In our family, we chose to get creative with the names for our dads. Having Dad One, Dad Two, and Dad Three would get confusing fast. Pops was an obvious choice, and when Beckett went through a phase where he was obsessed with insects, Daddy gradually turned into “Daddy Bug” which stuck.Honestly, it doesn’t matter what we call them. They’re amazing, and having three dads is so much more fun than having just one.
“Freckles!” Mom throws open her arms, pulling me into a lung-constricting squeeze. She smells of home, like fresh gingerbread and brown sugar. “I’ve missed you.”
“You really didn’t need to drive all this way,” I comment as she finally releases me.
I step aside to let them all into the entryway, wanting to have a moment alone with them before we go to join the others.
“Are you kidding?” Bug purses his lips, making a sound like a deflating balloon. “If we’d let her, your mother would’ve blown all of our savings on a private jet to get here faster.”
“Finding a pack is a huge deal for an omega, Sabs,” Mom’s tone has turned solemn.
Pop’s smile turns wistful, closing the front door behind him. “I remember meeting your mom’s parents for the first time…”
“Gramps and Grandma are hardly scary,” I snicker. “And you only had to meet two parents, so I want you to be on your best behavior.”
“Us?” Bug’s eyes widen in feigned surprise. “When aren’t we on our best behavior?”
Mom sniffs. “You smell…” She smooths down my hair like she’s tidying it then tucks a strand behind my ear before her arm freezes, hovering midair. “You bonded?!”
Her shrill voice echoes around the vast foyer, and I instantly detect Adler’s fear, slicing through our connection.
“Mom…” I step back, letting my hair fall to cover my neck again. “You should probably?—”
“I knew you smelled different!” She points at me. “I could smell it as soon as I hugged you.”
“Sabrina.” Dad’s eyes darken. “Is this true? Did you bond?”
“Well…” I chew my lip, nervous stones dropping to the bottom of my gut. “I mean, technically yes. But I haven’t bonded with all of the pack yet. We’re still courting.”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen my three dads look so serious before, no trace of a smile on any of them.
“Have things changed so dramatically since our generation?” Mom sucks her teeth. “You’re supposed to court first. Get to know each other. Make a decision as to whether you’re the right fit to spend the rest of your lives together.”
My hackles rise. “You were happy for Laz when he bonded with Faye!”
“That was different,” Dad huffs. “They got to know each other first.”
Mom stomps her foot. “And they were scent matches!”
“And my alphas are my scent matches, too.” I cross my arms stubbornly, feeling like I’ve reverted back ten years to my teenage rebellion days. What is it about being around your parents that seems to send you back in time?
“Scent matches?” Pops tilts his head, a divot appearing between his eyes. “Really?”
My anger ebbs a little. “Y-yes, I think so. I mean, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before?—”
“Still, there is a right and wrong way of doing things.” Dad straightens his spine, drawing himself up to his full height. “Don’t these alphas know how to treat omegas with respect?”
“They’ve been nothing but good to me!” I groan, indignation hitting me square in the chest. “They’ve provided for me and even bought me a freaking disco ball for my nest.”
Mom throws her arms in the air in despair. “Bonding is about more than nest decorations!”
“When did this happen?” Pops take a step closer to me, gently clasping my bicep.
“A few weeks ago,” I confess.
Mom’s face falls as she shakes her head, her red, shoulder-length curls bobbing around. She’s not great at hiding her emotions, so the disappointment ebbing from her is palpable.
“I can’t believe you kept this from us,” she murmurs.
