Page 86 of Not Ready

It’s strange, but I can feel his encouragement in the bond.

I’ve only ever had two-person relationships.

It’s likely because that’s what I grew up around. Having a beta mom and no dad present meant I grew up expecting to be a beta. I still have no clue how I ended up an omega or where that DNA came from.

I’m not opposed to pack life.

I’m actually rather drawn to the idea of it.

It’s just taking a little getting used to. It really does help that Bishop has been so encouraging.

My head tilts as I study Mercy’s exhausted expression. It’s not surprising, since he was gone all night, but maybe I should get out of his way so that he can get some sleep.

A terrible thought crosses my mind, and I speak before I can stop myself. “Did everything go okay?”

“Yeah, man. You look beat,” Holt says, swaggering in our direction. He’s dressed now in a white T-shirt and dark jeans. It’s such a simple outfit, but with the material stretched over his strong chest and all his tattoos on display, I find myself licking my lips.

“It was a successful night.” Mercy studies my face. “And I am exhausted, but if you’re up for it, we’d like to give you our first courting gift.”

My eyes fly to Bishop’s as my heart races.

He grins. “It’s from me too.”

“But we’re already bonded. You don’t need to court me. You’re the only gift that I need,” I assure him.

“And yet, you’re still going to allow us to court you properly,” Mercy says, wrapping his hand in mine. He leads me to the door just across the hall and down a bit. “It’s the closest room.”

“You just ruined the surprise,” Holt mutters.

“Did I?” Mercy asks.

“No, but you will if you aren’t careful.” Bishop chuckles. “She has no idea what’s happening.”

“You can tell all that?” Holt asks, tilting his head.

“Hmm, that would be convenient.” Mercy grabs the handle with his free hand and pushes it open. “We figured you’d feel safest having the nursery close.”

“And there it is,” Bishop says with a laugh.

“He’s been up for twenty-four hours. We should probably give him a break,” Holt says, nodding to the open doorway. “Do you plan to go inside?”

My eyes widen as I focus back on the room. The faint scent of paint makes my nose wrinkle, but my jaw falls.

The entire house is in neutral tones, like cream, light gray, and even an eggshell blue in the primary bedroom, but this room is what I would describe as bright pink.

“The shade is called Magenta Process,” Mercy says, stepping into the room and tugging me along with him. “If you hate it, we can have it painted over. I selected it from my phone and…” He clears his throat. “It’s much brighter than I anticipated.”

“It’s beautiful,” I tell him truthfully.

In all honesty, even if I hated the color, I would swear I didn’t.

The far wall has two windows on either side, and in the middle, Aurora is painted in white. The crib that we looked at is still in the box, leaning against the wall, like that’s where they intend to place it once it’s assembled.

On the left wall is a six-drawer dresser and a glider with a footstool. They’re both the same white wood to match the crib. On the right wall is a five-drawer dresser. It’s taller than the other but thinner.

The floor is covered in a huge area rug in the shape of a princess castle. It has blue spires and light pink tops and the princess Aurora will share her name with.

I squeeze Mercy’s hand for dear life as tears spring to my eyes. It’s incredible, and so much more than I could have ever provided for her.

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