“I… did not know it would feel like that.”
“It was good?”
He answered with a hum in the back of his throat, angling his head to kiss me softly on the lips. “Just… transcendental. Transporting. I feel like I didn’t understand sex until today, and… you’ve always been…” Fin sighed, batting his eyelashes close enough to brush against my face. “You always make it incredible, but that heat is just. Something else.”
“Like a calling from some part of you that you’ve barely met.”
“Uh-huh.”
Our eyes met. Behind the tiredness and the satisfied desire, I saw something nameless and wonderful. The question jumped out of me before I had a chance to stop it.
“I don’t want to wait any longer,” I said, voice catching a little on my throat. “Fin, I… I want to claim you. If you’ll have me.”
His eyes clouded over with tears, and he nodded. When my lips met his, I could practically taste the love and relief emanating from him. Against all odds, we had found each other, and stayed in touch with each other, and made it work with each other — and now that we’d made it past all of those obstacles, this was our reward.
Outside, the city lived on around us, but everything I cared about was right in here. London was cool, but… it could wait. The whole world could wait. He turned around in my arms, breath heavy and stuttering, and I turned my head to best reach him, nuzzling into the skin there with my face.
“I love you,” I told him. I heard his breath catch again.
I kissed him softly, once. Then I drew back, my head spinning, and bit down.
16
Finley
Ever since we returned home from London, I hadn’t been feeling at my best — and it wasn’t just longing for more European adventures. Whether I caught some bug across the pond or whether I was just missing the spirit of adventure, I couldn’t be sure — but my stomach swirled every time I woke up, and I couldn’t fight off my feelings of fatigue. Whatever I was dealing with, I was certainly glad to be out of work for the summer. It freed me up to lie in bed all morning, texting Vaughn, Sutton and Lukas about the misery of my weak existence.
Vaughn had been predictably patient. Lukas was full of his usual sweet, supportive charm.
Sutton, of course, could be relied upon for other things.
He turned up at the door with vegetable soup and a best friend’s concerned pout. “Finley, if you don’t get your ass to Dr. Quintero at some stage today, I will gladly kick it instead.”
He’d been trying to persuade me to go for days. Admittedly, that would probably be the more productive way of handling things than seeking sympathy from every one of the favorites in my contacts — except my mom, who already worried quite enough for one person.
“Sutton, you can’t just walk in.”
“Good thing I called to see if there were any available appointments today,” he said, chirpier than he had a right to be. “There are, and they’ve tentatively penciled us in. So we’re going.”
I groaned, hiding my face in my hands.
“Yes,” he said. “No is not an option. You’re sick, and if I glance at my phone and see the crying face emoji from you one more time I’m going to be apoplectic.”
“Good word.”
“Thank you,” he said. “Now eat your soup. We’re going in an hour.”
There was little point in arguing. I knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer, and that he was right, and… the combination might have made me grumpy, but there was nothing for it.
What I wasn’t expecting was Sutton’s awkward follow-up line of questioning.
“So. I don’t want to be an insensitive asshole, because I know about all your medical shit, and I know what you’ve been told about that. But… you have noticed what all these symptoms look like, right?”
I raised my eyebrows at him.
“I mean,” he continued, “since I know you’re getting some now, and it’s not as impossible as it was before…”
“Nope,” I said bluntly. “Still impossible.” I gestured weakly at the general vicinity of my reproductive system. “This is all still faulty equipment.” Still, even as I threw all this sass at him, I couldn’t pretend that the same thought hadn’t occurred to me as I was bent over the bowl of the toilet for the past few mornings. After all, the doctors had all told me I couldn’t go into heat either, or at least that it would be extremely unlikely. They had also told Vaughn he would never be a father after his accident.
Could they all potentially be wrong about this, too? Or was this just wishful thinking?
