Page 69 of Pack Plus One (Sweetwater City Reverse Harem Omegaverse #1)

The trip home passes in a blur of nervous anticipation.

When I arrive, I pause in the entryway, my eyes catching on the framed photo from our wedding day that holds pride of place on the wall.

The five of us, laughing as Jude smashed cake into Caleb’s face while Liam and Mason looked on with identical expressions of fond exasperation.

It had been the happiest day of my life.

Until, perhaps, today.

I take the test in the downstairs bathroom, setting the plastic stick on the counter before washing my hands with trembling fingers.

Three minutes. That’s what the instructions said. Three minutes to wait before my whole life potentially changes.

I pace the small space, mind racing with possibilities. A baby. Our baby. A tiny person with Caleb’s eyes or Jude’s smile or Liam’s thoughtfulness or Mason’s steadiness. Plus whatever traits I might contribute.

It’s terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure.

When the timer on my phone chimes, I nearly jump out of my skin. Taking a deep breath, I pick up the test, already knowing what I’ll see.

Two pink lines. Unmistakable.

I’m pregnant.

I lean against the counter, legs suddenly weak. It’s one thing to suspect, another entirely to know. There’s a life growing inside me, a new person who will join our unconventional family.

“Leah?” Caleb’s voice comes from the other side of the door, concern evident in his tone. “Are you okay? You’ve been in there a while.”

I open the door to find him standing there, brow furrowed with worry. His expression shifts immediately as he takes in my face, scenting the mix of emotions rolling off me.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, reaching for me automatically.

I hold up the test, words failing me completely.

His eyes drop to the plastic stick, widening as understanding dawns. For a moment, he’s perfectly still, not even breathing. Then, with a sound that’s part growl and part laugh, he lifts me off the ground in a crushing embrace.

“You’re pregnant?” he says against my hair, voice thick with emotion. “We’re having a baby?”

“We’re having a baby,” I confirm, tears suddenly streaming down my face. Caleb freezes.

“Leah…” His voice almost cracks. “Oh Leah…You don’t want this?”

My tears flow harder, but I’m already nodding. “I do! I’m just scared and happy and completely terrified and so, so happy.”

His shoulders sag with relief. He sets me down gently, cradling my face in his large hands. “You have no idea how happy this makes us.”

As if summoned by his words, the front door bursts open, followed by the sound of multiple footsteps rushing down the hall.

“Did she pee on it yet?” Jude’s voice carries ahead of him. “Is it positive? Are we having a tiny baker or what?”

“So much for respecting my process,” I laugh through my tears as Jude, Liam, and Mason appear in the hallway, all pretense of patience abandoned.

“We tried,” Liam says, not sounding particularly apologetic. “But Jude pointed out that if we waited for you to tell us, Caleb would have an unfair advantage in baby preparation time.”

“Which is absolutely unacceptable,” Jude declares. “Especially since I’ve already ordered customized baby-sized aprons for the bakery. With extra miniature chef hats.”

“You’ve what?” I laugh, wiping away tears.

“I might have also researched omega-safe prenatal yoga,” Liam admits sheepishly. “And enrolled us in a partner class.”

“Us?” I repeat, eyebrows raised.

“All of us,” he confirms. “The instructor was a bit surprised, but I explained our pack dynamics, and she was quite accommodating.”

“I’ve stocked the freezer with lactation cookies,” Mason adds calmly, as if this is a perfectly normal contribution. “Apparently they’re best prepared in advance to allow the flavors to mature.”

I look between them in disbelief. “You all knew. Before I knew.”

“To be fair, your body knew first,” Jude points out. “We just paid attention.”

Caleb’s arm wraps around my waist, his palm splaying protectively over my still-flat stomach. “Is this truly okay?” he asks quietly. “All of it?”

I place my hand over his, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine. A year ago, I would have balked at the very idea of pregnancy, of being tied to one place, one person—or in this case, four people—for the rest of my life.

But now, surrounded by my pack, their excitement and love washing over me in waves, I can’t imagine wanting anything else.

