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“A fling with a mage?” I guess, half teasing.
“I did,” he admits, shifting uneasily in the bath and causing water to spill over the edge. “She was a wonderful woman, different from you, of course.”
“Max, it’s okay,” I assure him, placing a comforting hand on his thigh. “That was before me.”
He pulls me toward him, settling me onto his lap. “Before Seraphina, I like that,” he murmurs, leaning in for a gentle kiss.
“Please, tell me more,” I whisper, resting my head on his chest, gazing out the window at the blizzard engulfing the world.
As his hands softly trace up and down my back, he continues, “Sheena was an intriguing woman full of magic. She didn’t reveal all their secrets, but she showed me their ancient citiesbeneath the volcano. An entire hidden world lies underneath the isles. She spoke of ancient betas fighting to the point of almost annihilating themselves, resetting timelines over and over.”
“Did the mages survive all that?” I ask, fascinated.
“Somehow, yes,” he confirms, kissing my temple. I internally nickname these baby kisses and crave more. “They documented everything. They only venture into our world when they deem it safe.”
“So are they all betas then?” I ask, captivated by the mystery of mages.
Max pauses, considering my question. “Anatomically, yes, they resemble betas, but they have traits of omegas, alphas, and betas, yet simultaneously, they are distinct from all these designations. They are an enigma that even I struggle to fully comprehend.”
“You just need the right mage to let you study them,” I suggest with a yawn, feeling the warmth of the bath soothing me.
He sighs softly, a hint of resignation in his voice. “I’m afraid that opportunity might not come in my lifetime, and that’s okay. Perhaps it’s a task meant for a future scientist, one who hasn’t yet emerged.”
We settle into a comfortable silence, the water gradually losing its warmth. In the tranquility of the bath, with Max’s stories echoing in my thoughts, we simply exist. I feel a profound sense of peace and connection with him. His stories aren’t just tales, they are windows into his soul, revealing a man who’s deeply passionate about knowledge and understanding—a side of him that’s both endlessly fascinating and incredibly attractive.
CHAPTER 24
Seraphina
A cocoonof heat envelops me, almost to the point of feeling like my insides are simmering. I’d love to claim that this cozy heat rouses me from sleep, but that’s not the case. It’s the urgent call of nature, insistently pressing me to rise before I inadvertently create a messy situation.
As consciousness seeps back, I become aware of a deep, rumbling purr behind me. Its soothing vibration almost lulls me back into slumber. Groggily, I blink my eyes open, gazing up at the rustic wood slats above. Stretching languidly, I recall fragments of the previous night—a relaxing bath, Max’s gentle care as he wrapped me up, fed me while I drifted in and out of sleep, and finally brought me to this cozy retreat when he sensed I was too drowsy to protest.
Realization dawns. I’m lying in the haven they constructed for their omega. A thrill of excitement pulses through me. Is it so wrong to fantasize about being the official inhabitant of this sanctuary and to imagine that Max, Devlin, Avery, and Ashton are entirely mine?
Not wrong at all.Deep down, I know that if they ask me to be their omega, I’ll accept without an ounce of hesitation.
Above, the slats converge in a way that obscures my view. Twinkle lights, now dormant in the daylight, wind around each beam. The only indication of morning is the soft, hazy sunlight filtering through the panes flanking the special corner.
Sitting up a bit, I take in the sight of Max on one side, and Avery on the other, both totally zonked out. Their peaceful breathing adds to the calm atmosphere, while outside, the wind howls against the windows, a wild contrast to our serene little bubble.
This nest is more intimate than the bedrooms. My only comparison is a brief glimpse of the guest room, but this feels about half that size. It’s like we’re in a cozy attic, with the wind playing its symphony against the house. The room’s lined with windows, giving it an airy feel, and I can just spot a cute little railing and a sitting area.
The floor is like a huge, fluffy mattress, the softest thing ever. In one corner is a pile of blankets—Ashton’s picks—all in soothing, warm tones. There aren’t any bright colors, but I’m already planning to sprinkle in loads of green as soon as I can.
Glancing at the two guys, I nibble on my lip, feeling torn. I really need to hit the bathroom, but leaving them feels tough. Deciding to listen to my body, I carefully ease out from between them. Max’s arm does a quick cling before letting go, and Avery is just a curled up bundle facing the wall. I sneak out, stepping over their limbs like I’m in stealth mode, caught between the desire to stay or go to the bathroom.
Stepping out of the nest, I find myself in a spacious attic area. It’s mostly empty but nicely finished—like they focused all their attention on the nest and left the rest as a blank canvas. I can’t help but imagine all the decorating possibilities. The space is long, with steps at the far end near another door. The ceilings aren’t vaulted, but they are high enough that the guys won’t have to duck while walking around.
I’m thinking a cozy seating area would be great here, maybe with a TV and a gaming console. Oh, and a snack fridge—definitely a must-have.
I tiptoe across the room and open the door to a simple bathroom. After a quick pit stop, I step out and grip the railing, looking down the twisting staircase to the next floor.
I descend step by step, not quite sure where I am in the house, so I wander to the end of the hall. There’s a railing overlooking the living room below. The TV is on mute with Sawyer on the screen, clutching her hat and battling the wind.
I head down into the living room, which is empty. Drawn to the huge windows overlooking the outside, I take in the view. It’s like a scene from a fantasy—no mountains in sight, just endless snow. The snow drifts are piled high, creating a dazzling white landscape that’s almost blinding.
Blinking against the bright sun, I let the curtains fall back and glance at the TV. Someone left the remote out. I pick it up, turning the volume up just a bit. Sawyer is smiling into the camera, her voice struggling against the wind. “I suggest you all find warmth as the snow keeps falling. It’s not stopping anytime soon, and some residents reported three feet of snow. Consider this your cue to hunker down in a nest or even just your bed. This is Sawyer, signing off to find my own cozy spot.” The screen switches to another reporter, and I turn the volume back down.
