Then Cliff laughs. Loud and genuine and completely unguarded, the sound of it rolling through the wall and into the dining room like something warm spilling over, and it's so unexpected and so purely him that it breaks the moment open in the best possible way.
Adam turns back to me with his mouth already pulling into a grin. "That'll be Raff," he says.
"That is absolutely Raff," Perrin's voice carries through the house, followed immediately by the sound of glass crunching.
"It was already cracked," Raff says, not sounding remotely sorry about it.
"It wasnotalready cracked," Perrin’s voice rises.
"It was cracked when I picked it up."
"Rafferty."
"Slightly cracked."
Odette closes her eyes for exactly two seconds, then she downs the last of her wine and sets the glass down with a decisive click. "Thirty-two years," she says to no one in particular. "I have been cleaning up after that child for thirty-two years."
She pushes back from her chair and stands, drawing herself up to her full six feet.
"Do not touch anything!" she yells. “I’ll get the broom.”
Something else breaks, and there’s a long pause, before Cliff grumbles, "Sorry.”
Adam presses his lips together, but I don't even try.
A laugh tears out of me. I place my hand over my full belly, tipping my head back.
Adam abandons all pretense of composure a half secondlater, dropping his forehead to the table with his shoulders shaking.
The kitchen has descended into what sounds like a full military operation, with Odette issuing quick instructions. Perrin apologizes in a tone that suggests he's not entirely sure what he's apologizing for, as both alphas talk over one another.
"They're a mess." I wipe the tears out of my eyes.
Adam nods, smiling at me with such a warm, sweet expression.
I let out a soft sigh as I admire the omega.
The big windows behind him frame the lush backyard filled with the evening light.
Sitting in front of it, Adam looks like something out of a painting. He's handsome in a way that sneaks up on you. Not the immediate, overwhelming impact of Cliff, or the sharp, tattooed intensity of Raff. Just quietly, genuinely handsome that gets more apparent the longer you look.
He and Perrin obviously look a lot alike.
They have the same warm honey-brown eyes, the same sharp cheekbones, and the same easy way of occupying a room. But side by side, the differences are as clear as the similarities.
Perrin looks like someone built for the world.
Adam looks like someone the world should be more careful with.
"Come on." Adam pushes back from his chair and comes around the table, stopping beside me with his hand extended. "The sun's about to set, and I refuse to miss it."
I look up at him, at his outstretched hand and his warm eyes and the last of the evening light catching the side of his face through the window, and something in my chest is so full it almost hurts.
I'm happy.
Like completely, almost embarrassingly happy, in a way that still catches me off guard sometimes because I went so long without it that I forgot it was supposed to feel like this. Like warmth that starts in your chest and works its way outward until it's sitting in your fingertips.
My bond hums with a soft pulse of Cliff’s own contentment, and then something brighter as he catches the edges of what I'm feeling. His happiness doubles, his emotions feeding mine feeding his, a quiet loop of it moving through our bond like a current.
