Page 33

Two months later

The hospital corridor is finally quiet after the chaos of the morning rush. I check my watch—two more hours until my shift ends. Two more hours until I can see her.

I flip through the chart of my last patient, a young omega with a broken arm, and a story about falling from a helicopter when a man tried to kidnap her. After asking more questions, I leave her to make a call to the number assigned to omegas in danger and wait.

“Dr. Miller,” a nurse calls from the station. “We’ve got a walk-in with chest pains.”

I nod, tucking the chart under my arm. “I’ll be twenty minutes. I have an issue to deal with.”

“I’ll pass it onto Dr. Holmes.”

This is what I love about emergency medicine. Not only helping omegas deliver babies into the world. But the constant motion, the problem-solving, the knowledge that every moment matters. But lately, I’ve watched the clock more and more, eager for the moment I can walk out those doors and into the life I’ve built with my pack.

With Freya.

Three hours, one omega now saved, and two minor emergencies later, I’m finally free. I change out of my scrubs in the locker room, checking my phone to find a text from Thorne:

Meeting at the bakery. Important. Bring the paperwork.

My heart races as I respond,

On my way.

The drive to La Petite Rose takes exactly seven minutes. I’ve timed it repeatedly, always calculating the fastest route between the hospital and wherever Freya might be. It’s not an obsession; it’s preparation. At least, that’s what I tell myself.

I see the dangers omega’s face. Hell, our omega did too, recently.

It’s also because I love to see the smile on her face whenever I get home.

The bakery is quiet when I arrive, the afternoon lull setting in after the lunch rush. Through the window, I can see Zane wiping down tables while Thorne sits in our usual corner, his laptop open. Freya is behind the counter, her hair pulled back in a messy bun, flour dusting her apron as she pipes delicate rosettes onto a cake.

I pause for a moment, just watching her. The concentration in her eyes, the slight furrow of her brow, the way her tongue peeks out between her lips as she focuses—I could watch her forever.

The bell chimes as I enter, and her head snaps up. The smile that spreads across her face makes my chest tighten.

“You’re early,” she says, setting down her piping bag.

“Slow day,” I reply, walking over to drop a kiss on her lips. “Just mild catastrophes, nothing major.”

“Your favorite kind,” she teases, returning to her work.

I make my way to Thorne, dropping into the chair across from him. “Where’s Stone?”

“With Freya’s parents,” Thorne answers without looking up from his screen. “They’re bringing him over in about an hour.”

Zane joins us, setting down a tray of coffee. “About time, Doc. We were thinking you’d sewn yourself to a patient.”

“You’re hilarious,” I say deadpan, taking a sip. Perfect, as always. “I brought the paperwork.”

Thorne finally looks up, eyes intense. “All of it?”

I nod, pulling a folder from my bag. “Every last form. You’re sure about this?”

“Never been surer of anything,” Zane says, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “It took so long to come through.”

“Yeah. There were a few complications with O’Hearn, but it’s all resolved now,” Thorne answers as he closes his laptop. “But they are here now. It’s time to make our omega official.”

I glance over at Freya, who’s oblivious to our conversation, humming as she works. “Hopefully, she’ll still say yes.”

“She’d better,” Zane says with a grin that doesn’t quite hide his nervousness. “Or I’ll tie her down and tickle her until she does.”

We sit in silence for a moment, each lost in our own thoughts. I think about the first time I met Freya, how she sat in my waiting room. I only know now it was fear in her eyes.

She glances up and smiles, like she knows what I’m thinking. It’ll be even better to know exactly how she feels when she is ours. She has to be. She’s brought light into our lives, piece by piece, day by day.

“She deserves everything,” I breathe.

Thorne’s eyes find mine as he nods. “That’s what we’re going to give her.”

The bell chimes again, and Freya’s brother Finton walks in, followed by her mother with Stone in her arms. The baby squeals when he sees us, chubby arms reaching out.

Finton approaches our table, giving me a nod. “Doctor.”

“There’s my boy,” Thorne says, standing to take him. “Were you good for Grandma?”

“An absolute angel,” Danielle says, her eyes twinkling. “Unlike his uncle at that age.”

Freya’s brother Finton rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

“Finton,” I say. “How’s the new job?”

“Challenging,” he admits. “But good. Is that what I think it is?” He gestures to the folder.

I nod. “If you’re thinking it’s the paperwork to make your sister officially ours, then yes.”

