Page 53 of The Bright Omega

Piers nods once, completely unbothered. “Done.”

twenty-seven

Camelia

Ipush myself up against the mountain of pillows and actually manage it without cursing, gasping, or immediately wanting to die. Progress.

My watch says 3:17 PM. I only meant to close my eyes for twenty minutes after lunch, but apparently my body had other plans. Ten days in this house. Two full weeks since that crazy alpha bitch shoved me into traffic.

Sitting up feels like something a person does, now, rather than something a person survives. I stretch carefully, testing the soreness. It’s still there but it’s manageable now. Manageable enough that I didn’t need Vanessa’s help this morning when I got out of bed. The sturdy little beta nurse aide had been an absolute godsend for the first week and a half, hauling my sorry ass in and out of the bathtub, onto the toilet, and back into bed like it was nothing. This morning I told her I thought I could handle things on my own. She gave me a proud little nod, said she’d check in tomorrow anyway, and left. I’m going to miss her quiet competence. Not so much her ruthless efficiency with a washcloth.

Belinda has been spoiling me rotten with food. Every time I turn around there’s another tray of homemade soup, perfectly seared salmon, or fresh bread still warm from the oven. And Beck... Beck made pancakes and stood at the foot of the bed the entire time I ate them, practically vibrating, like my appetite was a victory he'd manifested all on his own. He’s mentioned it every single day since.

I’m finally off the heavy pain meds too. Just occasional ibuprofen or acetaminophen now, and even that feels like overkill most days. The biggest change, though? The bed.

Every morning for the last ten days I’ve woken up to one or two new brightly colored pillows added to the pile. Soft teal, hot pink, sunshine yellow, deep emerald. One of the alphas has been sneaking them in like a magpie building a nest. I sniff the pillow closest to me, trying to figure out who, but it smells like cotton and dye, and it breaks my heart.

What started as a very tasteful, very neutral guest bed has slowly transformed into something that looks like it’s trying hard, and almost succeeding, to be a miniature of my loud, colorful apartment. It’s damn-near a full nest now, something my omega had nothing to do with but is still taking all the credit for. I run my hand over a particularly fluffy magenta pillow and smile.

I carefully swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand slowly. I glance at my reflection in the mirror, fluff my hair into something presentable, then wander out of the guest suite and into the hallway, letting my nose guide me. Their combined scents are stronger out here, all of it layered together in a way that’s become familiar. After nearly two weeks with them, the mixture of their joined scents still makes my stomach flip. I follow the pull like a compass until I reach the main living room and stop.

Beck is sprawled on the floor in front of the massive TV, controller in hand, leaning forward like the fate of the universe depends on this Mario Kart race. “Piers, you absolute traitor! You can’t just quit when I’m about to destroy you!”

Piers is sitting on the couch right behind him, phone pressed to his ear, looking every bit the pack alpha even in a simple black t-shirt and gray sweatpants. He glances down at Beck with a raised eyebrow and nods at something the person on the call is saying.

Finn is tucked into the corner armchair with his laptop open on his thighs and a notepad beside him, scribbling something with a focused little frown. He looks relaxed in a way I’ve rarely seen.

And Leith… Leith is on the far end of the big sectional couch, one arm draped along the back, scrolling through his phone with that quiet, watchful stillness he always carries. There’s no tension in his shoulders for once.

No one is hovering. No one is asking if I need anything or watching me like I might break. They’re just existing together. Teasing, working, playing, being a pack. This is the first time I’ve seen all of them like this. No hospital beeps, no crisis, no careful tiptoeing around the injured omega. They’re four men who clearly know how to coexist in their own space. It feels intimate in a way nothing else has yet.

Beck glances up first and his whole face lights up. “Well hello, sleeping beauty. Look who finally decided to join the living.”

The others turn toward me too. Finn’s eyes soften. Leith’s gaze lingers. Piers says something into his phone and then sets it down completely. All four of them are looking at me now.

I glance down at myself and smirk. I’m wearing one of Piers’ oversized black t-shirts that hits me mid-thigh and a pair of yellow panties. Nothing else. Yeah… not an accident. I may still be healing, but I’m still me. It never hurts to remind them who they’re dealing with.

Finn moves first, quickly shutting his laptop and setting it aside like he’s about to jump up. But Piers is faster. He’s already on his feet and crossing the room to me before Finn can stand.

“You’re up and moving.” Piers offers me his arm. “That’s a good sign. Means you’re finally on the right side of healing.”

I take his arm, letting him escort me further into the room. His skin is warm under my fingers, and that deep amber and sea salt scent wraps around me like a claim. My omega practically sighs and I have to remind myself that I’m still annoyed about the tattoo.

Beck pats the cushion behind him. The second I sit, he leans back against my legs like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Want to play Mario Kart?” he asks, tilting his head back to grin up at me. “You can be anyone you want. Even Luigi.”

I snort. “Is he your favorite?”

“Obviously.”

“But everyone likes Mario,” I tease. “Or if you’re evil, Wario.”

Beck’s laugh comes easy. “Luigi and I have a lot in common, actually.”

“Like what?”

“Tall. Athletic. Devastatingly handsome. You know.”

I burst out laughing. Even Leith’s mouth twitches.