It was probably best not to get my hopes up. I still remembered the cold shell I had become when that feeling of grief descended on me in Madrid, and Vaughn was at work right now; I didn’t have the comfort of his arms around me to take it all away. More than likely, Dr. Quintero would just sling some vitamins my way and tell me to get some rest.
Sutton shrugged. “I hear you. Just wouldn’t be doing my duty as your friend if I didn’t say what I was thinking.” He paused. “By the way. I hope this isn’t insensitive, but… your genes and Vaughn’s genes? Fucking beautiful babies.”
I gave him a faint smile. I had to remind myself that he didn’t know Vaugh’s secret — that the Blackwater pack at large still likely thought of him as a veritable baby-making machine. With me, at least, it was easier for him to keep that secret. Nobody would question why we weren’t having cubs if they knew anything about my medical history.
“Was that harsh? That was probably harsh.”
“It’s not,” I assured him. “I think you’re right. But then I think Vaughn could have beautiful babies with just about anybody.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” he said. “I know you see a sniveling, red-eyed sweaty mess in the mirror right now, but you’re usually pretty okay.”
He winked, grinning at me through the mock-stern stare I sent his way.
“Anyway. It seems like things are pretty serious with you two already. Would it really be such a bad thing, if…?”
“It’s not happening,” I reminded him. “But no, it wouldn’t. You’re right. Things are… yeah. They’re good.”
“I mean, he took you to Europe,” said Sutton, giving me a pointed look over the top of his fruit smoothie. “That is not a disposable alpha, even if he didn’t… y’know. Look like some kind of Abercrombie model.”
“Abercrombie? Wash your mouth out.”
“Fine. A Tom Ford model.”
I hummed, considering. “Well… sure. Close enough.”
“Thank you for your approval, Anna Wintour. Eat your goddamn soup.”
///
Two hours later, the floor had fallen out from underneath me.
I could feel my face was stiff and pale as I headed back out to the parking lot of the doctor’s office, catching sight of Sutton through the rolled-down window of his car. He took one look at me and clambered out. Under any normal circumstances, I would have taken the opportunity to tease him for openly caring about me.
Right now, I was grateful for his steadying arm.
“Whoa, Fin. Are you okay?”
“You’re right,” I said simply. “I am. I’m pregnant.”
We stood in silence, the summer breeze lifting my hair away from my face. It felt like I wasn’t standing in the real world — like I had entered some alternate dimension, with paths and branches I never thought would be available to me. I could feel tears I’d cried weeks ago in Spain drying up and fading away.
“Well, shit,” said Sutton, plain and simple. “Okay. Let’s, uh… Let’s sit you down in the car. Step one.”
I nodded, and took a seat in the passenger side. I belted up in a daze, shaking my head slightly as Sutton climbed in beside me.
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s insane,” he agreed. “But let’s forget the probability for now. It happened. Doesn’t matter how likely or unlikely it was. What matters is how you feel about it.”
I hadn’t taken a moment to think about it yet. The only thing I’d had a chance to process so far was the initial shock. I could still hear the blood rushing through my ears, and my heart was pounding like I couldn’t believe — but now that I was sitting here beside my best friend in familiar territory, and talking through it all?
My face creased, and my eyes brimmed with tears.
“Oh, Fin…”
“It’s — no, I’m not sad,” I clarified, wiping away the tears as they fell. I shot him an apologetic smile, shaking my head. “It’s not that. I’m… I just never thought I’d have this. I always wanted a family, and I never believed I’d be able to have one. Not like this.”
Sutton shot me a lopsided smile, full of relief, and gave my shoulder a firm squeeze. “It’s amazing, Fin. Really. I’m thrilled for you.”
I smiled back, shuffling to get comfortable in the seat as he pulled out of the parking lot.
“So. I guess now you need to talk to Papa.”
I shrugged, nibbling on my lip with excitement. “Uh. Yeah. I guess I do.”
