Page 89 of What We Don't Say: Part Two

The ache remains. My body wants touch, and Callie is somewhere close enough to hold. I pull on the soft pants Sloane left near the chair and leave Callie’s cardigan where she folded it after letting me borrow it for the evening.

I asked before taking it, and she kissed my cheek before telling me I could keep it until morning. The cardigan is still waiting where she left it, visible instead of buried beneath the blankets, and the sight gives me a small pulse of pride. I don’t need to steal pieces of her to make sure they remain mine.

The hallway is dim, and the living-room lamp throws a warm circle across the floorboards. I follow Callie’s scent toward it, moving quietly because the house has finally settled and I don’t want to disturb anyone who has managed to rest.

Dash is in the wide chair near the window with Callie asleep against him. She’s curled into his chest beneath a blanket, one leg folded under her while the other rests across his thighs. Her cheek lies near his collarbone, and one hand is loosely fisted in his shirt while his palm rests against her lower back beneath the edge of her cardigan.

The book in his other hand has fallen closed against the arm of the chair. His mouth is near her hair, as though he kissed her temple and stayed there, and her body is loose with the trust that only comes when she has stopped counting doors.

The room smells right with him holding her.

I stand in the doorway longer than I mean to, watching Callie’s slow breathing against his chest. Dash notices me and begins to shift, his hand lifting from her back as though making room still means removing himself.

“Don’t move,” I say, keeping my voice low enough that Callie only stirs against him. I cross the room and look at the empty place his hand left. “She smells settled.”

Dash glances down at her before returning his palm to the small of her back. The movement is careful, though it’s also familiar enough to tell me his body knows exactly where she wants him.

“I wasn’t trying to take her from you,” he says. His voice barely carries beyond the chair, and his attention stays on my face while he waits for the answer.

“I know.” I lower myself beside them until my knee touches the blanket over Callie’s legs. “You keep leaving after you come close.”

His expression shifts, though he doesn’t argue immediately. I reach for Callie’s free hand and slide my fingers between hers, pressing her knuckles against my cheek because her skin is cooler than mine.

Callie makes a sleepy sound and settles deeper into Dash. His hand spreads across her back on instinct, holding her steady until her breathing smooths again. He knows how to keep her comfortable, yet he still treats every invitation as though it has an ending he needs to decide for her.

“You come into the nest now,” I say, rubbing my thumb over Callie’s fingers. “You stay while everyone settles, then you leave before you fall asleep. Callie makes room beside her, and you keep choosing the edge.”

Dash looks down at Callie’s hand tangled with mine. “She has a lot of people reaching for her. Entering when she asks is one thing. Assuming I should still be there when she wakes is another.”

“She asks you to stay.” I kiss Callie’s knuckles, needing the contact while the warmth moves under my skin. “You keep deciding she only meant for a little while.”

His thumb moves once against her back. The tension in his jaw tells me he hears the difference, though he still looks toward the hallway as though distance is the safest gift he can offer.

“I’m trying to keep her from feeling crowded,” he says. “Every room changed when the rest of you arrived. I don’t want her to wake up and realize there’s nowhere left that belongs only to her.”

“You make her feel wanted, then leave before she can keep it.” My fingers tighten around hers before I make myself loosen them. “She notices when you’re gone.”

Dash breathes out slowly, his chest moving beneath Callie’s cheek. “I notice when she looks for Sloane after he leaves the room. I notice when she leans toward Idris before he touches her. I know she wants all of you close.”

“She wants you too.” The answer comes easily because Callie’s body says it every time Dash touches her. “She sleeps deeper when you stay.”

The warmth inside me swells while I speak, rolling through my belly before climbing into my chest. My skin prickles, and the sweetness of my scent thickens until Dash’s attention shifts fully toward me.

“You’re warmer than you were earlier,” he says, studying my face with the quiet Alpha focus that makes my pulse jump. His hand remains on Callie, and the sight of it helps me breathe through the rise. “Did you tell Sloane and Idris?”

“I told them this morning.” I rest my cheek against Callie’s hand and close my eyes for a moment. “It doesn’t feel like my heat. I keep leaning toward it, then the feeling settles again.”

Dash takes in the damp hair at my temples and the way my shirt clings to my chest. He gives me enough time to understand the sensation before reaching toward me, which makes it easier to stay where I am.

“An Omega’s body can spike hardest while a pack is changing shape,” he says. “The pull brings everyone closer and helps the body understand where each person belongs.”

The word belong presses against an old wound. Garrett treated my heat as though it should determine every choice in the house, and everyone’s fear made Callie disappear from rooms while they told themselves they were caring for me. I remember being made into the reason she had less space and less voice, and the warmth beneath my skin turns cold at the edges.

“I don’t want to be the center,” I whisper. My throat tightens, though I keep looking at Callie asleep against him. “Callie is the center. I just want to be loved.”

Dash watches me without rushing to answer. His free hand moves slowly from the chair and pauses beside my shoulder, giving me time before his knuckles brush my sleeve.

“Two things can be true at once,” he says. “Your body can need everyone focused on you during a spike, and Callie can still bethe heart of the pack. Your need doesn’t take love away from her.”