Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The music beat like a heart in the Mattews mansion. Strobe lights cut through the darkness, illuminating sweaty bodies moving to an electronic beat that rattled the windows. The air felt tense, thick with perfume mixed with alcohol and a primal scent.

In a corner, Taissa and Van shared a cigarette. They were both betas, so they couldn't sense the growing tension in the room.

"This is clearly going to get out of hand," Taissa muttered, her gaze fixed on the party hostess, Lottie, who was dressed in white, glassy-eyed, and dancing hypnotically. Her sweet omega scent felt like a magnet. "I think next time we'll stay home."

"And miss the drama," Van smiled ironically. "He looks at Nat; he can't take his eyes off Lottie."

And it was true. Natalie, with her leather jacket and defiant Alpha demeanor, followed Lottie's every move like a hawk, protecting her from the gaze of the other alphas in the room. Her own scent—gasoline and dried weed—formed a shield around her omega.

But the real drama was in the kitchen.

Jackie was drunk. It wasn't elegant and flirtatious, it was desperation. Jeff, the beta she was dating out of convenience, dumped her. And her body, her damned omega body, reminded her that her heat was approaching. Every pore of her skin screamed, making her sensitive and needy. The scent of burnt sugar and anguish emanating from her was a flag of vulnerability.

Shauna was there; she found her by the sink, trembling and trying to drink water to calm herself. Jackie's scent hit her like a punch to the stomach. As an Alpha, it was a direct call to the carnal. A scent that awakened something dark and possessive inside her.

"You should go home," Shauna said, her voice hoarser than usual. Her own scent—damp earth and forest—intensified, intertwining with Jackie's in the stale kitchen air.

"So what am I going to do there, Shauna?" Jackie replied, her eyes shining with tears and alcohol. "Wait for it to blow over? It's always the same... I feel like a mere piece of meat."

"You know you're not a piece of meat," Shauna growled, moving closer. The proximity was a mistake. A dangerous thing. She could feel the heat emanating from the omega's body.

"No?" Jackie laughed bitterly. "Then what am I? Tell me. You always have the answers."

And then, something snapped. The attraction that had always been there… simply exploded. It wasn't a tender kiss. It was more of a struggle. Jackie pushed Shauna against the refrigerator, and Shauna grabbed her wrists. Their gazes locked, filled with desire.

"Always so perfect…" Shauna hissed. "The golden omega. Everyone loves you."

"Do you hate me for that?" Jackie shouted, feeling her heat beginning, trying to provoke Shauna.

"I don't hate you…" Shauna roared near her ear, pulling away slightly to look into her eyes and move closer to devour her lips.

It was a brutal kiss, a battle of tongues and teeth. Shauna took control, her hands running up and down Jackie's sides, possessive, marking her territory. Jackie moaned, her resistance evaporating from the alcohol and the need her heat provoked. Her scent grew sweeter, more inviting.

“Shauna…” she pleaded, between desperate kisses.

There were no words, only urgency. Shauna led her to a dark pantry filled with the smells of cleaning. The door slammed shut, isolating the sound of the party.

What happened there was fast, dirty, and primal. Only panting inside the room, the sound of ripping fabric, and the muffled music of the party. Shauna had an urgency she wouldn't admit. Jackie was lost in the fog of her heat and alcohol, clinging to Shauna's arms as an involuntary, violent climax swept through her.

She moaned Shauna's name like a prayer.

Shauna, on the other hand, was blinded by her alpha instinct and years of repression; she didn't think of the consequences. Only the animal need to possess, mark, and quench the fire Jackie had lit within her.

There was no condom or rationality. Only the creaking of shelves, the smell of wet earth and burnt sugar fused in the darkness, and two bodies that used to forget who they were. When they finished, they separated panting, their clothes in disarray and their gazes averted.

Reality hit them.

Shauna stepped back, ashamed of her own loss of control. Jackie covered herself with her arms, trembling, shame and confusion clouding her face. There were no touches, no promises, just the sound of their ragged breathing and the knowledge that, in a burst of instinct, they had probably changed their lives. Shauna adjusted herself as best she could and left the room without looking back, leaving Jackie alone.

It was an animal thing, not a love thing. And without knowing it, from its consequences would be born a story that neither of them had sought. But that, deep down, both of them desired to the depths of their beings.

Four weeks later

Jackie was pale, staring at the small cross on the pregnancy test she held with trembling hands. The world was fading away around her. A single night. A brutal oversight in the middle of her heat and the party at Lottie's house.

She touched her stomach, still flat. Inside, the consequences of the outburst were growing. A baby. The daughter of her best friend, the alpha who had been there through thick and thin, but for one night… Became her downfall… Or perhaps, her only salvation.

Shauna's scent, that forest smell she now associated with that night, seemed to permeate the room. And Jackie knew her life was probably over.

The bathroom at Wiskayok High School smelled of cheap disinfectant and the perfumes of omegas preening in front of mirrors.

Jackie looked at her reflection. Her face, normally rosy and perfect, was pale, with dark circles under her eyes. She had a pregnancy test hidden in her backpack; it seemed to weigh a ton.

She managed to avoid Shauna for a month. She ignored her calls, her texts, her glances filled with questions and a tension Jackie now understood all too well. Shauna, as an Alpha, could probably sense the change in her scent, the subtle hormonal shift that foreshadowed the outcome of that night at Lottie's house. But Jackie wasn't ready; fear paralyzed her.

She couldn't tell Lottie, much less her parents. She needed someone cool, practical. Someone who wouldn't get caught up in the drama. Someone like Taissa Turner.

She found Tai in the library, studying alone at a table in the far corner. Always studying, always with a plan. As a Beta, her scent was neutral. Jackie slid into the chair across from her, her hands shaking slightly.

Tai looked up, her eyes immediately studying Jackie.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." And Shauna? She seems like a beast searching for you everywhere.

"That's why I'm here," Jackie whispered, swallowing. She lowered her voice even further. "Tai... I need you... Don't get upset."

Tai slowly closed her book. "Tell me."

Jackie took a deep breath, staring at the wooden table. “During the party at Lottie house. Shauna and I… In a room…” She couldn’t keep talking. But instead, she opened her backpack and pulled out the pregnancy test, sliding it across the table toward Tai.

The silence that followed was thick and charged. Tai took the test, then Jackie, then the test again. His expression didn’t change, but Jackie saw the flash of disbelief in his eyes, followed by a quick calculation.

“Fuck, Jackie,” Tai muttered, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Are you sure?”

“I took another one this morning… It’s positive.”

“Does Shauna know?”

“No!” Jackie’s response was a desperate whisper. “And she can’t know… Not yet.”

Tai leaned forward, his voice a thread of serious, urgent sound. “Jackie, she’s an Alpha.” You're not going to hide forever, her instinct will lead her straight to you...

"I know!" Jackie buried her face in her hands. "But I'm scared, Tai. What if...? What if he rejects me? Or worse... What if... He forces me...?"

She didn't finish the sentence. The "If he forces me" hung in the air. Alpha/omega dynamics were complex and, at times, even dangerous.

Tai looked around, making sure they were alone. "Listen. You have options. All of them complicated, but you have them. The first thing is to confirm this with a doctor. I'll accompany you."

Jackie felt a wave of gratitude so great she almost burst into tears. Tai, the practical, the ruthless, was being her anchor through this problem.

"And what will I do about Shauna?"

"Nothing for now," Tai said firmly. "You decide when and how to tell her. It's your body... But Jackie has the right to know." She stared at her. “You know sooner or later, he’ll know. Alpha instincts are no joke, especially when it comes to his pup.”

At that moment, the library door opened. Both of them instinctively turned their heads. It was Van, looking for Tai. But behind her, at the end of the hall, Jackie spotted a familiar figure: Shauna. She was leaning against the lockers, her arms crossed, her gaze fixed on the library door. Her expression was a mix of concern, confusion, and a suppressed ferocity that made Jackie’s stomach turn.

Shauna didn’t need to hear the conversation. She could feel Jackie’s anxiety, could smell the fear. And she was waiting.

"You have to go out the back," Tai said in a low, urgent voice. "Go home. I'll take care of Van and distract Shauna. But this... It's just a prologue, Jackie."

Jackie picked up her backpack with trembling hands. She slipped between the shelves toward the back exit, feeling Shauna's gaze burning into her back like a physical weight. She knew Tai was right; this was just beginning. A storm was approaching, and within it lay the secret that would change everything.

Two weeks later.

The park was strangely empty for a Friday afternoon. Jackie sat on a distant bench near the soccer field where they used to practice. The cold wind prickled her skin, but she preferred the chill to the stifling heat she felt at home.

She followed Tai's advice. The doctor's appointment was scheduled for Monday. But with each passing hour, the secret felt heavier. And Shauna… She was a constant presence, even in her absence. Jackie felt her. A tingling on the back of her neck, a tension in the air that only eased when she was away from the school, away from the places Shauna frequented.

"I thought I'd find you here."

The voice made her jump. It wasn't the voice she'd expected; it was softer, but with an edge of concern. Natalie Scartorccio stood in front of her, her worn jeans and slouchy posture. Her scent of gasoline and freedom was a stark contrast to the oppressive fog of fear that surrounded Jackie.

“Nat, I…” Jackie said, looking away. “I’m not in the mood to talk.”

“I know.” Natalie sat down next to her on the bench. She lit a cigarette and offered one to Jackie, who waved it away. “Taissa told me.”

Jackie froze. “What? I told her not to tell anyone!”

“Relax, Taylor. She didn’t tell me all the details.” Natalie exhaled a puff of smoke. “She just said you were in a bind… And that Shauna was responsible. You don’t have to be a genius to connect the dots, especially after Lottie’s party. We all felt the tension.”

Jackie shrugged. It was true: in such a small community, side dramas were a public spectacle.

“Nat, I don’t know what to do,” Jackie confessed, her voice cracking. It was easier to admit it with Nat, who always seemed to live on the sidelines.

"Look." Natalie crushed out her cigar. "Alphas are complicated. Possessive, stubborn... But Shauna... Shauna isn't like the others. She's a mess, Jackie, I've seen her. She's not angry with you, she's just scared... She thinks she did something terrible to you."

Jackie looked at her in surprise. She'd never thought about Shauna's feelings from that perspective. She'd only thought about her own fear. "Scared?"

"Yes. Because she loves you, in her own clumsy, dysfunctional way, but she loves you. What happened at the party wasn't just heat or alcohol... It was something that had been simmering for years."

"And that makes things better?" Jackie asked bitterly.

"No," Nat admitted. "But it means you're not alone in this. Running away doesn't solve anything; it only makes everything harder when it finally explodes."

“I’m afraid of his reaction,” Jackie whispered.

“I’m also afraid of what might happen,” Natalie said with brutal honesty. “But fear is part of the package. If you choose to have it…” Her gaze briefly dropped to Jackie’s stomach. “You’ll have to learn to face things that are scarier than a confused alpha.”

Before Jackie could answer, a car screeched to a halt in the nearby parking lot. It was Van’s old sedan. Taissa rolled down the passenger window, her face serious. But it was the person who got out of the back seat who took Jackie’s breath away.

Shauna.

She looked pale, with dark circles under her eyes deeper than Jackie's, and she felt a pang in her chest. Shauna stopped a few feet away, as if afraid to get closer.

"Tai told me," Shauna said, her voice hoarse from lack of sleep. "She said it was better if I found out from her before... you know, I did something stupid."

Taissa stood by the car, her arms crossed, acting as a guard. Natalie got up from the bench and joined her, giving them an illusion of privacy.

"Jackie..." Shauna took an unsteady step. "I'm sorry, for what I did at the party... I know I should have been more careful... I'm so sorry."

Jackie looked at her. She no longer saw the fierce, confident alpha. She saw the girl she'd grown up with, scared and vulnerable. And suddenly, her own fear shrank a little.

"It's my fault, too." "I didn't reject you..." Jackie murmured, lowering her gaze. "I didn't reject you..."

"Are you..." Shauna couldn't finish the question. Her gaze fell on Jackie's stomach, and a torrent of emotions crossed her face: fear, wonder, and something that looked awfully like hope.

Jackie said nothing. She just nodded slowly, a tear escaping her cheek.

Shauna closed her eyes for a second, as if absorbing the blow. When she opened them, there was a new determination in them. She took another step, and then another until she was in front of Jackie. With a trembling hand, she stroked Jackie's cheek, wiping the tear away with her thumb.

"I won't force you to do anything..." Shauna whispered, her tone now firm. "It's your decision... But if you want to have him... You know you won't be alone. I'll be here... No matter what."

It was the simplest, most profound promise Jackie had ever heard. It wasn't a speech of love, nor a dramatic declaration. It was an oath, and in that moment, as she looked down from Taissa and Natalie, Jackie knew that, despite her fear and confusion, she wasn't alone. The road would be difficult, but she no longer had to walk it alone. She took Shauna's hand and held it tightly, nodding silently. The storm hadn't subsided.