“About time,” he mutters, but there’s a smile playing on his lips.

“It takes time for the paperwork to come through,” I grouch. “Anyway, have you got a pack yet?”

“No, I’m not looking for a pack or an omega. I’m too busy.” Ah. Just like we were.

“I was once.” I nod to his sister. “It changes when you meet the right omega.”

Freya finishes with her cake and comes around the counter, wiping her hands on her apron. “What’s going on here? Secret meeting?”

“Not at all,” Zane says, pulling out a chair for her. “We just wanted to talk to you about something.”

She sits, looking between us with suspicion. “The last time you three had that look, we ended up with a puppy.”

“Rosie needed a pal, and no more puppies,” I promise, sliding the folder across the table. “Just this.”

She opens it cautiously, as if expecting it to explode. Her eyes widen as she reads the first page. “This is...”

“The legal paperwork,” Thorne says, bouncing Stone gently on his knee. “Making you legally ours. All the legal protections, rights, everything.”

“But,” I add, leaning forward to catch her gaze, “we already told you we want more than just the paperwork. We want your soul, Freya. Everything, not just the signature. When you’re ready, we want to claim you.”

Her eyes fill with tears, one hand coming up to cover her mouth.

“Only if you want it,” Zane says quickly. “No pressure.”

“No pressure,” she repeats, a laugh bubbling up through her tears. “I was scared to ask if we were still going to be a legal pack and now you hand me the life-changing paperwork and tell me you want to claim me, and then you say ‘no pressure’?”

We all exchange glances, suddenly uncertain.

“You still want it, don’t you?” Thorne asks carefully.

“Yes!” she exclaims, launching herself at us, somehow hugging all three of us at once. “It’s what I’ve dreamed about!”

Relief washes over me, so powerful I have to close my eyes for a moment. When I open them, Freya’s mother is watching us with a soft smile.

“Well,” she says, “I think this calls for a celebration.”

“Actually,” Zane says, pulling another envelope from his pocket, “we have one more thing.”

Freya eyes the envelope suspiciously. “If that’s divorce papers already, I’m going to be very confused.”

“Such a comedian,” Thorne says, rolling his eyes.

“She always had the talent for stand-up comedy,” her mother adds with a wink. “Though her delivery could use some work.”

“I’ll have you know my delivery is excellent,” Freya protests, taking the envelope. “Just ask any of my—” She stops as she opens it, her breath catching. “Plane tickets?”

“To Marseilles,” I explain. “To visit your grandmother. All four of us.”

“Five,” Thorne corrects, kissing Stone’s head. “We wouldn’t leave this little guy behind.”

Freya looks at the tickets, then at us, her eyes filling with fresh tears. “You remembered.”

“Of course we remembered,” Zane says gently. “You talk about her all the time.”

“But I never thought—” She stops, overcome. “Thank you. All of you.”

She pushes her chair back and moves around the table, kissing each of us in turn. When she reaches me, her lips linger, and I taste the salt of her tears.

“I love you,” she whispers. “All of you.”

“We love you too,” I reply, my voice rough with emotion.

Freya’s mother and brother are watching with big smiles on their faces. As I look around at my pack–Thorne has Stone in his arms, Zane has his arm around Freya’s waist–a sense of completeness washes over me.

This is what we’ve built from the ashes of Freya’s old bakery. And the subsequent stalking of an omega that Zane knew was his. But she was ours

We spent years refusing any other scent into our pack, but the one I wanted. The one Thorne smelled years before and knew was ours. The one Zane rescued.

It could only be her—Freya—our omega.

She’s a light so bright it sometimes hurts to look at her. And I’m delighted she’s ours.

She entered Thorne’s life first, and then mine. I was on board as quickly as Zane, and when he refused to give her up until Thorne believed it too, I was elated. And now, with these papers and these tickets and these promises, we’re making it official. Forever.

It’s strange how life works out. As a doctor, I’ve seen how quickly things can shatter, how one moment can change everything. But I’ve also seen how the body heals, and how wounds close for scars to form, and life continues—if we’re lucky.

Our pack is like that—scarred but healing, once broken but now stronger for it. And Freya is the reason. She’s the center of it all, our omega, our heart, our home.

As the afternoon sun streams through the windows of La Petite Rose, casting an ethereal light across her face, I make a silent promise to protect this happiness, this love, this family we’ve built.

Because some things, once found, are worth fighting for. Worth living for. Worth everything.

And what we have is.