earn your forgiveness, he’s apparently decided that the best way to prove how sorry he is is by⁠—”

“Buying our Omega racy lingerie?” Soren snarls, lifting a lace thong and a matching bra from an expensive-looking black bag.

“Oh my gosh,” Idril gasps, face turning bright red. She reaches out and snatches the lingerie. She releases a strangled noise and whips the designer set behind her back in an attempt to hide it.

“You know we’re both still imagining you in those, right, Little Mate?” Soren smirks.

“You are not,” she replies hotly, daring him to contradict her.

I stalk closer, coming up behind her and snatching the underwear out of her hands. I hold them up, eyeing them appraisingly.

“Oh, we absolutely are,” I tease. Despite my tone, I’m not actually joking. Picturing my little Omega dressed in lingerie is enough to make me hard instantly. Especially knowing no one else would know she’s wearing it except Soren and me.

Well… and Vaelenor, apparently.