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The honesty in his voice makes my chest tight with emotion. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"God, no," Felix says immediately, his hand cupping my cheek. "Belle, this is the most incredible thing that's ever happened to me. To all of us. It's just... overwhelming. In the best possible way."

I can smell the truth of his words in his scent, the way cedar and contentment mix with something deeper that might be awe. "Then why nervous?"

"Because I want this to be perfect for you," Felix says simply. "Because Marcus is a hard act to follow, and I want my claiming of you to be everything you need it to be."

The vulnerability in his admission makes me want to wrap him in my arms and never let go. This is Felix at his core—theartist who sees beauty in everything, who wants to create perfect moments and meaningful experiences.

"Felix," I say gently, sitting up so I can look at him properly, "it will be perfect because it's you. Because you're the alpha who planned a chocolate-making date just to see me smile, who helped me build this nest because you understood that I needed to create something beautiful. You don't have to compete with Marcus. You just have to be yourself."

His eyes brighten at my words, and I can smell the way his scent shifts toward something warmer and more confident. "You really mean that?"

"I really mean that," I confirm, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. "Besides, the bond with Marcus showed me something important."

"What's that?"

"Each connection is different. Unique. What I have with Marcus is profound and powerful and exactly what I needed from him. But what I'm going to have with you will be different, equally important but in its own way."

"And what do you need from me?" Felix asks, his voice dropping to something more intimate.

The question sends another wave of heat through my body, stronger this time, reminding me that while the desperate urgency has passed, the need is still very much there. "I need you to show me what it feels like to be cherished by someone who sees art in everything. I need you to claim me with the same creativity and attention to detail you bring to your designs."

Felix's pupils dilate at my words, and I can smell the spike of arousal in his scent. "Belle..."

"I'm ready," I tell him, reaching for the hem of the t-shirt he's wearing. "I need you, Felix. I need to feel what our bond will be like."

He helps me pull his shirt over his head, revealing the lean, strong torso I've been fantasizing about since that first dance at the ball. His skin is warm and smooth under my hands, and when I trace the line of his collarbone with my fingertips, he shudders with want.

"You're sure?" he asks, even as his hands find my waist, pull me closer. "The heat isn't too overwhelming?"

"It's perfect," I assure him. "Manageable but present. I can think clearly, I can choose what I want. And what I want is you."

That's all the encouragement he needs. Felix's mouth finds mine in a kiss that's different from Marcus's claiming, because it’s soft at first, more exploratory, like he's learning the shape of my lips and the taste of my desire. His hands frame my face with the same care he'd use handling precious artwork, and the tenderness in his touch makes my heart clench with love.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against my lips. "So perfect. I still can't believe you're ours."

"Believe it," I whisper back, my hands exploring the planes of his chest, the way his breath catches when I find sensitive spots. "I'm yours, Felix. Completely and permanently yours."

His response is to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine in a rhythm that makes heat pool low in my belly. I can taste coffee and something sweet on his lips, probably the pastries I know he keeps stashed in his kitchen for moments when inspiration strikes at odd hours.

When we break apart, both breathing harder, his eyes are dark with want and something deeper. "Belle, I need you to know something before we do this."

"What?"

"I love you," he says simply. "Not just as part of the pack, not just because you're our omega. I love you, Belle Hartwell, the woman who gets excited about library science and makes terrible jokes about the Dewey Decimal System. I love your mindand your heart and the way you make everything around you more beautiful just by existing."

The words hit me harder than any physical touch could. This is what I've been craving without knowing it, to be loved for exactly who I am.

"I love you too," I tell him, my voice thick with emotion. "I love the way you see beauty in everyday things, the way you made chocolate-making feel like the most romantic thing in the world, the way you helped me create this nest because you understood what I needed."

"Then let me love you properly," Felix says, his hands beginning to roam over my body with increasing urgency. "Let me show you what it means to be cherished by someone who thinks you're a masterpiece."

The word choice is so perfectly Felix, because he’s artistic, romantic, and completely sincere. It makes me laugh even as another wave of heat crashes through me. "Show me," I agree, pulling him down for another kiss.

Felix takes his time with me in a way that's completely different from Marcus's passionate claiming. Where Marcus was urgent and possessive, Felix is deliberate and worshipful. He begins by kissing me thoroughly, deeply, until I'm breathless and aching for more. His hands roam over my body with reverent touches, tracing patterns on my skin like he's memorizing every curve.

"So beautiful," he whispers against my lips, his hands skimming over my ribs, my waist, the curve of my hips. "I want to touch every inch of you, Belle. I want to learn what makes you tremble."