Page 67 of Begrudgingly Yours
I swallow harshly. “I don’t want kids. I never have. The thought of it makes me feel weird.” I don’t mention that it’s because I don’t know what kind of mother I would be. I think they already sense it from the information I told them earlier. “I want a long career, so I don’t see that kind of life for myself. So, if you guys want a family more than just a pack, I’m not the omega for you.”
The last sentence comes out with a whimper that I don’tintend. I swallow it down, because it had to be said. I need them to know how serious I am about this.
At first, I can’t read any of their expressions, but then they all let out small inhales like they’re relieved.
“Baby, that’s not a deal breaker,” Everett says.
“It’s not?”
It’s Dax’s turn to shake his head. “We’re all going to have such busy careers. Jett will probably travel a lot for filming, I’ve got at least a decade worth of schooling left to get my doctorate, and Everett will be dealing with kids enough for all four of us.”
Everett nods his head in agreement. “Any free time we get, we’ll probably want to spend it with our pack and our omega.”
That ugly green beast rears its head again. I wouldn’t let my omega react a few moments ago, so this time she sends out a nasty snarl.
Instead of offended glances, all three alphas give satisfied smirks.
“Rory,” Everett starts. “Youare the person we want. We have wanted you for months… dreamt of no one else but you.”
“I haven’t been with anyone since we met,” Jett confesses.
The tears are immediate. Gosh, when did I get so emotional? My fire sign nature rejects this subconscious emotion.
My fingers caress over Jett’s hand. “Are you serious?”
His expression is nothing but pure happiness. “It’s always been you, twilight. Ever since I first saw you and then spat out the worst word vomit. It’s beenyou.”
Dax takes my other hand, pulling my attention towards him. “I haven’t thought of another girl, let alone an omega, since our first interaction last year. No other scent will ever do it for me. No one else’s sass will ever get me harder than yours.”
I let out a giggle at his declaration, because it’s sohim. Ilook between all three of them, feeling more complete than I ever thought possible.
“We can take it slow,” Everett states. “Court you the way you deserve. But our minds are made up. You’re our omega.”
A tear falls and I quickly wipe it away. “I’m a lucky omega.”
“We’re the lucky ones, Rory.” I meet their gazes, and I realize just how much they think that, too. It’s true, how lucky we all are. They’ve been waiting for their pack forever, and I’ve been waiting to let myself embrace who I really am. We just needed each other to do so.
“Now,” Dax says, changing the subject. “How do you feel about dogs?”
Jett scoffs. “Please tell me you meant cats.”
A wet laugh tumbles out of me as they continue to bicker about it, but there’s no sadness left. It’s all joy, and I’m so glad I’m finally letting myself feel it.
THIRTY-TWO
Playing: Halley’s Comet by Billie Eilish
The interiorof the restaurant Everett has swept me off to is gorgeous. The dimmed lighting, scented candles, and long burgundy tablecloths makes for a very relaxing atmosphere. I’d almost feel out of place if the alpha beside me didn’t reassure me that this place isn’t as formal as it looks.
That and Everett gave me a proper dress code. When he texted me to tell me to wear a dress and heels, I was ecstatic. There’s nothing more stressful than having to guess at what to wear on a date.
All week, I was antsy about going on another date with my potential pack. But when Everett called to ask me out just us two, things started feeling serious. There would be no buffers between us, no humorous silliness from Dax or any of Jett’s sarcastic comments. Just me finally getting to know the reserved alpha that I’ve been thinking about since last May.
My omega is frenzied with excitement at the idea of having all of his attention.
“I’ll have the twelve ounce ribeye. With asparagus, please,” he tells the waiter, which earns him a discreet look of judgment at the hefty steak he just ordered.
“He’s a hockey player,” I tell them, my tone not unkind but definitely with a warning. He has the decency to look sheepish as I order the fish tacos and mango salsa. When he walks away, I turn my attention back to Everett, who is trying to hide a smirk behind his glass of water as he takes a sip.