///
As it turned out, talking to ‘Papa’ wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped. Every time I tried to call his office, he was busy in meetings. His cell wasn’t even switched on — and though I knew he’d been busy over the past few days, finding him this incommunicado at such a vital moment was fraying the edges of my anxious heart.
This was big news, and I didn’t want to share it with anybody else until he knew it, but the secret was getting harder and harder to contain. My parents’ numbers stood out in my list of contacts like burning beacons. When I touched my hand to my stomach, wondering what I’d soon learn about the new life growing inside me, I could hardly fight the instinct to call them both right up and cry down the phone about the good news.
In the end, the nervous energy took matters into its own hands, and I sent him a text.
Honey, I know you’re busy with work, but I really need you to come out to Blackwater tonight.
Now all there was to do was wait. He’d see it as soon as he had a spare minute, and then I was sure he’d agree right away. As much as he played around and called himself a big gruff alpha, I knew he was made of soft toffee; if he knew I was sincerely asking him to come in a way that seemed important, he’d drop everything to do what I asked.
He was my mate, after all.
And now he was going to be the father of my miracle child, too.
17
Vaughn
I was used to long and busy days full of client meetings and reworking plans. That was part of the nature of my job — that some days would be creative and leisurely, and others would be packed full of the kind of stressful mundanities that kept any admin or HR department ticking over. On those days, I tended to shut my cell off to remove the distraction.
I was not used to turning it back on again to see a bunch of missed calls and a panicked-sounding text from my mate.
I really need you to come out to Blackwater tonight.
I clenched my jaw, trying to hold my emotional defenses against a wave of worry. There was no use getting concerned until I knew what was going on. Either way, I was leaving work right now; I could be on the way to Blackwater just as soon as I turned the ignition key.
That meant texting wasn’t an option. I’d have to wait for a response, foot tapping and fingers drumming in the car. Instead, I hit the call button and made my way out to the parking lot.
Fin answered within a couple of rings. His voice sounded… shaky.
“Vaughn — hey.”
“Hey,” I said. “I’m sorry. It’s been crazy all day. I just saw your text. Are you okay?”
“I’m… yeah. I’m fine.”
My brow furrowed. “Oh. But-”
“I do need you to come home.”
I pursed my lips as I climbed into the car, trying to figure this puzzle out. Was he trying to do something nice for me? Surely not. It would be a really sweet gesture to organize a dinner or something, but I was pretty sure he wouldn’t repeatedly call me at work to deliver that kind of invitation. This was just plain bizarre.
“I mean. Of course,” I said, still puzzled. “I’ll set off right now. But is something wrong? Has something happened? I’m just…” I trailed off. He still hadn’t answered, and the silence kind of worried me. “I don’t understand, you know. It’s obviously something kind of pressing.”
“Yeah.”
I blinked. Is… that it? “Well. Can’t you tell me over the phone? I’m literally sitting in the car right now, and I’ll be with you as quick as traffic is moving. I just want to make sure you’re all good.”
He swallowed. Concern swirled in my stomach.
“Fin,” I said. “I’m worried.”
“Don’t be,” he said. By the tone of his voice, it was clear that we both knew this was empty advice. You couldn’t just wish away a feeling like this. It ate at you until it had its fill, or until the plate was snatched away from underneath it. “Look, I… I don’t really want to say it over the phone.”
“Are we good? We can still… you know. You and me?”
“Oh, Vaughn. Of course. It isn’t that. It’s nothing bad. It’s just…”
He sighed. We sat in silence on the phone for a few moments, the line crackling quietly between us. I understood where he was coming from. Whatever important news this was, it probably wasn't most appropriately delivered down a phone line, but my curiosity had a hold of me now, and it wouldn’t let me go.
“Vaughn, I want you to understand something. I’m not guessing. I… I’ve been to see Dr. Quintero, and he checked, and it’s real, and… it’s true. Somehow. Okay?”
“The doctor?”
