Page 31 of Three of a Kind

“Is she unbonded?”

“Yes.”

“Damn,” she says. “Pregnant omegas need alpha pheromones. It’s a whole thing. It’s why nature pushes us to nest so often while we’re pregnant. Omegas naturally want to fill that nest full of potent alphas.”

My mind races. Brooklyn hasn’t had access to alpha pheromones at all throughout her pregnancy. At least, not that I’ve seen.

And I’ve watched her a lot.

“I’m guessing the two of you are a scent match?” my sister asks.

“More than that,” I grumble, swiping a hand over my face. “She smells like…” I sigh, unsure how to even describe what Brooklyn smells like to me. “Like nothing I’ve ever scented. It’s an electric smell, and when she’s close by, I physically ache to touch her.”

“A soul match, like the moms.” She references our moms, but I have no idea what that means. “It’s one step above a scent match, and it’s seriously rare. Holy shit, Deveraux. They’re going to freak out. They’ve always sworn soul matches exist, but none of us found ours.”

My heart races.

I vaguely remember them talking about something like that, but as a teenager, I did my best to ignore how open my parents’ pack was about how much they loved each other.

“You’re not going to say a word to any of them until I’m ready to bring it up,” I growl.

“Jesus, you’re such a cranky asshole.” America chuckles. “Whatever. Back to your omega. So, if she doesn’t have any bonds, has she been experiencing symptoms of pheromone sickness? Wait, I don’t know if that’s the medical term?—”

“What is that?” I start to pace across the living room floor.

“It’s like being touch starved, but it’s more dangerous during pregnancy. Basically, it’s when female omegas suffer from not having alpha pheromones. There was an article about it somewhere recently. I don’t know if it’s a new thing, but it makes them lethargic, anxious, and it can even cause physical aches and pains.”

“So, do I need to take her to the hospital?” My eyes fly to Libby’s door.

Maybe Lennox could watch her niece while I take care of Brooklyn.

“Probably not.” America chuckles. “God, it’s weird hearing you lose your shit. Okay, so snuggle up next to her and see if it helps. If it does, then…” She snorts. “I’m actually not finishing that sentence. Call Theo if you need further instructions on how alphas and omegas fit together.”

Theodore is my only brother, and I frown like an old man as I catch her meaning.

“Fuck’s sake, America,” I mutter.

“Exactly. Love you, bye.” With that, she disconnects.

I pull the phone away from my ear.

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

I kneel on the edge of the bed, giving Brooklyn’s rump a shove until she moves closer to the middle. It seems much less invasive to situate myself on the edge of the mattress than it does to crawl up the middle.

I toe off my boots, kicking them out of the way as I pump myself up to lie down next to her.

This is where all the stereotypes about alphas come from. They say we’re pushy fucks when it comes to taking care of an omega, and it’s clear those rumors were not exaggerating.

My instincts will not let me relax.

Not until I do everything possible to help her feel better.

Christ.

She’s going to wake up in the morning and politely ask me what the fuck I think I’m doing here.

I still climb onto the bed at her side, because I’m apparently nothing if not committed to being a pushy creep.

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