Page 91 of Not Ready

“Nah.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze. “They’ve probably got questions to ask each one of us.”

I nod my agreement, even though my anxiety is making me itchy.

Holt runs his fingers through my hair at the base of my skull and leans over the bar of the chair arm so that I can snuggle into him.

“Miss Reed,” a woman says, popping her head out the door. “You and Mr. Hayes can come in.”

Holt stands up, offering me his hands. I take them, but every major movement lately seems to ache in my hips and pelvis. Once I’m upright, I move a hand to cradle the bottom of my belly because the pressure is no joke.

Holt frowns. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” I assure him. “She’s just getting heavy.”

The woman stands, waiting with a patient smile on her face. We make it inside, and Mercy and Bishop are sitting in chairs on the left wall. There’s a conference table that takes up most of the back wall, but there are only three seats taken, and they’re all in the middle.

The woman who let us in heads to the table and takes a seat next to the only other woman.

The two men flip through files, but the one in the middle has a nameplate that reads Hon. Justin Lennox. He’s an older man, with salt and pepper hair and pale blue eyes. It seems like he’s the one in charge, but the nameplate might be misleading.

“You can have a seat if you’d like,” the judge says, nodding to the two chairs on the opposite side of the table.

Holt’s hand meets my lower back as he guides me over. I take the one on the left, and once I’m settled, he lowers himself into the one on the right.

“Holton Hayes?” the judge asks.

“Yes, your honor,” he replies, stretching a hand over to link his fingers with mine.

“Very good. And you must be Vale Reed,” the judge says, studying the folder.

“Yes, sir,” I say, shaking my head. “Am I supposed to say your honor?” I look at Holt. “Why didn’t anyone prep me for this meeting?”

The judge chuckles, making little crinkles appear at the edges of his eyes. “Your honor works fine. We actually prefer to hear no one coached you on what to expect.”

My face feels hot, and I force a polite smile.

“Okay, so, Miss Reed. Are you here of your own volition?” the judge asks.

“Yes, your honor.”

“Please list the names of the alphas on your application.”

Oh God, that I can do, but what if he asks me their birthdays or something I don’t actually know? I’m not even sure what our address is. They really should have prepped me for this.

“Sebastian Bishop, Carrigan Mercer, and Holton Hayes.”

“Very good. Do you understand that a pack commitment is a legally binding union? Should you wish to dissolve your connection, you will need to petition the court in a very similar manner to divorce proceedings.”

My chest rises and falls rapidly. “I do understand.” My gaze moves to Bishop and Mercy. They both give me easy smiles when they catch me looking.

“And you understand this will legally bind your finances as a pack? All property will be communally owned.”

“What?” I gasp, glancing back at Mercy. “You need a prenup. Did you make one?”

Mercy chuckles. “I did not, and no, we don’t.”

Bishop’s amusement hits me in the bond, but I don’t know what he thinks is funny. This is extremely serious.

“You all have way more than I do. You bring way more to the table.” My head shakes. “I’m sorry. I need to ask that a prenup be made. We need a prenup, your honor?—”

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