Page 115 of Knot Your Baby

She opens it cautiously, as if expecting it to explode. Her eyes widen as she reads the first page. “This is...”

“The legal paperwork,” Thorne says, bouncing Stone gently on his knee. “Making you legally ours. All the legal protections, rights, everything.”

“But,” I add, leaning forward to catch her gaze, “we already told you we want more than just the paperwork. We want your soul, Freya. Everything, not just the signature. When you’re ready, we want to claim you.”

Her eyes fill with tears, one hand coming up to cover her mouth.

“Only if you want it,” Zane says quickly. “No pressure.”

“No pressure,” she repeats, a laugh bubbling up through her tears. “I was scared to ask if we were still going to be a legal pack and now you hand me the life-changing paperwork and tell me you want to claim me, and then you say ‘no pressure’?”

We all exchange glances, suddenly uncertain.

“You still want it, don’t you?” Thorne asks carefully.

“Yes!” she exclaims, launching herself at us, somehow hugging all three of us at once. “It’s what I’ve dreamed about!”

Relief washes over me, so powerful I have to close my eyes for a moment. When I open them, Freya’s mother is watching us with a soft smile.

“Well,” she says, “I think this calls for a celebration.”

“Actually,” Zane says, pulling another envelope from his pocket, “we have one more thing.”

Freya eyes the envelope suspiciously. “If that’s divorce papers already, I’m going to be very confused.”

“Such a comedian,” Thorne says, rolling his eyes.

“She always had the talent for stand-up comedy,” her mother adds with a wink. “Though her delivery could use some work.”

“I’ll have you know my delivery is excellent,” Freya protests, taking the envelope. “Just ask any of my—” She stops as she opens it, her breath catching. “Plane tickets?”

“To Marseilles,” I explain. “To visit your grandmother. All four of us.”

“Five,” Thorne corrects, kissing Stone’s head. “We wouldn’t leave this little guy behind.”

Freya looks at the tickets, then at us, her eyes filling with fresh tears. “You remembered.”

“Of course we remembered,” Zane says gently. “You talk about her all the time.”

“But I never thought—” She stops, overcome. “Thank you. All of you.”

She pushes her chair back and moves around the table, kissing each of us in turn. When she reaches me, her lips linger, and I taste the salt of her tears.

“I love you,” she whispers. “All of you.”

“We love you too,” I reply, my voice rough with emotion.

Freya’s mother and brother are watching with big smiles on their faces. As I look around at my pack–Thorne has Stone in his arms, Zane has his arm around Freya’s waist–a sense of completeness washes over me.

This is what we’ve built from the ashes of Freya’s old bakery. And the subsequent stalking of an omega that Zane knew was his. But she was ours

We spent years refusing any other scent into our pack, but the one I wanted. The one Thorne smelled years before and knew was ours. The one Zane rescued.

It could only be her—Freya—our omega.

She’s a light so bright it sometimes hurts to look at her. And I’m delighted she’s ours.

She entered Thorne’s life first, and then mine. I was on board as quickly as Zane, and when he refused to give her up untilThorne believed it too, I was elated. And now, with these papers and these tickets and these promises, we’re making it official.Forever.

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