Page 153 of Pack Plus One

A warmth spreads through my chest at his words, chasing away the last of my anxiety. “The point is?—”

“The point is,” Liam interjects, his voice steady despite the emotion swirling around him, “that we love you too. Individually and collectively.”

“With certainty,” Mason adds.

“What they said.” Caleb grins, his hand finding the nape of my neck in a gesture that’s become familiar.

I’m not prepared for the wave of emotion that washes over me, tears spilling down my cheeks before I can stop them. “I’m not crying,” I insist again, even as Caleb’s thumb gently wipes away the evidence to the contrary. “It’s just... a lot. In a good way.”

“We know,” Liam says softly.

And they do know, that’s the miracle of it. They understand me. They see all of me, not just the parts that fit some predetermined omega mold.

Caleb pulls me closer, pressing his lips to my temple. “No pressure,” he murmurs. “About the bonding. We can wait.”

“Until you’re ready,” Liam agrees.

“Or until we’ve proven ourselves worthy,” Mason adds.

“Or until you can’t resist our collective charm any longer,” Jude suggests with a wink.

I laugh through my tears, overwhelmed by their patience, their understanding, their willingness to move at my pace. “Thank you,” I say simply, because there are no adequate words for what I’m feeling.

“For what?” Caleb whispers.

“For waiting,” I say. “For finding me. For being exactly who you are.”

29

LEAH

The rest of the evening unfolds with a new lightness. The guys gather snacks and we pile onto the couch for a movie marathon. No one mentions the words we exchanged earlier, but I feel them in every casual touch, every shared smile, every knowing glance.

As the credits roll on the third film, I reluctantly check the time.

“Stay,” Caleb says, his fingers tangling with mine as I fumble with the hem of his sweater. “Stay tonight.”

The simple invitation makes my heart flutter.

Mason catches my eye from across the living room. “I planned breakfast,” he offers, his voice mild but his meaning clear. He’s been preparing for me to stay. They all have.

Jude flops dramatically against the couch. “If you leave, who’s going to referee our morning arguments? We need adult supervision.”

“You’re all adults,” I point out, but I’m already grinning.

“Debatable,” Liam murmurs, the corner of his mouth quirking upward.

I nod, the simple gesture somehow feeling momentous. “Okay.”

Jude pumps his fist victoriously. “I’ll get the wine.”

“We just had wine with dinner,” I remind him.

“This is celebratory wine. Completely different category.”

Mason stands, shaking his head. “I’ll make tea instead.”

“Tea is just sad water,” Jude protests, but he follows Mason to the kitchen anyway, their bickering fading as they go.

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