Page 84 of Bound By Song (Evie Quad Omegaverse #1)

EVIANA

W armth surrounds me – thick and layered, pulsing with the scent of my alphas.

It’s the first thing I register as I blink awake: the weight of bodies pressed close, the rustle of breath, the brush of skin and soft blankets and the bond.

The bond…wow. I’m bonded. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would let an alpha get close enough to bond me, much less three . I never thought I’d want to bite them right back, or that I could love anyone besides my sisters this fiercely, completely and irrevocably.

I shift slightly, careful not to disturb the delicate sprawl of limbs around me, and realise I’m tucked deep in the nest – Dane curled at my front, Blaise half-draped across my chest, and Xar pressed close behind, one large hand splayed low over my stomach.

The air smells like us. Like nature and spice and storm-smoke, and beneath it all, the golden warmth of the bond threading between us is like a living, pulsing, perfect thing.

I don’t move. Not yet.

I just breathe. Let it settle. Let myself feel it.

Because I’m here. I’m safe.

And for the first time in my life, I know – deep in my bones – that I’m not alone.

It’s a wondrous thing.

“Mm.” Blaise stirs first, nuzzling into my throat with a lazy sigh. “She’s awake.”

“I know,” Dane murmurs from my other side. “Her breathing changed.”

“I felt it,” Xar rumbles, voice sleep-rough and close to my ear. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi,” I whisper back.

“How do you feel?” Dane’s hand smooths down my side in slow, grounding strokes.

“Floaty,” I admit. “A little sore. Starving.”

That earns a low chuckle from all three of them.

“How long was I…?”

“Five days,” Xar says, kissing the back of my shoulder. “You made it through the full heat. Crashed hard last night.”

Blaise hums against my neck. “Scared the shit out of me, honestly. You went completely out. Thought we’d broken you.”

“It’s the bond,” Dane says gently. “It grounded you. Pulled you through the last of it.”

I close my eyes and let the weight of that settle. Five days of raw intensity. Of surrender. Of them. And now – this soft, golden quiet.

My stomach growls so loudly I feel it in my toes.

“There she is,” Blaise grins. “Alright, honey. That’s our cue. Come on – Eggs Benedict, coming up.”

Breakfast is slow, warm, and perfect.

I sit on the counter in Xar’s hoodie – faded black, stretched soft with wear, too big on me in a way that makes me feel held.

I watch them move around the kitchen like a well-oiled machine: Blaise whisks hollandaise like his life depends on it after begging to be allowed to do something and promising he won’t mess it up, Dane poaches eggs with the calm efficiency of a man who’s done this a thousand times, and Xar slices buttery brioche instead of English muffins, muttering about “textural superiority.”

The bond hums between us – steady and low, a thread of contentment that pulses every time they glance my way or brush past each other. I catch waves of amusement from Blaise, the quiet protectiveness of Dane, and the focused calm that always seems to roll off Xar in low tides.

We eat together at the little kitchen table, still half-lit with soft Christmas lights, and the food tastes like heaven.

After, I slip upstairs for a long, hot shower – alone for the first time in days.

Don’t get me wrong, the bathroom in the nest is lovely, but I’m desperate for a change of scenery.

The steam rises around me as I take my time, washing away the final traces of heat and nesting and scenting.

Curious, I graze my fingers over my three new bond marks – and gasp.

They’re so sensitive. I comb conditioner through my hair.

Shave slowly. Linger under the water like I’m defrosting.

When I finally step out, a folded pile of clothes waits for me on the dresser. A cashmere jumper the colour of ash-dove grey and a pair of deep forest-green leggings. On top, a note in Blaise’s scruffy handwriting:

Wear this one. You’ll look like a forest fairy in it.

I shake my head fondly – but I wear it anyway. The jumper is soft enough to make me sigh. And the leggings hug me in all the right ways. For the first time in weeks, I feel like myself again.

Just…warmer.

Softer.

Loved.

I decide today will be a day of recovery.

Of lounging around and doing nothing, even though I’ve basically spent the last week on my back.

I blush. I mean, my body is sore in ways that tell me I was not lazy during my heat.

I think one more day to recover and just enjoy being bonded is more than okay.

But I will check on the chickens later. No doubt Dane or one of the others looked after them while I was unable to.

