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Not empty - just the kind of post-orgy still that makes you rethink your life choices and maybe invest in a new couch.
I’m draped across the velvet cushions like a very well-loved blanket. I don’thurt, exactly, but my body has been through some things.
Emotionally. Spiritually.
Several positions that defied both physics and common sense.
My skin smells like us.Allof us. Like citrus and smoke and salt and the kind of slick that probably violates at least three public health codes. I’m exhausted, purring, and suspiciously close to feral.
Theo’s curled up at my feet like a golden retriever with a masters in foreplay. He’s stroking my calf like it might vanish if he stops. His mark above my heart still tingles - warm, steady, like a heartbeat I didn’t know I needed.
Kai is spooning me from behind with all the subtlety of a human space heater who’s way too proud of himself. His hand is splayed over my belly like he’s guarding a treasure chest, or possibly just keeping me from escaping round two.
Ash is kneeling on the floor, head resting on my hip like I’m his favorite pillow. Occasionally, he presses a kiss to the inside of my thigh.
It’s gentle. Worshipful. Like he’s still not entirely sure I’m real and not some fever dream with tits and a mouth on her.
Lucian has my head in his lap, one hand running through my hair with methodical, terrifying tenderness. He looks like a man who just survived an emotional apocalypse and now isn’t sure whether to confess his love or commit light murder.
His mark throbs faintly at my throat - an anchor, a brand, a promise.
The bonds shimmer in the air between us: Ash’s wild heat, Theo’s golden calm, Kai’s feral spark, Lucian’s storm.
Four Alphas. One Omega.
One pack.
Mine.
"Still breathing, Bambi?" Kai murmurs into my hair, voice all honey and mischief.
“Barely,” I croak.
“Hot.”
“Don’t make me punch you.”
“I’ll hold her up,” Ash offers, deadpan. “You aim for the ribs.”
Kai stretches. “Kinky.”
“Shut up, Reed,” Lucian says, but it’s mild, borderline affectionate in the way someone saysshut upto a sibling they’re legally required to tolerate.
Theo shifts up, his cheek now resting lightly on my thigh.
“Do you need anything, Omega?”
I tilt my head toward him, all melted and teary and stupid in love.
“Just stay.”
“Always,” he whispers, and kisses my skin like a vow.
Lucian shuffles up so that he's lay next to my head rather than on my lap and brushes his lips against my forehead. I feel his breath stutter before he pulls away.
“You’re not alone anymore,” he says, voice low. “Not ever again.”
It hits like a gut punch. A good one. The kind that rewires your nervous system and maybe makes you cry into your ginger tea.
