Page 76 of Bound By Song

“I always wanted to build a blanket fort when I was younger but I was never allowed.”

“Well, you’re allowed now. In fact, I absolutely insist on it. I’ll help you. By the time we’re done, it will be fit for a king and queen!”

“What about the others?” She smiles now, a soft, hopeful, almost teasing thing and I wink back.

“Those peasants will be banished outside and will have to wait on us, hand, foot and finger!”

Her laugh is literal music to my ears. I could write songs about it, if I were the songwriter of the band.

Maybe I should try?

We keep moving down the aisles, me pulling down pillows and blankets, and Eviana picking through them with slow deliberation. Every now and then, I crack a joke to keep her distracted, to keep the mood light, but I’m watching her closely. I see how she’s starting to relax, just a little. It’s like every soft pillow we pick up, every blanket she touches, is pulling her out of her shell, inch by inch.

She favours pastel colours and fluffy textures over fleeces and velvets, and so I make a mental note to grab her some fuzzy socks too. She needs warmer, softer clothes.

When we reach the shelves with snacks and water, I pick up large packs of energy drinks and protein bars and toss them into the cart. “What do you think?” I ask, holding up a bag of chips. “For thoselongomega nights?”

Eviana looks at me, almost surprised, and for a brief moment, the anxiety seems to ease off her shoulders. She lets out a breath. “I’m not sure if I can eat all that.”

“Trust me,” I reply with a wink, “You’ll need it. And we’ll be around to help. I’m a growing boy, don’t you know?”

She huffs a laugh, a tiny reluctant thing, but it still lights me up inside. Though the blush on her cheeks does more…

We keep going, and by the time we’re done, six trollies are piled high with all sorts of things – soft towels, fluffy blankets, pillows, cushions, snacks, energy drinks, fairy lights. Even a few ridiculous stuffed animals. So many sets of waterproof sheets. And a few surprises she never noticed us adding, to make her the perfect nest. We even grabbed fluffy socks, and I snuck in a few super soft oversized jumpers which she seems to favour, and a couple of cashmere lounge sets.

As we head to the checkout, I glance at her, and there’s a quiet satisfaction in her eyes. She’s still holding back, still fighting her instincts, but she’s come a long way today.

And I’m proud of her. Proud of the fact that, for the first time, she’s letting herself have what she needs – what shedeserves. Now we just need to work on letting herself have what she wants.

EVIANA

As we stand in line at the checkout, I feel like I’m on the edge of something I can’t quite grasp. My mind is spinning, my body still tense, but the act of picking out soft things – pillows, blankets – feels like a betrayal to everything I’ve forced myself to be for so long.

I don’t need this. I neverneededany of it.

But I can’t ignore the pull inside me, the way the soft fabrics make my body relax just a little. The way the pillows feel in my hands. I want towantthis, but I don’t know how to. Or maybe I already want this, but feel guilty for it.

My mind’s a mess but Blaise, bless his heart, keeps talking. It’s more to himself than to me but his energy is contagious – ridiculous and somehow comforting all at once. He’s so there,so present. He’s not trying to force me to feel anything. He’s just...helping me find my way through this storm.

I glance at the pile of things in the cart – blankets, towels, food, snacks – and for a moment, I freeze.

It’s too much. What am I doing? Why am I letting myself get swept up in this?

I close my eyes for a second, trying to steady myself.

This is fine. I’mallowedto have this. Eva said so. It’snottoo much. This is probably the bare minimum for an omega. I’m sure omegas collect this stuff over years, I’m just catching up. What’s that saying? Making up for lost time?

Yeah, that’s what this feels like. I’ve denied my omega for so long, that now that we’ve finally acknowledged her, we have a lot of making up to do.

This is acceptable. Accepted. The right thing to do.

But the words ring hollow, the guilt still heavy on my chest.

“Eviana.” Blaise’s voice is warm as he reaches over, grabbing a few more things from the cart. His energy is like a rope thrown to me, and I grab onto it. “Look at us. We’re getting everything youneed. Everything youdeserve, honeybee. We’ve got snacks, drinks, pillows, the fluffiest blankets you can imagine. We’re gonna turn that house into a home.”

His words settle over me, like a warm blanket, and I realise, maybe for the first time, that he’s right. Grams’ house isn’t a home, it never was, but maybe it’s time to make it one.

We finally reach the checkout counter, and I let out a deep breath, trying to ignore the pounding of my heart. The cashier, a beta girl with dark hair and a wide smile, looks up from the register as we approach, her eyes widening at the sight of the guys.

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