Very few things in the universe would stop me from touching my omega. The joy flooding our bond is one of them. Her happiness infects my chest. Relief and love lift the weight from my shoulders. I ache for the moment to continue forever.

She kisses the tops of their heads before pushing them an arm’s length away and studying them from head to toe.

“Are you really okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” she asks.

“We’re okay,” the older one responds.

My kitten frames his face with her dainty fingers and searches his eyes.

“You’ve been so brave, Sail. You kept Reef safe when I couldn’t. I’m so proud of you.”

Tears fill both their eyes, but Reef tugs at the hem of my omega’s sleeve and slowly extracts the thumb from his mouth. My mate drops a hand to his shoulder and rubs his arm in long, soothing strokes.

He stops her petting with a spit-covered hand over hers.

“We don’t wanna stay here,” Reef says in the most serious tone I’ve ever heard from such a small being. My gut tightens and indignation slithers through me.

“I know, love, but we’re safest with this alpha, so we can’t—”

“No, he means here. This room. We want to go back to the ward,” Sail says.

She freezes with her eyes locked on his. For several long, tense moments, she stares at him without so much as breathing to mark the passing of time.

“Why?” she whispers.

“We got fwends wike us,” Reef says before popping his thumb back into his mouth. Sail takes up the explanation, so in tune with his brother he needs no prodding.

“There are other boys without parents, but everyone is super nice because there’s enough to share. We help each other because we have to be the ones to protect the ship when we grow up because we want all the babies and mommies to stay alive so there won’t be more boys like us.” His animated face relays his conviction, giving more meaning to his jumbled words as he rushes to share his excitement with his sister. “The first night was scary, but Shell gave Reef his extra blanket and even though we have our own beds, they let Reef climb into mine when he can’t sleep, and no one teased us about it the next day. Braid said he wished he had a little brother to hug and protect, so then Aerostar—” The first tear slips from my omega’s lashes as her sibling prattles on, and I lose track of his words as I watch it roll down her face.

Bittersweet joy flows through our bond. She studies their happiness and assures herself with small, loving caresses, tracing her thumbs over their cheeks, cupping their chins, and rubbing their shoulders, until Reef pops his thumb out of his mouth and frames her face with his pudgy little hands.

“We not scared no more. We wanna live there. You come see us all the time, but no stay. No girls.”

She gives a startled half-laugh, half-sob before wrapping her arms around him and resting her cheek on the top of his head. Rivers of tears flow from her eyes. He doesn’t complain as she squeezes him.

Sail’s eyes widen. He yanks her collar to the side. An odd mix of emotions clash within my chest as he studies the bandage on her shoulder.

“He hurt you.”

My hackles rise at the accusation in his adolescent voice, but I approve of his protectiveness over his sister, even if my alpha instincts demand I pulverize him for daring to challenge me.

“I claimed her. She’s mine now,” I snarl.

He puffs up his chest and steps between us. My omega grabs his arm, but he refuses to back down.

“She was ours first. Ours for a long, long time. My whole life. I never had to hurt her. You shouldn’t either.”

“Be quiet, Sail,” she hisses and tugs him backward, but he scowls at me.

“Did you hurt her like father hurt mommy? I’ll kill you,” he promises with clenched fists and fury pouring off him.

I step forward and grab him by the scruff. Even when I squat, his legs prove too short to kick me and his puny fists bouncing off my arm barely register.

“No one will ever hurt her again except for me. Not even you, little one, so calm down before I lose my patience and give her a reason to grieve,” I snarl with a pinch of his nape.

He shakes with the force of his emotions.

“Please stop, Aft. He doesn’t mean—”