Downstairs, I pause in the hallway, the bond flickering in and out as I tune into them.

Dane is upstairs, probably measuring up for the next room he wants to renovate.

I didn’t realise it before, but beneath his calm stillness, there’s a burning need to be doing.

Maybe it comes from being a drummer, but I suspect it comes from his need to protect.

All of my alphas have it, but his trauma makes his need more pronounced.

He’s content and calm though, so I have nothing to worry about.

Xar is in the kitchen. Focused, purposeful. Creating something maybe, or just cleaning up after breakfast perhaps.

And Blaise— Blaise is trying to block me out.

I smile to myself. He’s not worried or upset or anything. Just up to something. I can feel the edges of it: excitement, anticipation, a little smugness. Typical Blaise.

I don’t push. I let him have it.

I’m stretching on the living room sofa watching some sequel drama-comedy movie with Hollywood A-listers in when the knock comes. Before I can stand, Blaise is already moving toward the door with an easy “Thanks, mate,” and then?—

Bleating?

I freeze.

“Is that a goat?”

Blaise reappears in the doorway, grinning like he’s won the lottery. “Technically, it’s three, honeybee.”

I rush to the front hall – and nearly collapse when I see the crate.

Three tiny pygmy goats, no bigger than throw pillows, wrapped in ribboned collars and stomping around like royal toddlers. One tries to headbutt Dane’s shin. Another attempts to eat the mail.

I drop to my knees.

“Oh my god !”

“They’re yours,” Blaise says indulgently, his arms crossed and smug. “Happy late Christmas, baby.”

I scoop up the tiniest one – black with a white starburst on her head – and burst into tears.

“Oh my god. You got me goats. This is the best Christmas-courting-bonding gift ever!” I sob, completely overwhelmed and already in love with the little bundles of fur.

“You’re Mochi,” I whisper into the soft fuzz of the black and white one. “You little menace.”

The other two are quickly dubbed Gremlin because he’s white (who immediately tries to climb the stairs) and Peanut, a gorgeous soft caramel coloured one (who chews on my fluffy socks).

“They’re amazing. I love them! Thank you!”

We spend the rest of the afternoon outside.

Dane has already built them a makeshift pen at some point and Blaise has filled it with a collection of toddler toys, from a small trampoline to a see-saw, a slide and a swing.

We feed them, watch them bounce and play and eventually, they fall asleep in my lap.

At some point, Blaise brings me my new winter coat and accessories, kisses my cheek before slipping away again, but I don’t follow.

I stay outside until the sun dips low and the sky turns a smoky mauve, just reflecting on how I went from being the loneliest girl in the world, to the most loved and happiest omega.

The smell hits me first when I step back inside.

“What is that?” I ask, blinking. “It’s too late for lunch, too early for dinner.”

“Surprise feast,” Xar says, tugging me close for a kiss. “We’ve got a movie marathon queued up. We’re feeding you now so we can fully cocoon later.”

“You’ve been cooking all day?”

“And hiding goats,” Blaise adds proudly. “We multitask.”

I laugh but let Blaise lead me into the kitchen where Dane is following Xar’s orders. I love that two of my alphas can cook and Blaise is a liability.

There’s an absolute feast laid out on the table – Xar wasn’t messing around.

The spread is unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

Charred octopus with lemon aioli. Duck confit spring rolls.

Roasted bone marrow. Tarte flambée with lardons and caramelized onions.

Miso black cod with wild rice. A miniature feast fit for royalty.

I try not to cry.

I fail.

“I didn’t think I’d ever have a life like this,” I whisper, halfway through a bite of the cod. “I didn’t think I’d ever have company. That I’d ever get out of the self-imposed, isolated rut I was in.”

Dane reaches across the table, his hand warm around mine.

“You did get out,” he says quietly. “You made it. You chose to survive, to be vulnerable and let us in. You chose to love.”

“And now you’re ours,” Blaise says, softer than I’ve ever heard him. “You don’t have to go back to being alone. Not ever.”

Xar pushes his chair closer, rests his head on my shoulder.

“We love you, Evie,” he says. “That’s not going to change.”

And I believe them. With everything in me.

“I love you too,” I whisper. “I really, really do.”

And I feel it – the bond swelling, blooming bright. Three hearts open wide, reaching for mine.

There’s no space between us anymore.

Only home.