“Always,” Beau said simply. “That’s what pack means.”
“Though I’m buying a scarf,” Silas said, touching his claiming bite. “Not because I’m ashamed, but because that old beta at the hardware store would not stop staring at my neck. It was getting weird.”
“Everyone’s going to stare for a while,” Dane said. “Fresh claiming bites are obvious. Give it a few weeks, they’ll fade to scars, and people will stop noticing.”
“I don’t want them to fade,” I said suddenly. The words surprised even me. “I want visible proof that I’m yours and you’re mine. I want everyone to see the bites and know we chose each other.”
“That’s incredibly possessive for an omega,” Silas observed, but he was smiling.
“I’m an incredibly possessive omega,” I confirmed. “I claimed you back, remember? That means you’re mine as much as I’m yours.”
“Damn right we are,” Beau agreed. “And I’m fine with everyone knowing it.”
We drove back to the house in comfortable silence, processing the morning’s unexpected acceptance. Through the bonds, I could feel everyone’s relief. Could feel how much we’d all been dreading negative reactions, how much the positive response meant.
“So what now?” Silas asked as we pulled into the driveway. “We’ve faced the professional response, which was positive. We’ve faced the community response, which was overwhelmingly supportive. What’s next?”
“Now we figure out how to actually live together,” Dane said. “We need to make decisions about housing, about daily logistics, about how four people merge their lives.”
“Later,” I said firmly. “Right now, I’m going to take a nap, because community acceptance was emotionally exhausting and I need to process.”
“Fair,” Silas agreed. “We can tackle the practical stuff after rest.”
We headed inside, and I claimed the master bedroom like I’d been doing for the past few days. The nest was still there, still carrying our combined scents, and I crawled into the center of it with a sense of coming home.
I felt rather than heard them follow. Beau settling on one side, Silas on the other, Dane taking up position where he could see the door. Protecting even in rest, watching over pack even when there was no threat.
“This okay?” Beau asked quietly. “All of us being here?”
“More than okay,” I said. “Perfect, actually. I feel safest when you’re all close.”
Through the bonds, I felt their satisfaction. Felt how much it meant to them to provide safety, to be wanted, to be chosen. Felt the pack settling into something that looked like permanent.
I fell asleep surrounded by cedar smoke and vanilla and leather, surrounded by pack, surrounded by proof thatsometimes the things that seem too much are actually exactly enough.
And for the first time in five years, I felt like I was exactly where I belonged.
Chapter 22
Dane
The spreadsheet was organized perfectly. Color-coded by priority level, cross-referenced by timeline, with contingency plans built into every major decision point. I’d spent three hours building it, working through the logistics of merging four independent lives into one functional pack unit.
It was exactly the kind of operational planning that had kept my teams alive during deployments. Clear structure, defined roles, anticipated problems with prepared solutions.
It was also, apparently, exactly the wrong approach to take with Sable.
“What is this?” she asked, staring at my laptop screen where I’d pulled up the shared document. We were in the safe house kitchen, morning coffee finished, everyone theoretically ready to discuss practical matters like housing and daily logistics.
“A coordination plan for pack integration,” I said, not seeing the problem yet. “I’ve outlined the major decision points we need to address. Living arrangements, financial integration,work schedule coordination, emergency protocols, heat cycle planning.”
“Heat cycle planning,” she repeated, her voice going flat in a way that through the bond felt like ice water. “You made a spreadsheet for my heats?”
“For all of us. Yours, predictably, require more coordination given the biological component, but I’ve also built in protocols for managing work conflicts, ensuring adequate coverage for emergency response positions, and maintaining professional boundaries when needed.”
Silas and Beau exchanged glances across the table. Through the bonds, I felt their concern, their recognition that I’d somehow stepped wrong without understanding how.
“Dane.” Sable set her coffee mug down with careful precision. “Can you explain to me, in your own words, what you think you’re doing right now?”
