Page 79 of Who We Were

Dishes clank before I'm surrounded by lemon goodness. Sniffing my alpha like a fiend, I settle into his comforting presence.

"What do you need, Omega?"

Omega, not Amaya.

My breaths stutter out as I struggle to piece together an answer to his question. Saying I don't know isn't an option. When my alpha pushes me, I know it's important.

Vincent let them inside, let them make me food. That means it's up to me. If he wasn't okay with them in our home, he wouldn't have let them take a step inside. Maybe he wouldn't have if I hadn't attacked all the things Oliver brought to my doorstep. Speaking of. I peel my head away from Vincent's safety and find Oliver shifting nervously directly across from me.

"Thank you," I croak. “For all the nest supplies and..." I trail off, not knowing what was in the plastic bags. I was too focused on the soft things, I guess.

Oliver's face softens into a look that makes me want to melt into his loving soul. "You never have to thank me for anything,Maya. But the nesting stuff was Emmett's doing. And the bags were groceries from Sam."

"Oh." I blush, tucking further into Vincent. "Well, thank you."

I don't think I can do this.

My omega is quiet, taking everything in, while my body trembles with nerves and probably a little hunger. I don't want to thank Samuel, but if he really did buy me groceries, I have to. I don't even really want to talk to Emmett either; his aura setting me on edge. It's easier with Oliver, but he directed the attention off of himself and now I'm left reeling.

I don't know what to do.

I look up, making eye contact with Vincent, who immediately understands. "Guys, why don't you dish up and eat out back? The fire pit is gas. You just have to turn the dial. We're eating and turning in for the night."

Three sets of nods with no complaints, just understanding and acceptance. Maybe even happiness? That can't be right. Vincent basically just told them to go outside like dogs so I could have some breathing room, which is fucking laughable because their scents areneverleaving my house again after this little visit.

Maybe if I can pick apart their scents to focus on Vincent's and the aroma of my nana's soup, I can stay sane. Sane as innotperfuming for the men who broke my heart, which gets harder the longer I'm near them.

I don't want that, not with them. But I can't ignore how calm my omega is. She's been frantic, even in sleep since the heat spike yesterday, and I know it will only get worse. For now, having my other three mates making me dinner soothes something primal inside of me.

The need to be taken care of and Vincent having the opportunity to be everything I need him to be is a gift. And I'm in no position to turn it away.

I've had enough traumatic heats to last a lifetime. If Samuel, Emmett, and Oliver really want to help without anything in return, that's their prerogative. I'm just the omega with enough issues to know when I need some help.

If they're offering and my alpha has control of the situation, I'll take it. I will allow it because I'm so tired. Tired of fighting every day, of wrestling with my omega all the time, and exhausted from trying to be okay again.

I'm not okay, but this helps.

They're helping.

I just want a heat that isn't riddled with pain and loneliness.

So yes. I blink up at Vincent. "Two pieces of bread, please. Oh, and extra parm."

51

VINCENT

I'm starting to think I have an eating fetish. There's something about watching Amaya eat that makes me shut up and watch. Especially when she's slurping soup and humming with every bite.

Wiggling happily beside me in her nest, she goes in for another spoonful. Before she can scoop some more, I snatch her wrist and steal the utensil. "My turn," I announce and turn until I'm facing her side.

"Y-you want to feed me?" she stutters. "Nobody has ever done that before."

I gnash my teeth at her playfully. "I fuckin' hope not. Here, open wide," I instruct with a spoonful. Like the good little omega she is, her jaw drops and allows me entrance. "Good girl."

Chills race up her arms, and I can't resist licking my lips. As much as I would love to devour my mate, I also want to know everything about her. We went from just meeting, to me moving in, her receding in the face of trauma, and now her heat is fast approaching.

Sure, we've spent a lot of time together snuggling and getting to know each other slowly, but I know there is so much more to learn.

---