“It’s more than okay,” I tell him, reaching out to include the others in our embrace. “It’s perfect.”

They move as one, enveloping me in a group hug that should feel suffocating but somehow just feels like home.

“So,” Jude says once we’ve all had our moment, “who gets dibs on godfather status? Because I’ve already practiced my Marlon Brando impression.”

“That’s not how pack dynamics work,” Liam informs him with exaggerated patience. “All of us will share equal responsibility for the child’s welfare and upbringing.”

“Fine, but I still want it on record that I’ll be the fun dad,” Jude insists. “The one who teaches them how to burp the alphabet and sneak cookies before dinner.”

“Noted,” Mason says dryly. “I’ll be the one teaching them financial responsibility.”

“And I’ll handle educational development,” Liam adds.

Caleb shakes his head, but his smile is fond. “And I’ll protect them from all of you,” he says, pressing a kiss to my temple. “And from anyone else who might threaten our family.”

“They’ll be the most loved, most prepared, most ridiculous child on the planet,” I laugh, overwhelmed with happiness.

Later that evening, after the initial excitement has settled into comfortable certainty, I find Caleb in the spare room adjacent to the nest, tape measure in hand as he studies the walls with intense concentration.

“Planning something?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe.

He jumps slightly, caught in the act. “Just... measuring. For shelves.”

“Shelves,” I repeat, fighting a smile. “Not, say, a crib? Or changing table?”

He has the grace to look sheepish. “Maybe those too.”

I cross the room to wrap my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek against his broad back. “You’re going to build the nursery yourself, aren’t you?”

“We all are,” he corrects, turning to face me. “Liam’s already sketched designs for a mobile that plays classical music and emits soothing light patterns based on some research about infant cognitive development.”

“Of course he has,” I laugh. “And let me guess—Jude wants to paint a mural?”

“Space dinosaurs wearing party hats,” Caleb confirms, his expression perfectly serious. “Mason vetoed the initial design for being ‘chaotic.’”

“So they compromised on...?”

“Space dinosaurs wearing party hats.”

I shake my head, loving them all so fiercely it hurts. “Our child is going to be the weirdest kid in preschool.”

“Probably,” Caleb agrees, his hand finding its now-familiar place over my stomach. “But they’ll always know they’re loved.”

“By four ridiculous fathers and one slightly less ridiculous mother,” I add.

“Who’s running a successful bakery, I might add,” he says with obvious pride. “I think Sweet Omega has even increased sales for Le Roux. Did Liam show you the quarterly reports?”

“He did,” I confirm. “Though I’m more excited about the early strawberries he scored. I’ve been craving strawberry shortcake for days.”

“Cravings already?” Caleb’s eyes light with interest. “What else?”

“Pickles and ice cream,” I deadpan. “The most cliché pregnancy craving possible.”

His expression turns so earnest that I burst out laughing. “I’m kidding! Though I wouldn’t say no to some of Mason’s double chocolate cookies if they’re still in the freezer.”

“I’ll get them,” he says immediately, pressing a kiss to my forehead before heading toward the kitchen.

Alone in the soon-to-be nursery, I place both hands on my stomach, marveling at the miracle happening inside me. It’s still too early to feel anything, but knowing our child is there, growing stronger every day, fills me with a sense of wonder I never expected to experience.

When I glance up, I catch sight of my reflection in the window. My pack mark is visible above the neckline of my shirt. The puzzle piece necklace still hangs around my neck. Both symbols of belonging, of connection, of a journey that began with a wedding invitation and a case of mistaken identity.

“Best plus-one mix-up ever,” I whisper to my reflection, and to the new life beginning within me.

From the kitchen, I hear Caleb calling for Mason, who apparently has hidden the cookies “in a location only he can access.” Jude’s voice joins the fray, followed by Liam’s more measured tones attempting to mediate.

My pack. My family. My home.

As I turn to join them, my hand still resting protectively over our growing child, I can’t help but smile. Whatever comes next—midnight cravings, nursery debates, the inevitable chaos of raising a child in a house full of alphas and one very opinionated beta—we’ll face it together.

Just the way it was always meant to be.