"The bond won't change how we see you," Harper added, his arm tightening around me, pulling me back against his broad chest until I could feel his heartbeat against my spine—slow and steady, the rhythm of absolute certainty. "It'll just make official what we already know. That you're ours, and we're yours, and nothing in this world or the next is going to change that."
"I spent years believing I didn't deserve to live," Silas said quietly, his voice rough but steady, each word deliberate and hard-won. His thumb traced circles on my hip, the touch grounding him as much as me. "That I was broken beyondrepair. Then I met you, and you looked at me like I was whole. Like I was worth something." His breath caught, his chest hitching against Remy's back. "The bond isn't going to change that, Artemis. It's just going to make it permanent. And I can't think of anything I want more."
The tears came then, silent and warm, tracking down my cheeks into the pillows. But they weren't sad tears—they were the kind that came from being too full, from having more love than your body knew how to contain.
"I love you," I whispered, the words slipping out on a shaky breath, feeling sacred in the darkness. "All of you. So much it terrifies me."
"Good terror or bad terror?" Remy asked, his hand finding mine in the darkness, his fingers interlacing with mine and squeezing gently. I could feel his pulse thrumming against my wrist, quick and alive, matching the rhythm of my own racing heart.
"The best kind," I said, lacing my fingers through his, holding on tight like he might float away if I let go. My voice was steadier now, the fear receding in the face of their certainty. "The kind that means it matters. The kind that means I have something worth being afraid to lose."
"You won't lose us," Harper promised, his lips brushing my temple, warm and soft, lingering there like a benediction. His arm was a solid weight across my body, anchoring me to this moment, to this nest, to them. His voice dropped even lower, rough with emotion. "Not ever."
"Good." I sniffed, wiping my eyes with the back of my free hand, feeling the wetness smear across my skin. I blinked hard, trying to compose myself. "Because you're all stuck with me now. No returns, no exchanges. You knew what you were getting into."
"A stubborn, sharp-tongued Omega who argues with everyone and keeps a nine-foot alligator as a pet?" Remy pretended to consider this, tapping his chin thoughtfully, his brow furrowed in mock-deep thought. "Yeah, we knew exactly what we were getting into."
"Gumbo is not a pet. He's family. There's a difference." I lifted my chin, my tone brooking no argument on this particular point.
"The difference being that pets don't eat uninvited guests?" Remy's eyebrows climbed toward his hairline, his lips twitching with barely suppressed amusement.
"Exactly. See? You're learning." I patted his cheek with exaggerated approval, making him laugh and catch my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm.
Silas's chest rumbled with a quiet laugh—rare and precious, a sound I was still learning to coax out of him. His pale eyes crinkled at the corners, softening his usually stoic face. "She's got you there."
"Everyone's got me today," Remy complained, throwing his free arm dramatically across his forehead, but he was smiling, his dimples cutting deep grooves in his cheeks. "This is a very hostile nest environment."
"You love it," I told him, poking his ribs and making him squirm.
"I love you," he corrected, catching my hand and stilling it against his chest, his voice going soft and sincere, the humor draining away into something real. His amber eyes held mine, no masks, no performance. "All of you. Even when you gang up on me."
"Especially when we gang up on you," Harper rumbled, his voice vibrating through my back where I pressed against him. Remy laughed—bright and warm, filling the small room like sunlight, his whole body shaking with the joy of it.
We fell asleep like that—tangled together in our nest, hearts beating in sync, the moon watching over us through the window. Tomorrow, the bonding would begin. Tomorrow, everything would change. Tonight, we had this. Four people who'd found each other against all odds, wrapped in warmth and love and the wild magic of the bayou.
It was more than enough.
It was everything.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Artemis
The distillery was quiet as the sunlight from the sunset creeped through the high windows. Harper had closed early for this—sent everyone home, locked the doors, created a space just for us. I stood in the middle of the tasting room, surrounded by barrels of aging whiskey and the rich, warm scent that I'd come to associate with him. My heart was beating so fast I could feel it in my throat, in my fingertips, in the hollow space between my ribs.
Today, I would bond with him. Make it permanent.
"You're nervous." His voice came from behind me, low and warm, and I felt his hands settle on my shoulders—massive and gentle, his thumbs rubbing slow circles that worked out tension I hadn't realized I was carrying.
"A little," I admitted, leaning back into his chest. He was solid behind me, a wall of muscle and warmth, his heartbeat steady against my spine. "Not about you. Never about you. Just... it's big. It's forever."
"It's forever," he agreed, pressing his lips to my temple, the faint scruff along his jaw scratching against my skin in a way that made goosebumps prickle down my neck. "And if you're not ready?—"
"I'm ready." I turned in his arms, craning my neck to look up at him. God, he was beautiful. Rough-hewn and weathered, gray at his temples, lines carved around his eyes from years of squinting into the sun. "I've been ready since you stood behind that counter looking at me like I was something precious and terrifying, and you gave me space instead of crowding me."
Something flickered in his gray eyes as his hands came up to cup my face, calloused palms warm against my cheeks, his thumbs tracing the line of my cheekbones with a tenderness that made my chest ache.
"I love you," he said, his voice dropping low, rough around the edges like he had to drag the words out from somewhere they'd been locked away. "I've loved you since you walked into my distillery. I'll love you until I die, and probably after that too."
