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“Was my omega too much?”
I lean in and kiss the tip of her nose. “Your omega was perfect. I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Her small hand comes up to cup my cheek, thumb brushing gently over my skin. “I love you,” she says, simple and sure.
“I know,” I whisper, smiling against her palm. “I love you too.”
She smiles back, eyes sparkling with that dazzling spark I fell so hard for. “I know.”
Our quiet conversation wakes Leith. He stirs behind me, then pulls both of us closer with one strong arm. He presses a slow kiss to the back of my neck, then leans over me to kiss Cammie deeply.
“Hey, Twenty-A,” he murmurs against her lips.
She laughs softly. “You can’t keep calling me that, Viking.”
Leith huffs a rare laugh. “No… you haven’t been Twenty-A for a long time.”
She tilts her head. “What am I then?”
“Mine,” he says, simple and rough.
I smile and add, “Ours.”
From the other side of Cammie, Piers begins to stir. Then Beck.
She turns her head, still safely locked in Leith’s and my hold.
Piers’ hungry eyes rake over her. “You’re back.”
“All me again.”
Beck shoves Piers out of the way and leans in to kiss her soundly. Piers grumbles, “She’s my omega too.”
“I found her,” Beck says smugly.
Leith chuckles. “I think I’m the one that found her.”
“Yeah, but you let her get away,” Beck fires back.
Leith’s face flickers with that old guilt. I take his hand, squeezing it gently. Cammie sits up a little, still nestled between us.
“That’s my fault,” she says softly. “I knew I wanted you both and I didn’t go for it.”
I blink at her. “You knew?”
“Immediately.” She brushes her thumb over my cheek. “I should have tried harder. Texted you more. I’m usually better at trusting my instincts and going for what I want.”
Piers’ voice is warm. “What are your instincts telling you now?”
She grins. “Shower. Food. Foot rubs. In that order.”
We ate whatever we could scrounge from the kitchen. Cold cuts, fruit, leftover pasta, anything that didn’t require actual cooking. We’re sprawled in one of the many sitting rooms. The furniture here isn’t nearly as comfortable as the nest, but we’ve made it work. Cammie is lying with her back against my chest. Her feet rest in Beck’s lap while he massages them with lotion, thumbs working slow circles into her arches. Leith sits on the floor between my legs, his back against my shins, one of my hands idly playing with his hair.
Piers is pacing near the window, grumbling. “We’re fixing this house. Proper couches. Big enough for all of us. This antique bullshit is ridiculous.”
Cammie hums contentedly against me, clearly not bothered by the current arrangement.
I press a kiss to the top of her head. “You said you should have trusted your instincts on Leith and me. What else are they telling you?”
