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Yes, Vae, because shoes are a far superior alternative to socks.

My neck heats with embarrassment. I’m just waiting for Idril to start laughing at my repeated fuck-ups, when she gasps, eyes brightening and expression lifting with genuine joy.

“The white Converse… those were a gift? From you?”

I clear my throat, nodding sheepishly as the heat in my neck starts creeping into my cheeks. When her smile widens into a genuine grin, and her eyes fill with gratitude, my lungs squeeze so tight I struggle to breathe.

“Thank you,” she whispers, and there’s so much genuine gratitude in her tone, I honestly want the floor to open up and swallow me whole. I literally helped Alpha Command this female into a Fatesdamned seizure, but here she is, two days later, thanking me for a fucking fifty dollar pair of shoes.

Unironically.

What the hell do I do now?

My Alpha speaks up, because apparently this asshole just has all the answers.

More shoes, shithead. More pretty things. More gifts mean more smiles. Idiot.

Idril’s looking at me expectantly, and I barely get my shit together enough to respond.

“You’re ah—you’re welcome.”

I should leave. Why aren’t I leaving?

“So you’re feeling better then? There’s no, ah… lasting effects? Is your heart okay? Can you breathe alright? No more fever?”

She sits back on her heels and looks up at me, head cocked like she’s searching for something. Her perusal feels intimate, but I try to be patient as she collects her thoughts.

When she answers, she does so slowly, choosing each word carefully.

“I’m much better. Having Soren helps a lot. So did the blankets. He said you brought them, so again, thank you.”

She gives me a small smile, but it’s not like the last one. This one is restrained and doesn’t even reach her eyes. Something in my chest burns like it’s fucking screaming, and right now, I would do anything—fucking anything—to have that smile from before back and aimed at me.

I want to rewind time. Go back to when a single delighted expression made me feel like a god. How in the Fates can one Omega affect me so thoroughly?

More smiles, my Alpha grumbles, and for once we’re on the same page sans insults. I can’t even argue because I get it. I want every single one of her smiles. I want to own them. Hoard them like treasure.

I want⁠—

I want⁠—

I want… her.

It’s like a door’s been thrown open and I’m seeing the sun for the first time in centuries. I’m struck with a realization that hits me so hard I physically stumble back a step.

I don’t want to hate Idril anymore.

I don’t want to hurt her. I don’t want to go back to convincing myself over and over that she’s lying.

I don’t want her broken or afraid. I don’t want to see her tears, or hear her screams ever fucking again.

I want to see her smile. I want to hear her beautiful, tinkling laugh. And I want her to do it often and freely, with her whole chest. I want to see the kind of woman she’ll become when she’s not constantly broken down, on edge, and afraid.

I want her to be confident. Strong. Healthy and happy.

And I want to be there for all of it.

Fates help me, but I do. The desire is a living, breathing ache expanding and burrowing into my soul and refusing to leave. Or maybe it’s always been there, and I’m finally acknowledging it for the first time. And by the gods… It feels amazing.