Hearing the panic in my voice, he spoke up quickly again. “I’m fine, Vaughn. I promise. I… it’s… Okay. I’m pregnant.”
The silence took over again. I sank a little into my seat. Cold spread through my chest like I’d been shot. Like brain freeze, misdirected.
“Whose?”
“Yours, Vaughn. It could only be yours.”
I shook my head, temper already fraying. “The point is that it only couldn’t be mine.”
I heard the hurt and strain in his voice, but right now I couldn’t make sense of it. Doctor after doctor had told me the same thing. It just wasn’t possible that I could father a child, so only one alternative remained. This wasn’t my baby. My mate had been sleeping with someone else. The mate I’d marked just weeks ago.
I bit my tongue. “I… guess I’ll stay up in Helena, then.”
“Vaughn, no. Wait — please, please listen. It could only be your baby. I haven’t-”
“Mm-hm.”
“Vaughn, I would never-”
“I could never,” I interrupted. “It’s not possible. You know that. I told you that. We talked about it time and time again.” I didn’t like snapping at him, but my head and my heart were both reeling. After all these weeks of bliss, and after believing that I’d finally stumbled into the kind of happiness I thought I’d never have, I could never have guessed that this was how it’d end.
Should’ve known it was too good to be true.
His voice shuddered. “You are the only one. Ever, ever. I swear.” I knew that he was crying on the other end of the line. My hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, trying to fend off the instinct to comfort him. “You have to believe me.”
“I… yeah. I guess we’ll talk about it later.”
His breath caught. I closed my eyes, and tried not to picture his face. I didn’t want to see it right now anyhow — hurt or otherwise.
This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t.
“Vaughn, I have to hang up the phone,” he said. “But before I do, please just hear this. They told me I couldn’t go into heat too. They told me I couldn’t get pregnant. They were wrong about me. They had to have been, because it happened. You don’t think there’s even the slightest chance they were wrong about you too? You’d really rather believe that �
�� that I…”
I couldn’t answer. Couldn’t even muster the balls to finish his sentence for him, and speak the accusation that I was making.
He sniffed hard, and swallowed. “Go and see a doctor. Come back and see me. And just know that I haven’t ever lied to you. Not ever, and definitely not about this.”
The line clicked, and I was alone again.
Finally, my grip around the steering wheel loosened. My heart was pounding, and I didn’t want to open my eyes. Instead, I sank down lower into the driver’s seat, trying to process what I’d just heard. His crying didn’t make sense. His pregnancy didn’t make sense. None of it made sense — but after years and years of knowing for damn sure that I’d never be a father, the idea of getting Fin pregnant made even less sense than the rest.
All the same, he was my mate.
Shouldn’t I at least try to prove it…?
I gritted my teeth, finally opening my eyes. The parking lot was empty now, and the traffic was light. If I was quick, I might just catch one of the last walk-in appointments at the doctor’s office near my place.
The sooner I could get tested, the sooner I’d get my results — and the sooner I could start to move on from this entire sorry mess I’d gotten myself tangled up in.
///
One week later, I found myself tired and frustrated in the doctor’s waiting room. I hadn’t spoken to Finley since our last phone call — which was, in itself, very strange. For half a year I had gotten used to texting him almost constantly, and being without his voice or his updates felt like living in the silence of a vacuum. I even caught myself reaching to text him some mornings when I woke up, wondering how he was.
Then I’d remember what happened and I’d toss the phone back down again, burying my face in the pillow.
I had to hand it to fate. This was a particularly spiteful turn of events. First, I’d been handed a pretty omega and a side-order of loneliness at all my friends’ growing families. Then, my friendship with that omega had developed into something special. After worrying that he wouldn’t want me once he learned about my health, I had learned he had a similar condition, and it was like sitting through a sunrise. Hope began to color every part of my life. We understood each other on this very vital, difficult level.
Claiming My Omega: Blackwater Pack: Book 2 Page 16