Monday

The clinic smelled of disinfectant. Shauna sat next to Jackie on an uncomfortable plastic chair, stiff as a board. Since Friday's conversation in the park, where Jackie admitted she was scared and Shauna promised she wouldn't leave her alone, a tense but necessary truce had settled between them. Jackie held a small plastic strip in her hands, which had already worked hours before, but this was final. Official. The office door opened.

"Jacqueline Taylor," the nurse said in a neutral voice.

Shauna stood up immediately, as if she were a bodyguard. Jackie took her hand and noticed Shauna's fingers were cold. It was a small comfort to know she wasn't the only one terrified. The doctor, a middle-aged woman with glasses and a professional expression, reviewed her medical records.

"The blood test was positive, Jacqueline. But we're going to confirm it with an ultrasound to see how everything is progressing." "She said, her eyes moving from Jackie to Shauna, who stood beside the table like a soldier at her post.

Jackie could only nod, her throat too tight to speak. The cold gel on her belly made her shiver. Shauna gripped her hand tighter, her gaze fixed on the black and gray screen of the ultrasound.

The silence in the room was absolute, broken only by the faint hum of the machine. Then the sound began to fill the space; a fast, strong rhythm, like tiny gallops.

Whoosh - whoosh - whoosh - whoosh.

The doctor smiled, a small but genuine smile.

"There you have it," she said, pointing to a small dot in the center of the screen. "That's the baby's heartbeat. It seems to be progressing normally. You're approximately eight weeks along."

The word "Pregnant" floated in the room. Shauna stopped breathing. Her eyes, fixed on the tiny dot throbbing with disproportionate force, were filled with such profound wonder that it momentarily erased all fear and confusion. It wasn't something abstract. It was real. A heart beating. 

Jackie followed her gaze, and a sob, half relief, half terror, escaped her lips. The tears she'd been holding back since the party began to fall silently.

"Is the… okay?" Shauna managed to ask, her voice barely a hoarse whisper.

"The heartbeat is strong and clear," the doctor confirmed. "That's a good sign."

When the doctor left the room to give them a moment, the silence returned, but now it was different. Loaded not only with fear, but with the overwhelming reality of that sound.

Shauna carefully sat down on the edge of the table, still holding Jackie's hand. She was no longer looking at the screen, but at Jackie.

"It's a heartbeat," Shauna murmured, as if she couldn't believe it.

Jackie nodded, wiping her cheeks with the back of her free hand. "Our heartbeat."

That word, "Our," changed something in the air; it was something between the two of them.

Shauna raised her trembling hand and, with a shyness that wasn't characteristic of her, placed it on Jackie's still-flat stomach. There was nothing to feel, except the warmth of her skin and the echo of that sound in their heads.

"We're going to do this," Shauna said, and this time it didn't sound empty, but rather a vow born from the same instinct that had united them that night. "Whatever happens."

Jackie closed her eyes, feeling the weight of Shauna's hand. The road ahead was terrifying, uncertain, and full of obstacles, but in that moment, in the cold clinic room, they had two certainties: the rapid heartbeat of a new beginning and the other's hand to steady her during the fall.

Three months later.

The Shipman family's living room had never been so quiet and yet so tense. Shauna felt like she was ten years old again, about to confess that she and Jackie had broken a window while they were playing soccer. But this time it wasn't a window. It was someone's life.

Beside her on the couch was Jackie, who was squeezing her hand with a force that nearly cut off her circulation. The small bump in her belly, still subtle under a loose sweater, seemed to weigh a ton under her parents' gaze.

It had been Deborah Shipman's idea. After weeks of noticing Shauna's paleness, her nervousness, and Jackie's furtive visits (who no longer came laughing and chatting, but quiet and with a newfound seriousness), she had sat them down at the table after dinner and asked what was going on, with that frightening calm that mothers have.

And Jackie, with a courage that surprised Shauna, had been the one to speak.

"I'm pregnant," she said, her voice clear but shaky. "And Shauna is the other parent."
The silence that followed was thick, so thick you could cut it with a knife. Mr. Shipman put down his coffee cup with a bang. Mrs. Shipman brought a hand to her mouth, her eyes, so similar to Shauna's, widening as they scanned her daughter and then Jackie, whom they had always considered a second child.

Shauna expected screams, disappointment, and fury. But instead, her mother slowly stood up, approached Jackie, and to everyone's surprise, hugged her.

"Oh... Honey..." Mrs. Shipman whispered, her voice breaking. "And are you okay?"

Jackie, who had prepared defenses for the attack, collapsed in the hug, nodding against the woman's shoulder as she sobbed softly. "I'm scared," she confessed, a simple, brutal truth.

"It's normal to be afraid," Deborah said, stroking her hair. "You know you're not alone."

Then, she looked at her daughter. "Shauna?"

Shauna stood up immediately like a soldier. "I... I'll support you, Mom. No matter what... It's my responsibility."

Her father was a man of few words; he didn't say a word. He just leaned forward, his movements slow and measured. Then he stood up, his height seeming to fill the entire room. His gaze was cold and hard as steel; not on Jackie, but fixed on Shauna.

"Do you have any idea..." he said, his voice low, so icy it made Jackie shiver. "...about what you just did?"

Shauna met his gaze, taking a defensive stance. "Dad, I..."

“Shauna, do you think this is a game?” He interrupted, not raising his voice, but every word that came out was like a whiplash. “A teenage game? You’re an alpha… You know Jackie’s parents are traditional. Thomas will want you to marry her.”

“It wasn’t something we planned,” Jackie whispered, her voice trembling.

“That makes it worse, Jaqueline.” He looked at her, and his disapproval was like a whiplash. His gaze shifted to Shauna, not as his daughter, but as something flawed. “Thomas won’t forgive him. He’ll see my daughter as an unprincipled alpha who took advantage of his daughter’s vulnerability… He’s a problem.”

“Problem?” Shauna’s voice cracked. “He’s your grandson…”

Mr. Shipman grimaced as if the word tasted bitter. “That child is a consequence… One who will have to be raised knowing that his conception was a mistake.”

Without another word, he left the room. There was no need for him to scream. His silent disappointment was a wall between them, higher and colder than any insult.

Deborah approached, her face pale and conflicted. "Oh, girls..." was all she managed to say, but her gaze also betrayed a pang of shame at the scandal her husband had caused.

Jackie began to cry, and Shauna put her arm around her, feeling the world they knew shatter. The battle would be against prejudice, reputation, and the cold disappointment in her own father's eyes.

Meanwhile, the meeting with the Taylors was... different. In Mr. Taylor's wooden study, the atmosphere was icy. Jackie, once again, was the brave person in the situation. But this time, Shauna didn't stay silent as she had before. She stood beside Jackie, shoulder to shoulder, defying Mr. Taylor's withering gaze.

"It's my fault." "Shauna said, before Mr. Taylor could say anything. "It was me. Jackie isn't to blame for anything."

"Of course she isn't!" Mr. Taylor exploded. "You're an Alpha! You should have been in control!"

"Stop it!" Jackie's voice cut through the air like a knife. Everyone stared at her. She had never raised her voice like that. "It was both of ours... A-and we'll have the baby."

Mrs. Taylor, who had been crying silently, stood up and approached her daughter. Her gaze wasn't on her bulge, but on her eyes. She sensed fear but also a fierce determination she hadn't seen before.

"Do you love her?" she asked her daughter, whispering, but everyone could hear.

Jackie looked at Shauna, who was watching her with a devotion that was impossible to fake. "Yes," Jackie replied without hesitation. "I love her."

Mrs. Taylor nodded slowly. Then she turned to her husband. "Thomas... She's our daughter, and that one," she pointed at Jackie's belly. "Will be our grandson. Are we going to kick them out? Or are we going to help them?"

Thomas looked at his wife, then at his daughter, and finally at Shauna. He saw the firmness in the young Alpha's stance, the way she protected Jackie. It wasn't the situation he had dreamed of for his daughter, but he couldn't deny the loyalty he saw.

That night there was an awkward but civilized dinner. Shauna felt a strange peace. Her father wasn't there. He felt ashamed of the situation his daughter was in. This situation wasn't perfect; there were challenges, gossip in town, stares. But they had a roof over their heads. Food on the table. And most importantly, they had hesitant support.

As she helped wash the dishes, Deborah approached her daughter.

"It's going to be a girl," Shauna said, suddenly drying one of the Taylors' plates gently.

Her mother smiled, a genuine, warm smile. "Girls are strong. Like you... And like Jackie."

Shauna looked at Jackie, who sat smiling at something Mrs. Taylor was saying. She knew that, against all odds, everything would be okay. Because love sometimes comes in complicated forms.

Five months later

The Taylors' garden had always been immaculate, like everything else in that house. Jackie now had a more noticeable curve under her clothes; every day she settled into a lawn chair with a blanket over her legs. The mid-afternoon sun was warm, but her mother insisted she not get cold.

At 4:00 PM, without fail, the sound of an old bicycle could be heard. It didn't matter if it was raining, if someone was in the way, or if she even had soccer practice. Shauna would appear; it was a very predictable ritual.

Shauna would walk through the garden gate and drop her bike onto the lawn. She'd come straight from school, her backpack slung over her shoulders, often with a small gift: wildflowers she'd bought, a book Jackie wanted to read, or just some candy the omega had been craving.

"Hi," Shauna would say, her voice softening only for Jackie.

"Hi." "Jackie replied, and for a moment all the weight of the prying eyes and gossip that had been spreading vanished.

Shauna knelt beside the lawn chair. She didn't kiss Jackie directly on the lips, not in front of her parents' house, where Mrs. Taylor might be watching from the kitchen window. Instead, she placed a warm kiss on her cheek and placed a hand with infinite delicacy on her girlfriend's belly.

"How are you today, Callie?" she would ask, and her Alpha face, which was serious most of the time, would light up with tenderness, a tenderness Jackie knew was only for her.

"You're more active than yesterday," Jackie would reply, taking Shauna's hand and guiding it to the spot where she had just felt a kick.

The contact was electric. Shauna held her breath, waiting. When the small kick landed against her palm, a wide, unguarded smile crossed her face. It felt like a miracle, her miracle.

In the afternoons, Shauna would curl up on the grass next to Jackie, telling her about her day. The classes, the silly school rumors, how Van, Taissa, Natalie, and Lottie had her back, and how her friends deflected uncomfortable questions with glares. They talked about everything while the sun went down; it was their bubble, their little world where it was just the two of them and little Callie.

Occasionally, Mrs. Taylor came out with a tray of cookies and two glasses of milk. Her gaze was softer than before, albeit with reservations. She accepted Shauna's constant presence as necessary, but she couldn't deny the devotion with which the Alpha cared for her daughter.

"Your father says you should be studying for your finals, Shauna," Mrs. Taylor said, placing the tray on a small table.

Shauna only managed to nod; over these months, her relationship with her father had worsened every day. "I am. Jackie helps me study," she replied with a respect that wasn't feigned.

And that was true. In the afternoons, after their conversation, the two would open their books. Jackie, often prevented by nausea and fatigue, watched as Shauna underlined texts and explained concepts of history or literature with infinite patience.

"You have to graduate, Shipman," Jackie said, half jokingly, half seriously. "Someone has to support this family."

Shauna looked at her, her eyes filled with a silent promise. "I'll do it, whatever it takes for you."

When the sky began to turn orange, the Alpha began to pack her things. Saying goodbye was always the hardest part.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Shauna said, kissing Jackie's lips for a fleeting moment.

"Always," Jackie whispered, looking at her with loving eyes.

And so, Shauna left, returning home to her own family who, even though only her mother supported her, still carried the weight of expectation and silent disappointment. But on the journey, in the quiet of her room, Shauna remembered the feeling of the little kick in her hand. She knew that every ride on her bike to the Taylors' house, every smile and stolen kiss, every minute of studying in the evening light, was another building block in the future she was building for the three of them.

Jackie, for her part, stayed in the garden until the cool of the evening forced her inside. She stroked her belly, feeling the loneliness that always came after Shauna left, but also a deep peace. Because she knew, no matter what anyone else said, she had Shauna, and she would always come back.

Seven months later

The omega instinct had arrived silently. First, it was a discomfort from the scented sheets from her mother's laundry. Then, an absurd need to reorganize the closet over and over again. But in recent weeks, the urge had become more urgent.

Scent

Jackie needed a specific smell. Shauna's scent.

One afternoon after Shauna left, Jackie found an old sweatshirt Shauna had "forgotten" at her house weeks ago. The sweatshirt was gray, faded, with the soccer team logo almost faded. The omega brought it to her face and breathed deeply.

Wet earth, forest after the rain.

Calm washed over her immediately. It was more effective than any herbal tea or meditation her mother suggested. But that wasn't enough; her instinct screamed that she needed more, that this wasn't complete.

The next day, when Shauna arrived, she found Jackie fidgeting, moving the cushions on the living room couch with a frustrated expression.

"Jackie, are you okay?" Shauna asked, dropping her backpack on the floor.

"No..." Jackie replied, her voice trembling not from sadness, but from need. Nothing smells right, everything is wrong...

Shauna understood instantly. It wasn't a mere whim. It was the nest. It was the deeply rooted instinct of pregnant omegas to prepare a safe space for the offspring. A space that smelled of security, of the Alpha.

"It's okay," Shauna said, with a calmness that reassured Jackie. "What do you need?"

"Your smell," Jackie whispered, embarrassed. "I need... Things that smell like you."

Shauna nodded, unfazed. "Go to your room and wait for me there." "She said goodbye with a soft kiss on the lips."

Fifteen minutes later, Shauna returned with a bag of clothes. She didn't ask her parents. She simply went upstairs to her room and had gathered what Jackie needed: T-shirts that still had her scent, her workout clothes, a denim jacket Shauna used to lend Jackie when she was cold, and lastly, the most precious thing, the pillow from her own bed.

"Does this help?" Shauna asked, holding out the bag.

Jackie took one of the T-shirts and pressed it to her face. A wave of calm so intense it almost knocked her over. She nodded, tears of gratitude welling in her eyes. "Too much."

With renewed energy, Jackie removed the clean sheets and replaced them with Shauna's jacket and T-shirt. She placed the pillow in the center, surrounding it with the rest of the clothes, forming a protective circle. It was a mess, a nest of rags that would have seemed crazy to anyone else, but to Jackie, it was perfect.

When she was done, she crawled into the center of the nest, surrounded by Shauna's scent, and for the first time in a week, she sighed with pure and utter peace. Callie gave a soft stamp of approval. Shauna came over and sat on the edge of the bed, not disturbing the space. She reached out her hand, and Jackie took it, squeezing it.

"Better?" Shauna asked, her voice a whisper.

"Perfect," Jackie replied, shyly approaching Shauna and planting a small kiss on her lips. "Now it smells like our home."

From that day on, the ritual changed. Shauna arrived every day at 4:00 PM, greeted Jackie's parents with a brief courtesy, and then went straight up to the room. There was Jackie, waiting for her in her nest, surrounded by Shauna's clothes, which were discreetly rotated to keep the scent fresh and strong.

Sometimes, they would lie there for hours, Jackie on Shauna's chest while she read aloud from class notes, talking in whispers, or simply kissing for long periods. It was their safe space.

The nest wasn't a pile of clothes; it was a statement. A territory marked not with violence, but with love and need. Shauna understood that her role wasn't simply to protect, but equally to provide. To provide comfort, security, and her own existence so that the omega and the baby could be at ease.

But one afternoon, Shauna arrived, quieter than usual. She didn't bring flowers or chocolate. She sat on the edge of the nest, carefully resting her forehead on the mountain of sweaters that served as a barrier.

"Shauna?" Jackie reached out and buried her hand in her dark hair. She was tense.

"My dad got the contract," Shauna murmured. "The construction contract in town. He's moving there in two weeks... He wants us to go with him..."

The air escaped Jackie's lungs. Leave. Go away from Wiskayok. Away from her. "What did you tell him?" she asked, trying not to sound shrill.

"I told him I couldn't." Shauna finally looked up, her eyes filled with an inner storm. “I told him you and the baby needed to be near the doctor, near your family… He got so angry, he said I was choosing a whim over the family’s future.”

“It’s not a whim,” Jackie whispered, squeezing Shauna’s hand. Her Omega instinct roared in rebellion at the mere thought of being separated from her safe territory, the source of her calm.

“I know.” Shauna closed her eyes. “But he’s my father… You know it’s difficult.”

Jackie tugged at her gently. “Come here.”

“I don’t want to mess it up…” Shauna protested weakly.

“You’ve been here before… And you’re the most important thing in the nest, idiot,” Jackie said with a tenderness she only used on herself. “Come on.”

Shauna relented, carefully slipping into the circle of clothes, settling in behind Jackie, surrounding her scent of burnt sugar and milk, now mingling with her own. It was the most soothing combination in the world.

"We're not leaving," Jackie declared, with a firmness that came from deep within her. "You, Callie, and I are staying here, together. Your dad will have to understand that."

Shauna said nothing, just tightened her hug. The tension in her shoulders began to ease, dissolved by Jackie's warmth and the protective barrier of the nest.

So, Shauna spoke to her father and managed to stay with Jackie, living with the Taylors but with the promise of looking for a job.

Rumors of the official visit came through Taissa, of course. A text on Shauna's cell phone. "The squad is arriving tomorrow at 3. Get her ready. And tell Jackie's mom to hide any valuables."

Shauna nervously told Jackie. The nest had been her sanctuary, an intimate space. The idea of ​​anyone else seeing it, even her friends, seemed like a violation of her privacy.

"They can't see it." "Jackie said immediately, with a firmness she didn't admit. Her Omega instinct bristled at the idea of ​​anyone else seeing that space. "You can come, but you'll stay in the living room. I'll go downstairs."

Shauna nodded in relief. She didn't want them to see such a vulnerable and private place either.

The next day at 3:00 PM, the Taylors' normally immaculate living room was invaded. Van and Taissa arrived first with food.

Lottie and Natalie arrived later, both carrying bags of baby clothes and crushed ice "for the ankles."

Jackie was already settled on the couch; no one could guess that under her sweater, she was wearing one of Shauna's T-shirts.

Shauna stood by her side, like a sentry. She served soft drinks, intercepted overly sweet donuts, and glared at anyone who might make a comment that stressed Jackie out.

"And Jackie, do they treat you like a queen here?" Natalie asked with a mocking but not malicious smile.

"Let's just say yes," Jackie replied, smiling and discreetly adjusting her sweater. The scent of wet earth, subtle but constant, kept her calm amidst the hustle and bustle.

The visit was noisy and chaotic. Van and Taissa were arguing with Shauna, while Lottie, on the other hand, handed Jackie a blanket, unfolding it and placing it over Jackie's legs.

"It's heavier," she explained in a low tone. "Pressure helps with cramps. My grandmother always did."

"Thanks, Lottie." She felt relieved by the simple and practical gesture.

In another moment of general distraction, Taissa approached the sofa. "Are you really feeling okay, Jackie?" she asked with her Beta gaze, practical and perceptive.

Jackie nodded, unconsciously touching her stomach. "Yes. It's... A lot sometimes. But I'm fine."

Taissa's gaze followed Shauna's, who was heatedly arguing with Van about the soccer team's lineup. "She's all mixed up, but she'd protect you with her life. It shows."

"I know that perfectly, Tai," Jackie whispered, and it was the deepest truth she knew.

When the group finally left, promising to return soon, Jackie was exhausted but smiling. Shauna helped her up the stairs, slowly and carefully.

As she stepped through the door to her bedroom, Jackie sighed with relief. The air was thick with Shauna's scent, strong and comforting. She went straight to the bed, the circle of clothes her refuge, and sank into it, letting the scent envelop her like a hug, washing away the stress of socializing.

Shauna lay down beside her, watching her. "Was it worth it?" she asked.

Jackie nodded, her eyes closed. "Yes, but this is more worth it," she said, burying her face in Shauna's neck.

Jackie's mother watched. She always did, and what she saw filled her with a quiet unease. Shauna was devoted and constant, a walking clock of punctuality. But there was one thing missing, something every mother of an Omega understood on a visceral level: The mark.

One afternoon, as Shauna helped Jackie down the stairs with exaggerated tenderness, Mrs. Taylor stopped her in the kitchen.

"Shauna, just a moment," she said, drying her hands on her apron. Her voice was calm, but her eyes scrutinized the young alpha. "Jackie seems... Calm. Thanks to you."

Shauna nodded nervously under that gaze. "I'm doing what I can."

"I know you are." Mrs. Taylor leaned closer. "But there's a peace that only comes with certainty. A certainty you feel on your skin." She paused meaningfully. "An Omega in her state... yearns to feel irrevocably safe. For her instincts to calm completely."

Shauna caught her breath. Jackie's mother wasn't talking about a ring. She was talking about an ancient language. About the mark.

"I... I don't want to rush things..." Shauna murmured, looking down at the floor. "I don't want to force her."

"Do you think it would be? Look at my daughter, Shauna. I don't see her groveling out of obligation. She's blossoming for you. But I also see her waiting, and waiting too long can turn into doubt."

Those words stabbed into Shauna like a knife. Was Jackie doubting? Was she doubting her?

In the bathroom, Jackie unconsciously stroked the place where her neck met her shoulder, exactly where instinct told her her alpha's mark should be. A constant tingling, a deep longing she didn't dare voice. She was afraid of scaring Shauna, afraid that this request would be the burden that made the other girl, so young and with so much weight on her shoulders, finally leave.

The conversation with Mrs. Taylor resonated with Shauna for days. The idea that Jackie might be waiting, longing for something Shauna was denying her out of fear, mortified her. Was she capable of reassuring her?

The answer came with a business call from Mr. Taylor. They had to travel to another city for a few days. It would be the first time the two of them would be completely alone in the house.

"Don't worry," Shauna told Mrs. Taylor, with a new determination in her voice. "I'll stay with her. She won't be alone for a minute."

Marilyn looked at her and for the first time, she saw something more than a scared girl in the Alpha's eyes. She saw resolve. She nodded slowly. "Take care of her, Shauna."

The first night was strange; the house was quiet, without the supervision of Jackie's parents. After dinner, Shauna picked Jackie up and carried her to the bedroom.

"Your nest smells a little funny." "The alpha said with a calm she hadn't felt before. "Let's renew it."

Jackie watched, shaken, as Shauna carefully undid the circle of clothes. She didn't throw it away. She rearranged it with a new meticulousness, mixing the new garments with the old, intensifying the scent of safe haven.

When she finished, the nest was perfect. And in the center, Shauna knelt and took Jackie's hands.

"Jackie," her voice, a little hoarse. "I know it hasn't been easy. I know you've been scared. But I want you to know... I have no doubt. It's you... It's always been you."

Jackie felt her heart race to the point of pain. Was she saying...?

"I love you," Shauna whispered, saying the words for the first time. "And I want you to be mine. Forever, if you'll let me."

The relief and happiness that flooded Jackie were so intense that she could only nod, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Yes," she managed.

What followed wasn't the passionate struggle of Lottie's party. It was slow, deliberate, and reverential. The room was dim, lit only by the moonlight filtering through the curtains. The air was heavy, laden with the scent of wet earth and burnt sugar that had intensified until it was almost palpable. The nest, rearranged by Shauna, was now a soft, fragrant cradle that enveloped them.

"Are you sure?" Shauna's voice was a husky whisper, laden with an emotion so deep it made the words tremble.

"More than anything in my life," Jackie whispered, turning her head to offer her the exact spot, exposing her vulnerability with absolute trust.

That was the only invitation Shauna needed. He moved with deliberate slowness, as if each movement were a prayer. His hands, those strong soccer player hands, became incredibly gentle as they roamed Jackie's body. There was no rush, only the intention to memorize, to honor.

He started at her ankles. Gently pressing his thumbs into Jackie's swollen soles, massaging with a tenderness that drew sighs of relief from the Omega's lips. His lips followed the path of his hands, kissing the sensitive skin of her calves, the curve of her knees. Each kiss was a silent promise. "I'll take care of you."

Jackie closed her eyes, abandoning herself to the sensation. His caresses moved up her thighs, avoiding the center of her heat for now, to devote his full attention to the curve of her hips, the swollen belly that held their daughter. Shauna paused there, resting her cheek against the taut skin.

"I love you." "He murmured against her skin, and the warmth of his breath made Jackie shiver. "Both."

Then his hands moved up to Jackie's tender, enlarged breasts. He touched them with an almost reverential devotion, stroking the hardened nipples with his fingers until Jackie moaned, arching slightly. Shauna leaned down and took one into her mouth, not with greed, but with a slow, wet suction that sent waves of pleasure straight to Jackie's core. It was a sweet and overwhelming sensation, unlike any she'd ever experienced before.

Only when Jackie was panting, lost in the sensation, did Shauna position herself between her legs, which opened for her in a gesture of total surrender. The moonlight illuminated Jackie's body, and Shauna paused for a moment to contemplate her, her omega, her life.

"You are beautiful," she whispered, and the admiration in her voice was genuine and absolute.

It was slow. Shauna sank into her with infinite care, filling her completely. Jackie moaned softly, not from pain, but from the overwhelming fullness. It was a different union, deeper than the first time. Each of Shauna's thrusts was slow and measured, rubbing a spot inside the omega that had her seeing stars. Her hips moved with a hypnotic cadence, creating a friction that was both physical and emotional.

Shauna leaned over her, resting her weight on her forearms on either side of Jackie's head, their faces so close they shared the same breath. Shauna's dark eyes, usually so stormy, were now wells of a love so intense that Jackie felt she was drowning in it.

"Jackie..." Her voice cracked with emotion and the effort of restraint. "My Jackie."

It was then that Jackie, sensing the approaching weather, turned her head, exposing the soft, vulnerable junction of her neck and shoulder. The silent, total offering.

Shauna, with you, my breath. Her hips stilled for a second. She looked at the spot, then into Jackie's eyes, seeking and finding absolute consent.

Then she leaned in. The moment of the bite wasn't violent. It was a firm, warm pressure. The pain was a sharp, swift sting, immediately replaced by an explosion of sensation so intense that climax hit them both at the same time. Jackie moaned, her body arching violently as a wave of pure pleasure surged through her from head to toe. Shauna, her teeth still sealing her skin, shuddered with a husky growl, emptying herself inside her as the bond closed, sending a warm, vibrant energy coursing through every fiber of her being.

The silence that followed was absolute, broken only by their synchronized panting. Shauna relaxed over her, careful not to crush her, and tenderly withdrew her teeth. She licked the small wound gently, an instinctive gesture of care that made Jackie shudder again with sensitivity.

When Shauna lay down beside her, they both stared up at the ceiling, still trembling. Jackie brought a trembling hand to her neck, touching the sensitive, wet mark. A smile of absolute peace, of total belonging, spread across her face.

Shauna looked down at her, and her own smile was a mirror of that peace. She reached out, and Jackie immediately snuggled into her side, her head on her shoulder, the new mark pressing against Shauna's skin.

They didn't need to speak. The air around them smelled different now. Of wet earth and burnt sugar, but fused into one, a new and inseparable scent. The scent of a sealed bond. The scent of home.

The first ray of sunlight filtered through the window, painting a dull band across the bed. Jackie woke up with a new feeling. It wasn't the weight of the pregnancy, nor the dull anxiety that had accompanied her for months. It was a deep peace, an inner silence she hadn't known since her first heat.

She touched her neck. The skin was tender, slightly swollen around the perfect arc of the mark. A dull, sweet ache that reminded her of what had happened with every beat of her heart. A silly smile spread across her lips.

Shauna was still asleep, breathing deeply, one arm protectively draped over Jackie's belly even in her dreams. In the daylight, Shauna's mark was more visible; a semicircle of purplish bruise with the small imprints of her canine teeth clearly defined. It was primal, possessive, beautiful.

Jackie leaned closer, burying her nose in Shauna's chest. The smell was different, no longer just Shauna's scent. It was a mix of both, and for the first time, her omega instinct wasn't screaming out of necessity. It whispered, "Safety."

It was Jackie's movement that woke Shauna. She blinked, disoriented, for a second, until her eyes focused on her omega's face, illuminated by the morning sun. And then on the mark on his neck.

Her breath caught in her throat. A wave of panic swept over her for a moment. What if Jackie regretted it? What if it had been a mistake?

"Good morning," Jackie whispered, and her voice was so soft, filled with quiet happiness, that Shauna's panic vanished.

"Good morning," Shauna managed to reply, her own voice raspy with sleep. She raised a trembling hand and stroked the edge of the mark with her fingertip. "Does it hurt?"

"A little," she admitted, leaning into the touch like a cat. “I like it… It reminds me it's not a dream.”

The alpha felt her heart clench with pure love. “It wasn't a dream,” she confirmed, sealing the promise with a soft kiss on Jackie's lips.

Shauna sat up on her elbow, staring at the mark with a mixture of wonder and possessiveness. It was hers. Jackie was hers. The reality of the bond, now physical and irreversible, filled her with a sense of calm so powerful it almost made her dizzy.

They stayed like that, in silence. In that moment of early morning stillness, only the two of them existed, like the new scent enveloping them.

It was already midday when Jackie's stomach began to growl, breaking the morning's spell. Shaunna laughed, a husky, genuine sound that echoed in the silence of the room.

“I think someone's hungry,” she said, kissing Jackie's shoulder, carefully avoiding the fresh mark.

“You know there are two of us.” “Jackie replied with a tone of pride in her voice that wasn’t there before.

Shauna slid out of bed with renewed determination. “Stay. I’ll make breakfast.”

Jackie was going to protest; she was usually the hostess, the one in control in her home. But tiredness and a lazy comfort kept her anchored between the sheets, which smelled strongly of Shauna. She watched as her alpha—her alpha—moved with familiarity around the room, which felt right, as if Shauna had always belonged there.

From the bed, she could hear Shauna struggling in the kitchen. It wasn’t the delicate sound of her mother making tea. It was the clatter of utensils, the sizzle of butter in the pan, the faint grunt of effort as she opened a jar. Domestic sounds, but in the context of their new bond, they sounded like a symphony.

Shauna returned with a tray. It wasn't perfect; the toast was a little burnt around the edges, the scrambled eggs a little dry, and some juice had spilled. But to Jackie, it was the most exquisite feast in the world.

"It's no big deal," she apologized, a shadow of her old insecurity crossing her face.

"I don't care, it's perfect," Jackie said, meaning it.

As they ate, leaning against the headboard, a new dynamic developed between them. It was no longer just a tense Alpha and an anxious Omega. They were a team. Shauna passed the butter to Jackie before she asked for it. Jackie offered her a piece of toast, which Shauna accepted with a silent nod.

"What now?" Jackie asked between bites of toast, giving voice to the question hanging in the air.

Shauna put down her glass of juice. "Now," she said, taking Jackie's hand. "Let's live together, we'll start looking for our own place. Nat said the garage where she worked was looking for people. I'll talk to her."

"Do you think we can do it?" Jackie's hope was palpable.

"We have to do it," Shauna affirmed. "It's not just for us, and you know it, it's for our family."

The word "family" didn't sound like a burden, but like a future to build.

The peace of the newly sealed bond was sweet but brief. A week later, reality knocked on the door in the form of Mr. Shipman, his face grim as he showed up at the Taylor house, ignoring the cup Mrs. Taylor was offering him.

"Did you do it?" he asked, turning to his daughter, but his gaze fell on the already healed bruise on Jackie's neck. I didn't need an answer. The evidence was undeniable, the scent mingling in the room was overwhelming. "Did you mark her? Without my permission? You don't even have a plan!"

"Dad, it wasn't like that," Shauna tried to explain, instinctively putting herself between him and Jackie.

"Don't talk!" he roared, and for the first time Shauna shrank under his gaze, not as an alpha, but as a disappointed daughter. “Do you know what this means? It’s an irrevocable bond… I’ll be leaving town in two days… Would you really stay here tied to this situation?”

The word “situation” resonated like a whiplash. Jackie felt Callie kick sharply, as if in protest. The nest, which had been her sanctuary, suddenly seemed like a gilded cage to Shauna. That night, Shauna didn’t stay at the Taylors’ house. Jackie waited for her in vain, stroking her mark until she fell asleep, her heart wrenching with a familiar anxiety.

She found her the next day on the soccer field, kicking a solitary ball into the net, her blood-curdling fury. Shauna’s scent of wet earth was thick with anger and anguish.

“Are you leaving?” Jackie asked, stopping a safe distance away.

Shauna turned around, her face streaked with dirt and sweat. “Do you think I will?” Her voice was raspy. “You’re my mate. My omega, my responsibility…” The last word sounded heavy, not like an honor, but like a chain.

Jackie felt a sharp pain in her chest. It wasn’t rejection she feared, but resignation. “I don’t want to be your responsibility, Shauna… I want to be your choice. Every day.”

“I don’t have it,” Shauna exploded, kicking the ball angrily. “I marked you, Jackie… My father is right. What can I offer you? To stay here and be an embarrassment? The Alpha who ruined Princess Taylor?”

“Stop calling me princess!” Jackie shouted, advancing on her, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I chose this! I chose you! Why can’t you believe you’re enough?”

They stood face to face, panting, the bond pulling at them with a painful force. Shauna saw the pain in Jackie's eyes, the same pain she felt, magnified by hormones and omega vulnerability.

"I'm scared," Shauna confessed, her voice breaking. "I'm scared of failing you, Jackie... of failing you, of failing her."

Jackie took her hand and placed it on her belly, where the baby girl was constantly moving.
"You'd fail us if you left. But you won't, because you're stronger than your father's fear."

The touch, the movement of her daughter beneath her palm, broke Shauna. She collapsed on the grass, burying her face in Jackie's belly. She didn't cry, but her body shook with dry, deep sobs. Jackie stroked her hair, wrapping her arms around her, protecting her alpha.

"We're not alone..." she whispered. “We have Tai, Van, Lotte… Even Nat. We have my parents, who now see you as a daughter…”

Shauna looked up, her eyes red but her gaze clearer. “What if it’s not enough?”

“Then we’ll fight,” Jackie said with a small but fierce smile. “Together. As it should always have been.”

That night Shauna returned; they didn’t speak of the subject again. But when they went to bed, Shauna wrapped her arms around Jackie and whispered into the darkness, not with desperation, but with renewed determination.

“I’ll go with Nat tomorrow. I need a steady job… Something that doesn’t require me to leave your side.”

Jackie remained silent, just squeezed her hand. The battle wasn’t over, but the first great crisis of “forever” had passed. And the bond, far from being broken, had been strengthened. Not by the bite, but by the choice to stay and fight.

The work in Natalie's shop was hard and monotonous, just as Shauna had imagined. Her hands, accustomed to the texture of a soccer ball, were now always stained with grease and smelled of gasoline. But every night, when she arrived at the Taylors' house, her tiredness evaporated when Jackie opened the door with a smile that lit up her entire existence.

One afternoon, however, Jackie's smile was gone. She was pale, sitting on the couch with her hands clasped over her enormous belly.

"Shauna…" Her voice was a thread of anguish. "I think it's time."

The world stopped completely. Time. The word they had waited for and feared for months. Panic, cold and sharp, tried to take hold of Shauna. But then her eyes met Jackie's, filled with fear that made her alpha instinct activate with overwhelming force.

"It's okay…" She said, making her voice sound surprisingly calm. She knelt in front of her omega and took her hands. “Breathe with me, okay? Like we practice.”

While helping Jackie get to the car, Shauna made two calls. One to her mother, with clear instructions. And another to Lottie, saying, “It’s today.” It wasn’t a plea for help, it was a warning to her friends.

The labor was long and exhausting. Shauna didn’t leave Jackie’s side for a second. She squeezed her hand until she almost lost circulation, rinsed her forehead with a cold washcloth, and murmured words of encouragement in her ear every time a contraction made Jackie cry out in pain. In a moment of calm, Jackie, exhausted and sweaty, groped for Shauna’s neck.

“I can’t…” She gasped, tears of frustration and exhaustion rolling down her temples.

“Yes, you can,” Shauna whispered, leaning into her ear. “Because you’re strong. You’re my omega.” And our little girl is eager to meet us.

Those words gave Jackie the strength for one last, titanic effort. And then, a high-pitched, vigorous cry filled the room.

When the nurse placed the tiny, rumpled baby on Jackie's chest, the entire world shrank into that room. The baby had Shauna's fist and eyes like Jackie's. She was perfect.

Shauna, with tears she didn't try to hold back, extended a trembling finger, and the little girl grasped it with surprising strength.

"Callie," Jackie whispered, her voice worn but filled with infinite love. "I've been waiting for you."

At that moment, the door to the room opened softly. They didn't all enter at once, but one by one, respecting the sanctity of the moment. First, Mrs. Taylor, her eyes brimming with tears of joy. Then, Mrs. Shipman, her hand going to her mouth at the sight of her granddaughter. Behind them, both cautiously peeking out, were Taissa and Van, and finally Natalie and Lottie, holding hands.

They said nothing. They just stood there, watching. Their silent presence was an unwavering wall of support. Natalie, with her usual disdain, nodded to Shauna, a gesture of respect worth more than any speech. Lottie smiled, silent tears falling down her cheeks, as if she wanted to repeat the same thing with Natalie.

Shauna looked from Jackie to her daughter, then back at her friends, crowded by the door. The fear of the future hadn't disappeared, but now it felt small compared to the overwhelming wave of affection that filled the room.

Callie Shipman - Taylor had arrived, and with her not only a new life, but the confirmation of the bond she had formed, against all odds, was strong enough to sustain them all.

Chapter Text

First week.

Callie's first days were a whirlwind of diapers, crying, and sleepless nights. The nest in Jackie's room expanded to include a crib next to the bed, but the baby rarely slept there. She preferred the warmth of Jackie's chest or the firmness of Shauna's arm.

Shauna had gotten an unofficial license from Natalie's workshop. "If your boss has a problem, let him talk to me," Natalie had growled, waving her hand as if she wished she had a cigarette between her fingers. So Shauna was there, 24 hours a day, becoming an expert at warming bottles and singing lullabies in a husky voice that curiously calmed Callie instantly.

One early morning, Callie had been crying for two hours straight. Jackie, on the verge of exhaustion and tears of frustration, rocked the baby to no avail.

"Shauna... It won't stop, and I don't know what else to do," she whispered, her voice cracking.

Shauna, who was standing by Jackie's bed, calmly approached and picked up Callie with a confidence that surprised even Jackie. "Leave it to me."

She paced around the room, rocking the baby with a steady rhythm. She didn't sing a lullaby, but instead began murmuring the names of soccer plays.

"...and then your Aunt Van does a tiki-taka down the sideline, slowly, very slowly, until she fools the defense..."

Callie's crying subsided to a whimper. Then a sigh. And finally, she fell asleep, her cheek pressed against Shauna's chest.

Jackie watched the scene with her heart so full it ached. Shauna was there in her protective alpha stance, rocking her daughter while talking to her about soccer. It was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.

"She seems to like your explanations too," Jackie said, almost whispering so as not to wake her. "You're incredible."

Shauna looked up, and her eyes held a similar amazement. "She is. Look at her little hands."

The three of them lay down together in bed, with Callie sleeping on Shauna's chest. Jackie curled up beside her, putting an arm around them both. The bond between them was now tangible in the small life they shared; it seemed to radiate a physical warmth.

The next morning, Taissa and Van appeared, Taissa carrying a parenting manual that looked like an encyclopedia and a bag of frozen dinners her mother had prepared. Van followed, carrying a package of diapers the size of a small refrigerator.

"So you don't run out," Van said, leaving them in a corner with a triumphant gesture.

Lottie and Natalie appeared later. Lottie carried a brightly colored mobile, and Natalie, with her usual pragmatism, brought a pair of ear protectors for sleeping.

"For you," Natalie clarified, seeing the dark circles under both mothers' eyes. "Either you take turns sleeping, or you go crazy."

As Lottie hung the mobile over the crib, Natalie approached Shauna.

"How's it going, Mama Wolf?" she asked, with a hint of irony that didn't quite hide her genuine curiosity.

Shauna, who was trying to change a diaper for the first time with the clumsiness of a puppy, let out a tired laugh. "It's harder than having to guard a speedy striker."

"Everything is," Natalie conceded, and for a second her gaze softened. "You're doing well, you see."

That small bit of validation, coming from the toughest Alpha she knew, meant more to Shauna than any praise.

As night fell, when the house was quiet again, Shauna and Jackie sat on the floor, leaning against the bed, with Callie sleeping in her bassinet between them. They were exhausted, disheveled, and smelled of sour milk along with tiredness.

"Are we going to sleep for eight hours straight again?" Jackie asked, resting her head on Shauna's shoulder.

"No," she answered matter-of-factly. "But we don't need sleep when we have her," she said, pointing at Callie, who was making mouth noises while she slept.

Little Callie had already grown accustomed to the constant visits from her aunts and to being the center of a universe that smelled of milk, diapers, and the unmistakable fused scent of her mothers.

Van was the queen of entertainment. She made up silly songs about diapers and bottles, imitated animals, simply stuck her tongue out to different rhythms, or even danced with Callie in her arms, making the baby giggle.

Tai showed her softer side; instead of manuals, she brought cloth books with high-contrast illustrations. She would sit quietly with Callie on the couch and gently point out the pictures.

"Look, Callie, a tree," she would say softly, causing the baby to follow her finger with curious eyes.

She was a quiet aunt, one who could calm the atmosphere with her serene presence. Sometimes when Callie fell asleep in her arms, Tai would remain motionless for long periods, prompting Shauna and Jackie to take photos of her from different angles.

Her interaction with Natalie was silent; she didn't make a spectacle of herself, but they had a way of connecting. She would sit on the floor with Callie in front of her and simply show her everyday objects. A wooden spoon, an old keychain, letting the baby examine them with her tiny fingers. Callie seemed fascinated by Natalie's direct, unadorned approach.

Lottie was observant. She noticed when Callie rubbed her tired hands or when she started to get restless before others noticed. She brought her rattles made of natural materials and gently jingled them, watching how the baby responded to the different tones and rhythms.

The best moments were when everyone was together: Van singing to her while Tai showed her a book, Natalie watching with a half-smile, and Lottie anticipating the first signs of the child's fatigue. It was a perfect blend of personalities that somehow complemented each other.

But always, always, when the world became too big for her, she instinctively sought out her mothers. A slight whimper, a lost glance, and Shauna or Jackie would be there to envelop her in their familiar scent. In their arms, Callie would sigh deeply and find peace, as if to say, "I'm finally home." And in those moments, Shauna and Jackie would look at each other over their daughter's head, knowing that the little girl now had something that took them time to build: a family that loved her unconditionally.

The relationship between Mr. Shipman and Shauna remained tense. Visits to the Taylors' house were brief and formal, filled with an awkward silence. He approved of Shauna's work at the shop—"At least it was an honest trade"—but his gaze rested on the mark on Jackie's neck with a frown that betrayed his residual disapproval.

Three weeks.

Callie was a bundle of urgent needs and guttural sounds. Shauna thought she'd gotten used to the new routine they were creating. Her bags were darker than when she'd found out she was going to be a mother. She rocked Callie in the stillness of 2:00 AM. Jackie slept exhausted in the other room. Shauna had assured her she'd watch over her so her omega could rest. She needed it.

"Little one..." Shauna murmured hoarsely. "We need to sleep."

But Callie wouldn't calm down. Her small fists were twitching, and her whining was persistent. Shauna, remembering something her own mother had told her, sat down on the couch and with clumsy movements, positioned Callie face down on her chest, right over her heart.

At first, Callie was restless, but then something "magical" happened. Shauna's warmth, the smell of wet earth, were all too familiar to her since she was in the womb, and above all, the steady, rhythmic sound of her alpha mom's heart hypnotized her. Her tense little body suddenly relaxed, and with a shaky sigh, the crying ended.

First year.

But time passed, and the first year arrived.

It was a small celebration in the Taylors' garden. Callie crawled determinedly between the guests' legs while chasing a shiny rubber ball. She wore a simple dress and a paper flower crown that fell off every five minutes. There were no grand decorations or rigid plans, just the relaxed atmosphere of a family reunited.

Mr. Shipman arrived late, carrying an impersonally wrapped gift. He stood at a distance, watching with his arms crossed. Callie, who was sitting on a blanket, was surrounded by toys but ignored most of them. Her eyes, increasingly similar to Shauna's in intensity, followed her grandfather with a nonexistent curiosity.

He tried to ignore her, speaking to Mrs. Taylor in monosyllables. But Callie wouldn't give up. With clumsy determination, she began to crawl... straight toward him.

The entire garden fell silent. Shauna held her breath, ready to intervene. Jackie brought a hand to her mouth. Mr. Shipman looked at the little girl approaching him. Callie stopped in front of her formal shoes, looked up with serious eyes, and raised her little arms in a universal gesture: "Lift me up."

Mr. Shipman's expression softened for a split second. It was impossible to resist. With a sigh that sounded like surrender, he bent down and lifted her with surprising gentleness.

Callie didn't smile. She studied him seriously and touched his nose with her finger, then grasped his tie. Mr. Shipman didn't move. He remained still, allowing the examination.

Then Callie did what she did when she liked something: she rested her head on Grandpa's shoulder, settled herself with a deep sigh, and sat still, calmly sucking her thumb.

It was the simplest gesture in the world, but it worked a spell. The stiffness in Mr. Shipman's shoulders vanished completely. One of his hands rested with infinite gentleness on Callie's back. He said nothing, just closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling the soft baby scent that now stained her clothes.

Both mothers looked at each other, unable to believe what they were seeing. The man who had called his granddaughter a "situation" was now holding her as if she were the most fragile and precious object in the world.

“She seems to like ties,” Van murmured, breaking the spell with his characteristic humor.

Mr. Shipman opened his eyes and, to everyone's amazement, smiled. It was a small, awkward smile, as if his muscles weren't used to it, but it was genuine.

“She has the Shipman stubbornness,” he said, his voice softer than anyone remembered.

Lottie murmured to Natalie. “See?” Lottie said, pointing at the little girl. “Everything's new to her.”

Natalie, who was leaning against a tree, nodded. “At least at this age she only eats dirt; there's no need to explain to her why the world is complicated.”

“For now,” Lottie added with a gentle smile.

When it was finally time for cake, everyone gathered around. Callie stared at the lit candle, fascinated by the tiny flame. Shauna held it in her arms while Jackie tried to blow it out.

"You have to blow, my love," Jackie whispered, blowing gently to teach her.

Instead of blowing, Callie curiously stretched her hand toward the flame. Taissa, who was closer, calmly intervened, sliding the cake a few inches further.

"It's better this way, little one," she said with a wink. "The fire lessons can wait."

Finally, between Shauna's soft blows and Callie's clumsy breaths, the candle went out. Everyone clapped and laughed, not at any great feat, but at the tenderness of the moment.

The gifts were simple: a new book from Tai, a wooden rattle Lottie chose for its soft sound, some blocks from Van, and Natalie gave her a pair of sturdy little shoes, perfect for continuing to explore the world.

"So she'll finally decide to walk," Natalie said with her signature smile.

Shauna hadn't expected her father to bring Callie a gift, but that wasn't the case. Mr. Shipman slowly leaned toward his granddaughter and once again took her to sit on his lap. With his other hand, he took something from the inside pocket of his jacket.

It wasn't a shiny toy or fancy clothes. It was a small teddy bear, but not a new one. It was old, with the fur a little worn in places and one eye slightly looser than the other.

"It was your mom's," he said quietly, just so Callie could hear. "When I was very little."

Shauna saw him and recognized the teddy bear instantly. Little Wolf. She had loved him until she was nine.

"Is that Little Wolf?" Jackie's voice beside her was a whisper filled with wonder and nostalgia. "When I slept at your house... If I had a nightmare or heard a noise, you always gave it to me."

Shauna looked at her, touched that she remembered. It was true. At all those childhood sleepovers, Little Wolf had been her secret code for comfort. Shauna would silently pass it along, and Jackie would hold him close to her chest until she fell asleep.

Callie took the wolf and held him close to her chest while her grandfather, with those dark, serious eyes that were a perfect reflection of Shauna's, looked on.

There were no hugs or kind words. But when Mr. Shipman left that afternoon, Callie was still cuddling the worn-out wolf, and Jackie squeezed her alpha's hand, knowing that perhaps, in time, the scars between them could heal. The gesture had been as quiet as the man who made it, but for those who understood the language of silent forgiveness, it had been more eloquent than any speech.

One year and six months

Callie then turned eighteen months old, becoming a whirlwind on legs. She no longer crawled; she was a self-confident little girl who ruled her grandparents' house. She didn't crawl; she ran, and every fall resulted in a grunt of frustration, a perfect replica of the ones Shauna used to let out on the soccer field.

At this stage, Jackie finished school and began college classes part-time. Shauna had risen in the ranks at the shop where she worked, had a more stable position, and managed inventory and appointments. Her days were a jumble of puzzles, but she knew how to manage them. In the afternoons, the three of them would be together in the garden, Shauna arriving with soiled clothes and little Callie running to her to take her cap and wear it herself.

One Friday afternoon, tiredness weighed more than usual. Callie was hyperactive after Lottie and Natalie's visit, running between Jackie's legs while she read a text she had given her in class.

"Callie, stay still for a moment," she said, her voice thick with exhaustion.

But Callie, in her game of chasing the imaginary kitten, tripped on the rug and wiped the floor with her face. The silence was brief, and she began to cry, not out of pain, but out of fury. Jackie quickly got up from her seat, but Shauna, who had just arrived at that moment, was faster.

"Hey, hey, champ," Shauna said in a firm yet calm voice, taking her in her arms. "Your mommy said not to run. Be strong, don't cry over a single scratch, okay?"

Callie, her cheeks red and soaked with tears, looked at Shauna. She took refuge in her alpha mom's arms, a gesture that melted Jackie.

"Don't be so hard on her," Jackie murmured, leaning closer and stroking her daughter's head.

"It's a tough world," she said, kissing Callie's forehead. "She needs to learn now."

"You sound like Nat," Jackie said sarcastically.

That night, after Callie's bath and reading her a story. "Then the prince kissed Snow White, causing her to wake from her dream..." Callie snuggled up next to the stuffed animal her grandfather had given her, slowly closing her eyes until she fell asleep.

Jackie looked out the window, sitting at her desk with a cup of tea in her hands.

"What are you thinking about?" Shauna asked, sitting next to her and putting her arm around her shoulders.

"That we're almost twenty," Jackie said sadly. "We've lived three lives. Our friendship, fear... And now parenting. I don't want to think about first-grade homework."

Shauna took the cup from her hands and intertwined her fingers with Jackie's. The mark on her neck glowed dimly in the light.

"I wouldn't trade this life, really," Shauna declared with certainty. "Not for college, not for traveling the world... Or for a scholarship."

Jackie knew her alpha's words were true. I saw it in her eyes every time she looked at Callie. It was a fierce affection.

"We have to move," the omega blurted out suddenly. "Just us. Callie needs her own room, and we can't live at my parents' house forever."

Shauna looked at her in surprise. The idea of ​​her own space and away from the shadow of her in-laws was too tempting.

"Can we do it?" she asked with hope in her voice.

"Tai told me the building Van lives in has a vacant apartment," Jackie replied, snuggling into Shauna's neck. "The walls are thin, but we're used to the noise."

Shauna smiled, a wide smile that still made Jackie sigh. "Let's do it."

As they went to bed that night, Shauna whispered into the darkness. "Will Callie miss her grandparents?"

"She'll miss the garden," the omega replied, turning around to face her. "We'll tell her we're coming to visit and that her Aunt Van is just an elevator ride away... And that her moms will finally have a place that's just theirs."

The word "theirs" echoed in the room. It wouldn't belong to the Taylors or the Shipmans anymore; it belonged to them.

Moving was chaotic, like everything that surrounded them. Callia followed Shauna everywhere, threw her toys in the washer, and hid everywhere. Van and Taissa helped with the boxes while Natalie efficiently secured the furniture.

"The table is wobbly." Natalie said from the kitchen, and before Shauna could respond, she had already fixed the broken leg.

Lottie, for her part, was looking after Callie, who had grown tired of so much "helping." "You need a break."

Callie just looked at her while Lottie searched through the boxes for a blanket and Shauna's pillow that Jackie had left just in case. "Stay here." Callie curled up without protest, hugging the wolf. Lottie took out a book and began reading it softly.

When they were finally alone, the silence felt cozy. Her apartment smelled of fresh paint and pizzas they'd devoured. It was small. The sofa was secondhand, and the carpet had a fresh juice stain that Callie had spilled.

"What do you think, Callie?" Jackie asked, hugging the little girl, who was watching curiously.

Callie broke free from her arms and ran to the middle of the living room. There she rolled over a few times before dropping back onto the carpet. That action was enough.

The first night, the three of them slept on a mattress on the master bedroom floor, surrounded by unopened boxes. Callie slept between them, one hand clutching Jackie's nightgown and one foot on Shauna's stomach.

"Tomorrow we'll buy curtains," Shauna whispered into the darkness.

Weeks passed, and the apartment filled with life. Photos of Callie, Jackie's books, and Shauna's work boots by the door. Her friends were now steps away, appearing unannounced. Van would arrive with movies for Callie; Taissa with more books; Natalie would check the plumbing and stay for dinner; and Lottie with plants to decorate the balcony.

That's where Shauna found Jackie looking at the park where Callie played with Van.

"Turned out she doesn't miss home," Jackie said, leaning on the railing. "She loves the park. I'm so grateful Van is around... She has a supervising older sister."

Shauna leaned in next to her and held her waist. "Do you miss her?"

"Sometimes I miss Mom's garden... But this is ours, really ours." She gestured to encompass the small balcony.

Shauna nodded and looked at Jackie, the wind moving her hair, the mark on her neck still visible and proud. She saw her smile as she watched Callie steal Van's hat to put it on, and she knew in that instant, with a certainty that filled her chest with calm, that they were finally in a place that belonged to them. It wasn't perfect, but it was theirs.

One year and eight months.

Jackie had noticed that Callie only babbled and didn't speak. This had worried her, thinking she wasn't listening well. Shauna calmed her down by saying that some children took longer to speak than others. So, Sunday afternoon was a bit lazy. Jackie had spent all morning teaching Callie simple words to repeat, which had been in vain.

Shauna, on the other hand, began to play with the baby, lying on the living room floor with Callie triumphantly sitting on her stomach while holding her alpha mom's locks like reins. Jackie was on the couch, tenderly watching the scene, taking pictures of her girls.

"So what do we do, boss?" Shauna said in a serious voice, making her daughter laugh. "What do we do? Do we rescue Princess Jackie or take a nap?"

Callie simply babbled "Ba-Ba-Ba," slapping her small hands against Shauna's chest.

"That sounds like an excellent plan," Shauna nodded seriously.

Jackie laughed and put her phone aside, lying on the floor in front of them and resting her head in her hands. "I vote for a nap. Our boss needs to recharge."

Callie, noticing her mothers at her level, began to babble more than usual. They rocked back and forth, looking first at Jackie and then at Shauna. The two looked at each other over her head with a look of shared love and exhaustion.

Then the little girl stopped. Her tiny face wrinkled with an expression of deep concentration. And her eyes, dark like Shauna's, fixed on Jackie, pointing with her finger.

"Mom…" She sighed, the sound barely a whisper of air.

Shauna and Jackie froze. Afraid to breathe. Callie just frowned in frustration, taking a deep breath and trying again, this time harder and pointing it at her omega mom.

"Mommy." The word was clear and echoed in the silent room.

For a second, the world stopped, Jackie's heart pounded in her chest, with a surge of emotion so strong it brought tears to her eyes.

Shauna's eyes were so wide. It was so unexpected that the surprise on her face was quickly replaced by a shock so profound it made her eyes shine.

"Shauna said it," Jackie whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "She said it."

Callie was satisfied with the reaction she had caused in her "mommy." She now turned her head toward Shauna, looking at her with the same intensity and studying her face. She repeated the process, concentrating with all her might.

"Mo…" she said again, pointing at Shauna now. Then, with a wide smile lighting up her little face, she spoke. "Mom."

Twice. Once for each of us.

This time it was too much for Shauna, and a tear escaped and rolled down her temple, soaking her hair on the floor. With a breathy laugh, half cry and half joy that came from her chest, she reached out and grabbed Jackie's hand, squeezing it with a force that would have been painful under any other circumstances.

Jackie crawled to her side and snuggled up to them, burying her face in Shauna's neck, sobbing openly with happiness. Callie was caught in the group hug, laughing with delight, not understanding the magnitude of what she had done.

"Mommy and Mom told us," Jackie repeated through tears, kissing Callie's cheek. "Two."

"I know," Shauna said, burying her nose in Jackie's hair, inhaling the smell of shampoo and burnt sugar. "Mom." Saying the word made her feel incredibly powerful and vulnerable at the same time.

The little family on the floor of the apartment was the richest in the world. There was no toy or gift that could compare to the two syllables spoken in their daughter's voice. It was a final confirmation that they had created something beautiful and true.

Jackie had an important college exam. For the first time, family logistics were getting complicated.
"Hey, don't worry," Shauna said, adjusting the fanny pack over her chest with the practice of someone who had done it many times. "I'll keep it under control. We'll go to work together."

Callie watched curiously from Shauna's chest, her hands clutching the hem of the fabric.

"Are you sure?" Jackie asked, settling her daughter. "It's noisy in the garage, and things are dangerous."

"Natalie will be there," Shauna interrupted, giving her a lingering kiss. "Besides, you know how controlling she is. She'll be fine."

That was how Callie arrived at the auto shop for the first time. Shauna was working with the fanny pack on, Callie pressed against her chest. The scent of gasoline, oil, and sweat from work mingled with Shauna's wet earth and Callie's sweet baby scent.

Callie wasn't crying. She simply watched with her dark eyes, following her mom's every move, the tools hanging on the walls, and the giant truck wheels. When Shauna used a wrench, Callie's legs kicked with excitement.

"Looks like you have an apprentice," Natalie commented, approaching with a grease stain on her cheek.

"She's the best," she remarked, proud of her daughter.

Natalie offered a large, clean lug nut to Callie. The baby took it with both hands, banging it against the counter with a toothy smile.

"She's obviously your daughter," Natalie said. "She likes things that work."

At noon, Shauna sat on a folding chair in a quiet corner. She took the bottle out of her insulated bag and began feeding Callie. While doing so, she spoke to her in a low voice. Callie watched her with a little too much attention, sucking on her bottle.

"That's a truck tire, Cals. It has to be strong to hold a lot of weight." And that's a cat over there...

"Kitty," Callie said, finishing her meal.

"Exactly, it's good for lifting heavy things, like the time your mommy and I moved the couch."

When Jackie came running home in the late afternoon, her hair disheveled and her eyes tired but relieved, she found her alpha wiping down an engine part with a rag, Callie asleep against his chest in the carrier.

"How was your day?" Jackie asked in a whisper.

Shauna smiled, looking down at her sleeping daughter. "She was the best. She's a good apprentice. She barely cried, and Natalie gave her her first nut."

Jackie laughed softly, stroking Callie's back. "Just the two of you could turn the workshop into a perfect nursery..."

"It's Shipman's," Shauna said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

The next day, the park was sunny and quite busy. Shauna was playing with Callie, pointing out some ducks in the pond. The little girl was laughing and stretching her hands toward the birds. Jackie was sitting on a nearby bench, smiling at the sight, but her smile tightened slightly as she smelled the other omegas and saw how they watched Shauna with devotion.

The whispers and flirtatious glances directed at Shauna didn't go unnoticed. Shauna was focused solely on Callie, not caring much about what was happening around her, and carrying her baby naturally. Something that other omegas found attractive.

Jackie said nothing. She didn't frown or show discomfort. Instead, she stood up calmly, but with grace. She walked directly toward Shauna and Callie with a sweet smile but a fierce determination in her eyes.

"Are you watching our favorite ducks?" Jackie asked, approaching.

Shauna turned her head, but before she could say anything, Jackie closed the distance and gently cupped her face in one hand. There was no rush; she leaned Shauna toward her and gave her a deep, possessive kiss, right there; in the sunlight, in front of all the omegas' eyes.

It wasn't quick or chaste. It was a kiss that sent a clear message: "She's mine."

When they broke apart, Shauna was breathless and blushing. Callie, in her arms, spoke happily and clutched Jackie's hair.

"I love you," Jackie said softly, but clearly enough for Shauna (and others close enough) to hear. Her eyes, however, shifted toward the group of omegas, and there was a warning glimmer in them.

Shauna, still dazed, smiled awkwardly and adoringly. "I love you too," she whispered, brushing her forehead against Jackie's, a gesture that was uniquely hers.

I had never seen Jackie jealous, not even at school when the other omegas had started stalking her. "That's not like you, Taylor."

"Shut up, Shipman," Jackie said, holding her alpha's hand and taking Callie into her arms.

Two years.

Natalie and Lottie began living together after graduation. They both knew for sure they wanted to start a family, but not at seventeen like their friends Jackie and Shauna. They adored Callie but witnessed how their friends suffered because of it.

But they were adults in a way; when they did, they didn't take care of themselves. So, on an ordinary Tuesday, Natalie had come home tired from work, the smell of gasoline and oil permeating her clothes. Lottie was preparing dinner, moving gracefully through the kitchen. Everything had felt normal, until it didn't anymore.

Natalie stood in the kitchen doorway, her nose twitching slightly. There was something in the air, something different—not the aroma of the kitchen or Lottie's soft perfume. It was something sweeter, subtle but unmistakable.

"Did you change the soap?" Natalie asked.

Lottie turned around in surprise. "No. Why would I?"

Natalie fell silent, leaning closer. Her gaze was intense. Her instincts screamed that something was different. That Lottie smelled different.

"Are you feeling okay?" Natalie asked, her voice different. "Are you feeling... weird?"

"A little..." Lottie admitted, smiling mysteriously as she stirred the sauce. "Believe me, it's nothing serious."

Natalie leaned closer. The new scent was stronger and wrapped around Lottie like an invisible blanket. It was a smell she'd smelled once in her life three years ago. She connected the dots immediately.

"Honey..." The nickname came out as a husky whisper.

Her eyes instinctively lowered to Lottie's belly, which was still flat, with no visible signs. But Natalie didn't need to see.

Lottie put down her spoon and turned to face her, reading the question in her alpha's dark eyes. "Nat?"

"Are you?" Natalie swallowed, her hand rising shakily to gently touch Lottie's lower abdomen.

She couldn't say the word. It felt too big and overwhelming. Lottie took Natalie's hand and held it firmly against her skin.

“You guessed it,” she confirmed, her voice a thread of sound, but her eyes shone with tears of happiness. “I am.”

Natalie didn’t scream or jump with joy. Instead, it ran through her from head to toe, and for the first time in her adult life, tears of happiness rolled down her cheeks. She buried her face in Lottie’s neck, inhaling deeply the new scent that now came from her omega.

“A baby…” she managed, her voice muffled by Lottie’s skin. “It’s a girl. I know it.”

Lottie hugged her tightly, laughing through her tears. “How can you tell?”

Natalie pulled back enough to look at her, her dark eyes shining with a mixture of wonder and absolute certainty.

“It smells like you,” she whispered. “But it’s softer. Like the flowers you like.”

In this case, there was no need for proof. Natalie’s body, her very essence as an alpha, had already recognized the truth. Her family had grown, and she knew it.

That night they snuggled up on the couch, Natalie never letting go of Lottie for a second. Her hand remained on her stomach, protecting and affirming.

Callie was two years old and had a keen sense of smell that sharpened every day. She inherited her mother's sensitivity. One afternoon, during visits to Lottie and Natalie's house, she noticed something different.

Lottie was sitting on the couch, and Callie, following a habit she'd picked up from an early age, snuggled up next to her so she could read a story. But this time, instead of the usual floral scent that always surrounded Lottie, Callie had smelled a new one, just like Nat had weeks before. It was subtle, sweet, like flowers with honey, and it seemed to be coming from Lottie's tummy.

Callie wrinkled her little nose and approached Lottie with even more curiosity. "Tia Lottie... You smell weird," she said frankly.

Lottie smiled somewhat surprised. "Weird?"

"Yes," Callie insisted. "Like... Mommy's flowers."

Natalie, who had entered the living room with a drink, stopped when she heard the conversation. She exchanged a meaningful look with Lottie. They hadn't told anyone about the pregnancy yet. Callie ignored her aunts' stares and gently placed her hand on Lottie's belly.

"Doesn't it hurt?" she asked, remembering when her mom, Shauna, used to have stomach aches sometimes.

"No, honey, it doesn't hurt at all," Lottie replied gently, covering Callie's hand with her own.

"Aunt Lottie has a baby," Natalie replied, approaching Callie. "You don't remember, but you were in your mom, Jackie's, too."

"It's a secret for now, Callie. Is she okay, little one?" Lottie spoke calmly. "Don't tell anyone yet."

Callie nodded solemnly, putting a finger to her lips. "Secret," she whispered.

The call came in the middle of the night. Natalie's voice was raspier than usual, and she only managed to say, "He's coming." Shauna, Jackie, and a half-asleep Callie arrived at the hospital to meet Van and Taissa. Natalie was also there, pacing the delivery room hallway like a caged tiger. Her normally restrained scent of dried grass wafted through the corridor like a cloud of tension.

Lottie, on the other hand, remained calm amid the controlled chaos of the hospital. Although contractions shook her, her breathing was deep and measured.

Three-year-old Callie watched everything from her mother Jackie's arms. She didn't fully understand what was happening, but her instincts were on high alert. She could smell her Aunt Nat's intensity, Lottie's calm, and her mother's concern.

"Aunt Nat walks a lot..." Callie commented with the seriousness of a general assessing a battlefield.

“She's expecting the baby, just like Mommy and I were expecting you,” Shauna explained.

“Does she have a car?” Callie asked, remembering the stories Natalie told about the garage.

Shauna and Jackie laughed. “No, honey. But she probably likes cars, just like we do.”

Finally, after hours of tense waiting, a nurse poked her head in and gave the announcement. Natalie disappeared immediately, and minutes later, vigorous crying was heard.

When they were allowed inside, the scene felt powerful. Lottie was exhausted, holding a tiny baby wrapped in a blanket. Natalie, kneeling beside the bed, leaning on Lottie's arm, her shoulders trembling slightly with relief and emotion. Her large hand, normally covered in grease, stroked her daughter's head with infinite delicacy.

"Her name is Lisa," Lottie said, her voice tired but full of love.

Callie froze in Shauna's arms, her eyes fixed on the tiny bundle in Lottie's arms. Something inside her stirred. It wasn't curiosity. It wasn't a child's simple interest in a baby. It was recognition.

Lisa's scent drifted to Callie and tangled with her own scent of young forest. And in that moment, the three-year-old knew, with a certainty, that this baby was important. That she was her responsibility.

"Can I see her?" Callie asked in a whisper, unusually solemn.

Natalie, her eyes reddened but with a peace no one had ever seen in her before, nodded. Shauna leaned closer, and Callie reached out to touch Lisa's incredibly soft cheek with a gentleness that mimicked Natalie's.

Lisa, who had been crying, calmed instantly. Her small fingers closed around Callie's.

"It's Lisa," Callie repeated, sealing a secret pact.

Seven years

The house with its white garden and large windows wasn't a mansion, but it was warm and full of life. It smelled of burnt cookies Shauna had tried to bake and fresh flowers. On the living room wall were photos of Jackie's graduation and her diploma from her new job, and a framed picture of that first empty apartment hung. A reminder of how far they'd come.

Callie was now seven years old and had dark hair like Shauna's, but with Jackie's dazzling smile, she was a whirlwind of scraped knees and endless questions. Her favorite place was the garden, where Van, her self-proclaimed favorite aunt, was teaching her soccer secrets.

"Not flatfooted, little wolf! On tiptoes!" Van shouted, sweaty and happy to dodge Callie's clumsy yet enthusiastic attack.

Taissa was sitting there on the porch steps next to a laptop, looking up from her documents to shout, "Van, don't be hard on her!"

"Too late," Van replied, carrying Callie on his shoulders as the girl laughed out loud. "She has the strength of an alpha."

"That's because I am one, Aunt Van."

Inside the house, the atmosphere was calmer, but no less sweet. Natalie and Lottie had arrived with five-year-old Lisa. Lisa had inherited Natalie's intense gaze and Lottie's calmness.

Lisa was sitting on the living room floor, watching with fascination as Lottie braided Jackie's hair. Callie burst into the house like a storm, followed by Van.
"Mommy! Aunt Lottie! Lisa!" she shouted, going straight to hug the youngest girl with a care that was surprising for her age. Lisa, who was normally reserved, always lit up when Callie hugged her.

"Callie, shall we play?" asked the little omega, holding up a rag doll.

"Let's be explorers," declared Callie, taking her hand and leading her to the garden where their secret base was a particularly leafy bush.

Natalie, who had been fixing a blind in the kitchen, approached the window to keep an eye on them, with Shauna at her side.

"Your girl is good to mine," Nat observed, her tone as close to admiration as she could muster.

"Lisa is easy to like," Shauna said proudly.

Natalie snorted, but one corner of her mouth turned up. "Don't be silly, Shipman."

The girls played in their secret base under the bush. Callie, with boundless energy, explained in great detail the plan to find lost treasure. Lisa had a crooked dandelion wreath on and listened admiringly.

"So the treasure is here, behind the dragon bush," Callie declared dramatically.

"Is there really a dragon?" Lisa asked with a hint of concern.

"Of course not," Callie said, rolling her eyes affectionately. "It's my mommy's rosebush. We have to be stealthy."

Lisa nodded, almost too serious. Then, in a burst of admiration, she walked over to Callie and gave her a quick, wet kiss on the cheek.

"You're the best in the world, Callie."

Callie stilled, her face glowing a deep red that reached her ears. "Well... It's because my mom and Aunt Van taught me." She tried to regain her composure.

Natalie was getting some drinks out of the fridge. By pure chance, she happened to look out the window again just as the kiss was taking place. Her eyes widened.

"HEY!" I shouted, gently rapping on the window with my knuckles. "Ten feet apart, princess!"
Shauna, who was peeling carrots by the sink, laughed out loud. "Nat, they're four and seven."

"That's how it starts! Jackie used to kiss your cheek constantly, and you ended up with a daughter," Natalie said, pointing at Shauna with a juice bottle. "An innocent kiss today, and tomorrow your daughter steals my daughter's heart with promises of adventures. I don't want her to be another Shauna Shipman, seducing a Taylor with her supposed shyness!"

Jackie, who had just entered the kitchen at that moment, put a hand to her chest with mock drama. "I'm telling on you! It was all part of my plan."

Natalie snorted, a smile escaping the corners of her mouth. “I'm just saying, she has that same “poor thing, help me” look you used to give Jackie.”

“I never used that look!” Shauna protested, while Jackie, beside her, nodded vigorously and kept saying, “Yes, all the time.”

In the garden, the girls had heard Natalie's scream. Lisa looked at Callie worriedly. “Are we in trouble?”

Callie, who was recovering from the small kiss, put her hands on her hips, striking a pose similar to Jackie's. “Your mom is jealous. Like a guardian dragon.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “But we know how to avoid them.”

Lisa smiled, completely comforted. She took Callie's hand and together they ran to hide behind the rosebush, their giggles escaping like a secret.

Natalie, who was still watching from the window, saw them slip away and crossed her arms, pretending to be angry, but she couldn't stop her expression from softening.

"Okay," she murmured, loud enough for Shauna and Jackie to hear. "But if you write him a love letter with spelling mistakes, I won't be held responsible."

Shauna and Jackie laughed, and the sound mingled with the laughter of the girls in the yard.

Thirteen and eleven

The garden of Shauna and Jackie house had become an informal gathering place for the girls, now almost teenagers. Callie, with her height and a mix of shyness and confidence typical of her age, tried to explain algebra to Lisa while they sat on the porch. Lisa, with her dark hair like Lottie's and a gaze similar to Natalie's, listened with an attention that went beyond academic interest.

"So the "x" is a secret to be discovered?" Lisa asked, resting her chin on her hand.

"Let's just say it is," the older girl replied, feeling the tips of her ears warm under Lisa's intense gaze. For a few months now, the study sessions had become different. "It's like a puzzle."

"I like puzzles," Lisa said with a flirtatious smile.

Inside the house, through the open kitchen window, four pairs of adult eyes spied on the scene with varying levels of concern and amusement.

"Look at that," Natalie murmured, gripping the edge of the sink so tightly her knuckles turned white. "Your daughter is giving her the same pitiful dog look you gave Jackie. The pattern repeats itself!"

Shauna, who was leaning against the refrigerator, laughed helplessly. "Fuck. You've known her since she was in Jackie's belly. Do you want me to ask her for a report on her intentions?"

"Yes!" Natalie exclaimed, completely serious.

"Natalie, breathe," Lottie intervened, placing a calming hand on her alpha's shoulder. Her dark hair shone in the kitchen light. "Their connection is beautiful. Just like when we first met."

"It was the same excuse I used with you!" Natalie retorted with a nostalgic tone. "One day they're helping you, and the next they're stealing traffic signs to declare their love." Her gaze softened for a moment. “That's what I did, remember? The no entry sign we hung when you lived with your parents.”

Lottie couldn't help but smile at the memory. “You said it was a practical reminder to keep everyone away.”

“It was,” Natalie argued, though a smile played on her lips. “But it was also… You know.” She made a vague gesture with her hand. “It was ours, now that mini Shipman is making puppy dog ​​eyes at our daughter.”

“Callie will be more practical. She'll take care of Lisa like Shauna took care of Jackie and like you took care of me,” Lottie whispered. “Maybe I'll write her poems.”

“Poems?” Natalie snorted. “Jesus, Lottie. I stole a sign. Remember Shauna did the same thing? During the month Jackie avoided her after the party at your house. I spent the whole month comforting Shauna with Tai.”

"Oh, I remember," Jackie said, brushing Shauna's shoulder with her own.

Shauna blushed slightly; it was such an odd gesture that it made Jackie laugh.

"I remember..." Callie found the box in the closet, Shauna said, avoiding her gaze. "I told you they were old notes from school."
"The notes that said 'Your laugh is the only sound that doesn't need translation.'" She mimicked her alpha's deep voice. "Callie thought they were instructions for assembling furniture."

Shauna snorted, but a smile spread across her lips. "It was a rough month. I called Natalie and Tai crying every night... until Tai told me."

"I'm glad he did, or I wouldn't be with you," Jackie said, gently kissing Shauna's lips until they were interrupted.

"Ugh, Mommy..." Callie said, coming in with Lisa to teach them something. "I taught Lisa how to solve equations."

“Callie’s a good teacher,” Lisa said, sitting next to her mothers. “Are Aunt Tai and Aunt Van coming?”

“We heard the conversation from across the block.” Taissa appeared next to Van from the back door. “Shipman intensity is something to be studied. He seduced Jackie and swept the soccer team off their feet.” She said, looking at both girls and winking.

Both girls giggled, blushing; they understood exactly what they were talking about.

“I’m going to get gray hair,” Natalie whispered to Lottie.

Shauna leaned close to Jackie’s ear and put her arm around her. “Should we be worried?”

Jackie looked at her daughter, who was now showing Lisa something on her phone, their heads close together, and felt a pang of that sweet, terrifying panic. But then she noticed the peace in Callie’s eyes. “No,” she whispered, leaning into Shauna. "Our only concern is her happiness and being there if things get complicated. Also, to laugh at Natalie's jealousy."

Shauna smiled and sighed. She knew her life would never be peaceful again. Between her teenage, lovelorn alpha, her omega worried about her only baby, the jealous alpha, the omega who let things happen, the playful beta, and the logical beta... It was all a mess. But that was something that would never change.

Sixteen and fourteen

Time hadn't changed the waters; it had only made them deeper, and for some, more fun. Callie was now sixteen, with Shauna's height and serious gaze, but with Jackie's flirtatious smile. She had been planning this for weeks.

She found Lisa in her front yard sitting under a tree where they had always played as children. Lisa, fourteen, was reading, but closed the book when she saw Callie approaching. Something in the older girl's expression made her smile.

"I have something for you," Callie said, her voice deeper than usual.

From behind her back, she pulled something out—it wasn't a store-bought gift. It was a small wooden box that Shauna had helped her polish for weeks. Lisa took it with curiosity. When she opened it, there was neither a ring nor a candy inside. On a piece of blue velvet lay a small toy wrench, identical to the one Natalie had given Callie when she was a baby. Tied to it with a thin ribbon was a rolled-up scroll.

With trembling fingers, Lisa spelled out the message. Callie's handwriting was firm and clear:

Lisa,
For years you were my 'Lieutenant.'
Now I want you to be my date to the dance.
It's not a mission, it's a question.

"Callie."

Lisa read the message twice. Then she looked at the key in her hands—it was the first toy they had ever shared—and finally looked up at Callie, who was fidgeting, holding her breath.

"Does this..." Lisa's voice was a whisper. "Does this mean..."

"It means," Callie interrupted gently. "That if you agree, I'll pick you up at seven. And that... it's not just about the dance."

"Yes," Lisa said without hesitation. "Of course it is, Callie."

There was no rushed hug or dramatic kiss. Just two smiles that said it all, and hands that found each other, intertwined with a naturalness they'd practiced since childhood. The small key bore witness to years of complicity, now sealing a new deal.

Now Callie was in her living room, adjusting the dress she was wearing for the tenth time. She was going to pick up Lisa for her first formal dance… It was a real date.

"Is the dress okay? Isn't it too much?" she asked, turning in front of Shauna.

"You look perfect, Cal," Shauna said with a lump in her throat. Her little girl, her baby, was about to go on her first date.

"Too much!" Jackie chimed in, bursting in from the kitchen. "That neckline? Where do you think you're going, young lady? To a nightclub?"

"Mommy, it's the same dress you approved yesterday," Callie sighed with the patience of a daughter raised by an overprotective mother.

"I didn't notice the neckline yesterday in this light!" Jackie retorted, searching for a shawl to wrap her in.

Shauna suppressed a smile. Jackie, who had worn thousands of low-cut dresses and short skirts as a teenager, had become the most overprotective mother in the universe. The irony was delicious.

Across town, the drama was similar but with a more apocalyptic tone.

"Who's the boy? Where did you get him from? Is his vaccinations up to date?" Natalie questioned Lottie, while her daughter, Lisa, looked beautiful and nervous in a blue dress, adjusting some earrings.

"You know it's not a boy, love, it's Callie," Lottie said, helping Lisa with an earring. "We've known her since she was born; she's been in the garage since she was a baby."

"Worse! That makes her more unpredictable! She has the Shipman genes, you know exactly how that ends!" Natalie was starting to hyperventilate. "What if she drives too fast? What if Lisa's dress isn't warm enough?"

"Love." Lottie leaned closer and placed a soft kiss on her lips. "Calm down, it's Callie. The girl who's been doing Lisa's math homework since she was seven. The one who gave her her jacket when she caught a cold in the park. The one who..."

"The one who stole her heart!" Natalie finished in a dramatic tone. “Just like Shauna planned from the beginning! It's a conspiracy!”

The doorbell rang. Lisa jumped up and ran to answer it. There she was, holding a bouquet of wildflowers (a gesture influenced by Jackie and Lottie) and a shy smile that turned into amazement when she saw Lisa.

“You… You look… Amazing,” Callie managed, her voice cracking slightly.

“You too,” Lisa whispered, blushing.

Natalie appeared behind her daughter, crossing her arms with a nightclub bouncer expression. “Shipman-Taylor Rules. Code of conduct. You bring her back at eleven o'clock, no…”

“Nat,” Shauna’s calm voice interrupted her, appearing in the doorway next to Jackie. “Let them breathe. You never kept a schedule with Lottie. Remember?”

"And you ended up blaming me!" Van added, leaning out from behind them alongside Tai, as if they were the diplomatic corps of the operation.

"It's an ambush!" Natalie exclaimed, but she was being surrounded by the entire "Family."

While the adults were starting their own drama in the driveway, Callie and Lisa slipped into the car.

"Sorry about my mom," Lisa said once inside.
"Sorry about mine," Callie replied, starting the engine with a smile. "Ready to get away from our crazy parents?"

Lisa smiled and took her hand on the seat. "Always."

The car pulled away from the curb smoothly, a gesture that betrayed the driver's nerves. A comfortable but electrically charged silence.

"Aunt Nat and Aunt Lottie are way too involved," Callie commented, breaking the ice with a crooked smile.

Lisa laughed, a clear sound that eased Callie's tension. "Just today? Aunt Jackie sent me a list of rules longer than the shop's."

"Don't drive the speed limit, but don't drive so slow it looks like we're hiding something," Callie mimicked in Jackie's voice, making Lisa burst out laughing.

The dance was in the school gymnasium, decorated with dim lights and a balloon arch that looked flimsier than promised. But to them, it was the most magical place in the world.

"Do you want to dance?" Callie asked with a confidence she didn't feel.

Lisa nodded, and they glided onto the dance floor. The music was a sappy ballad, but it sounded like a symphony. Callie, who was naturally clumsy anywhere but on a soccer field, tried to keep up, but it was Lisa who, with a natural grace inherited from Lottie, gently guided her.

"Relax." "Lisa whispered near her ear. "Just follow the music."

Callie looked at her, feeling the world around her blur. The lights and the other students, everything disappeared except for Lisa's eyes, smiling at her with affection and amusement.

"You know?" Callie said, lowering her voice. "For as long as I can remember, you're always there, you're always there, watching."

“We grew up together, Cals… But I always wanted to be there,” Lisa confessed without looking away. “Even when we were just kids and you took me scouting… You were always my safe place.”

Callie felt her heart skip a beat. Without a second thought, she kissed her on the cheek, an intimate gesture they'd shared since they were children, but one that now felt completely new.

“You're my safe place, too,” she whispered.

There was nothing dramatic about the dance floor. It wasn't something they needed; that stillness, that silent confession under the flickering lights, was more meaningful than any rushed gesture. It was the culmination of years of complicity, of stolen glances and hands that instinctively reached for each other.

When the music changed to a faster tempo, they broke apart, flushed but happy. They spent the rest of the night laughing, dancing with friends, but always gravitating toward each other.

On the way home, with the soft hum of the engine in the background, Lisa leaned back in the passenger seat. “Do you think our moms waited?”

“Knowing Aunt Nat, she probably has drones watching us,” Callie replied jokingly.

Callie parked with a precision that would have made Shauna weep with pride. It was 11:02 PM. Two minutes late. She knew that meant a reproachful look from her mom, Jackiey, and most likely a comment from Aunt Nat.

“Well…” Callie said, turning off the engine. The sudden silence made her heartbeat sound like drums in her ears.

Lisa turned to look at her. Moonlight filtered through the windshield, illuminating her shy smile. “Tonight was amazing.”

“I know.” "Callie replied, lowering her gaze to Lisa's lips and staying there. The air in the car was filled with a sweet, long-awaited tension. All the nerves from that night, all the eyes on the dance floor. They came together in that moment.

They leaned forward at the same time.

The kiss was clumsy, soft, uncertain, but perfect. It tasted like cherry-flavored lip gloss and the promise of something new and wonderful. It lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough for the world to stop.

THUD THUD THUD!!

A sudden, loud knock on the driver's window separated them with a start.

NATALIE!!

“YOU, 5 METERS SEPARATE!” Natalie’s apocalyptic voice roared from the other side of the glass. Her face, illuminated by the porch light, was gaunt. She held a toy baseball bat.

Callie, her heart racing, lowered the window. “Aunt Nat! I almost had a heart attack!”

“I’LL GIVE YOU MORE THAN A HEART ATTACK, SHIPMAN!” Natalie yelled, pointing the toy bat. “DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY HOURS I’VE SPENT MY DAUGHTER’S DANGERS OF DISTRACTED DRIVING?!”

“Mom, please!” Lisa moaned, sinking into her seat in a mixture of horror and shame.

At that moment, the front door swung open. Shauna, Jackie, and Lottie rushed out onto the porch like a rapid-response battalion. Shauna brought her hand to her mouth, but her shoulders were visibly shaking from stifled laughter. Jackie's eyes were wide.

"Nat, for God's sake, it's a plastic bat!" Lottie yelled, running toward the car.

"IT'S THE BEGINNING!" Natalie responded, unyielding. "FIRST AN INNOCENT KISS, THEN STEALING A TRAFFIC SIGN AND BADLY WRITTEN POEMS!! WE ARE WITNESSES!!

Shauna doubled over with laughter, leaning on Jackie, who tried to maintain her composure but failed miserably.

"Natalie, calm down! These are girls who like each other, not a gang of criminals!" Shauna said, approaching and placing a hand on the other alpha's shoulder, although she couldn't stop herself from grinning from ear to ear.

"What do you know?!" Natalie turned to her. "You skipped all the stages, and the first heat ended in a teenage pregnancy!"

"Natalie is fourteen and sixteen!" Jackie chimed in, finding her voice. "And Callie's responsible!"

"IT'S THE MOST DANGEROUS THING!" Natalie yelled again, now pointing the bat at Callie. "The responsible ones are the ones who take the biggest risks when they finally let their hair down!"

The young alpha and young omega looked at each other across the car. Instead of panic, they saw the ridiculous comedy unfolding in front of them. A goofy grin spread across Callie's face. Lisa smiled back, shrugging her shoulders as if to say, "What can we do?"

Lottie finally managed to wrest the toy bat from Natalie and wrapped her in a hug. "Love, calm down, her love is adorable."

"Adorable?" Natalie let out a moan, defeated, and buried her face in Lottie's shoulder. "My baby..."

"Isn't anymore, love," Lottie whispered, stroking her hair. "And she's in the best possible hands."

As Natalie was guided home amidst Lottie's murmurs, Shauna approached the car window. "So, how did it go?" she asked her daughter with a genuine, curious smile.

Callie, blushing, looked at Lisa, who was trying to reassure Natalie, and then at her mom. "It was... Perfect. Until Aunt Nat's scandal."

"That makes it more memorable," Shauna said, winking at her. "Now come on, your mommy Jackie wants a full report." And by completely, I mean every detail that doesn't involve lips.

Jackie and Shauna got into the car, and Shauna, in the driver's seat, began driving. Jackie questioned Callie about her night. Callie simply couldn't answer, still reeling from her first kiss.

Eighteen years

The smell of wet earth and burnt sugar had merged, over the years, into a single aroma: that of home. A home that smelled of cookies Shauna had burned, of the flowers Jackie arranged in the entryway vase, and of Callie's textbooks, now eighteen and about to graduate.

The house with the white yard was theirs. They had fought, worked, and loved within those walls until every corner told its story. Callie, with Shauna's seriousness and Jackie's smile, was the living testament to that love that had been born out of chaos and taken root in perseverance.

One Saturday afternoon, with the evening light bathing the living room in golden hues, Shauna was extraordinarily nervous. Callie, the perfect accomplice, had insisted on taking Jackie shopping for "something special," although "something special" was, in reality, the meticulously orchestrated plan of her alpha mom.

"Are you sure he won't get suspicious?" Shauna asked for the tenth time, as she arranged pillows that were already perfect.

“Mom, relax.” Callie smiled at her, those dark eyes, a carbon copy of her own, shining with complicity. “I told him I wanted his opinion on the prom dress. He thinks he’s my accomplice; he doesn’t know he’s the distraction.”

As Callie’s car drove away, Shauna held her breath. The plan was in motion.

She didn’t go looking for the ring right away. Instead, she climbed the stairs to the attic, a space they used to store mementos. There, among boxes of Callie’s old toys and photo albums, she found what she was looking for: a small, plain wooden box. Inside, there was no diamond ring. There were two silver rings, simple, almost rudimentary, with barely visible engraving: a small wolf on one, and on the other, the inscription “Always Yours.”

She had bought them six months ago with her first significant bonus from the workshop, now a thriving business she ran with Natalie. They weren't luxurious, but they were strong, durable. