Page 11 of All That We Keep (Always Yours #3)

Blake

I slip off Grayson's lap, my body feeling like it's simultaneously too hot and too cold all at once as I try to process the overwhelming scents filling the kitchen.

I can't have babies. I won't be able to have children. I’m not an Omega.

I blink back the tears that are threatening to spill over, trying to maintain some semblance of control even though I feel like I'm falling apart from the inside out. "What else did Quentin say?" My voice sounds strange to my own ears but I push past it.

Luther shakes his head. "He didn't say much during his visit, but he sent some comprehensive materials for us to read about Delta designations.

I waded through a little bit of the information this morning, and if you really are presenting late like this, it seems like what you're experiencing now might be your last heat cycle.

Blake, love, I know you don't like it when I beat around the bush, so I wanted to be completely honest with you. "

I look over at Luca, who's curled in Maceo's lap watching this conversation with wide, concerned eyes.

I spent years building a company, creating things that would last, trying to make my mark on the world in ways that I thought would matter.

But the one thing I've always quietly wanted, the chance to create life with my pack, to raise children who would carry part of me into the future, is being taken away by my own biology.

I bite down on my bottom lip hard enough to taste copper, using the sharp pain to keep the tears from spilling over. "I'm okay," I mumble. "Do you have the materials Quentin sent? I want to read them myself. I just... I need a minute to process this."

Luther's eyes study my face as a small smile spreads across his lips, understanding blooming in his expression. "I'm not letting you go upstairs alone to spiral, but we don't have to talk about it right now if you're not ready. Come on, love."

I start marching up the stairs without waiting for the others, needing movement and space to breathe even though I know Luther is right behind me.

Luca's sweet scent follows us up the staircase, mixing with Luther's leather and musk in a combination that should be comforting but feels overwhelming instead.

We pile back into the nest we hastily constructed yesterday, the blankets and pillows still holding the mingled scents of our pack from the night before.

I settle in the middle, Luca sitting up in front of me and Luther lying behind me before handing me his phone, already having pulled up the article about Deltas.

I start reading, speeding through the basic definitional material about designations and diving straight into the sections about physiological changes.

My eyes scan the clinical language, cataloging each piece of information like I'm reading a technical manual rather than a description of what's happening to my own body.

Inability to conceive or father children. Dimmer scent production compared to traditional Omegas. Increased possessiveness toward pack mates. More intuitive emotional processing. Reduced neediness and slick production during arousal cycles.

Each bullet point feels like another small death, another piece of who I thought I was being stripped away and replaced with something unfamiliar.

I knew I probably wouldn't be able to have children because of my stress-related heart condition and the medications I've been taking for years.

But this feels different, like my body is giving me a huge fuck you by taking away even the theoretical possibility.

Reading about myself like this feels surreal, like I'm studying someone else's medical case rather than my own transformation.

Luther wraps his arms tight around my stomach from behind, his larger frame curving protectively around mine as I continue reading. His nose traces along my neck, following the path to the claiming bite he placed there years ago.

Heat blooms in the pit of my belly against my will as I wiggle against him, a whine sitting at the back of my throat.

My nostrils flare as my scent sweetens uncontrollably, Luca staring at me, worriedly.

"What can we do?" Luca's voice breaks slightly as he speaks.

"What can I do? I want to help somehow."

The desperation in his voice cuts through some of my own numbness, reminding me that this situation affects more than just me.

Luca has always been generous with his heart, wanting to fix things for the people he cares about even when he's dealing with his own challenges.

I still remember the day at the diner when I was clamoring to take him home with me.

Luca told me that he was okay only for me to find out that he was shielding me from the pain he was suffering.

Luther presses another kiss to my bond mark. "There is something, if Blake wants to explore the option, but it would take a little bit of preparation and time."

He reaches over my shoulder and scrolls through the article on his phone, navigating past the sections I've already read until he settles on a part titled "Late Designation Presentation.

" I can see subsections listed beneath it, and one catches my eye immediately: "From Omega to Delta" and directly below that, "So You Want to Have a Baby. "

I frown as I start reading about egg preservation procedures, surrogate options, and adoption processes.

The clinical descriptions of fertility treatments and alternative family planning feel overwhelming when layered on top of everything else I'm trying to process.

Each paragraph outlines complex medical procedures and legal arrangements that would be required to preserve any chance of biological children.

"This is too much," I cry out, dropping the phone into the nest. "I just..." The sentence dies in my throat because I don't know how to articulate the feeling of drowning in information about a future I'm not sure I'm ready to plan.

Luca immediately picks it up, his brows furrowed in concentration as he reads through the same sections that just overwhelmed me. I can see him processing the information, his lips moving slightly as he works through the more complex medical language.

"I'll carry them," Luca says suddenly, his voice filled with fierce determination. "All of them. As many as you want. You're going to be a daddy to all the babies, Blake."

His offer is so earnest and generous that it breaks the tension in the room. Laughter bubbles up through the panic and the slight terror, the sound somewhere between joy and hysteria as I try to process his eagerness.

"Cupcake, that's too many babies," I manage to say through a strained giggles. "We're not doing that to you."

Luther's arm tightens around my waist as he speaks.

"Love, we can do whatever you decide you want, but I suggest we preserve what you do have now and make a decision about next steps later.

If you end up not pursuing biological children, then nothing happens with your eggs.

But if you do decide you want to try, you'll have options available. "

The logic of his suggestion makes sense, but the emotional weight of making any decision right now feels impossible. "I hate this," I say quietly, the admission feeling like another small surrender. "I hate that my body is making these choices for me."

I sigh heavily, trying to release some of the tension that's been building in my chest since Luther first started explaining my condition. But as the breath leaves my body, another tendril of heat moves through me, starting low in my belly and radiating outward.

A whine escapes my throat before I can stop it, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "What is that? I thought I was tired, but this feels..."

Luther purrs against my back, settling my unease but the sound only furthers my need, slick gathering around my hole.

"That's also why I came upstairs with you instead of letting you process this alone.

" His voice takes on a deeper tone. "Quentin mentioned that this heat was going to be different from your previous ones.

You're going to be fully conscious throughout the entire cycle, and it's not going to be the typical two or three-day affair that you're used to.

But you are going to need us - our knots, our taste, our presence. "

The heat building in my system feels different already, more intense but also more controlled than the overwhelming fog that usually accompanies my cycles. I can think clearly even as my body begins to demand attention and satisfaction.

"I want you to take what you need, Blake," Luther says, his voice dropping to that commanding tone that makes my spine straighten with attention.

"I want to watch you take what's yours as many times as you need it.

" His words send another wave of heat through me, and I can feel my body responding to both his voice and his scent.

"I want you to show your Omega how possessive you can be. Can you do that?"

I swallow nervously, unsure of the million changes I’m being forced to reconcile with all at once. Luca’s eyes widen as his gaze locks on mine, a sliver of hope and excitement there as he leans forward, waiting for me to accept everything around me.

“Why aren’t you more scared?” I know I’m being selfish. I know I should be grateful that Luca is fine in this moment, that he isn’t worrying about Hudson, that we’re safe, but I was supposed to be the one in control taking care of my Omega.

And now I’m…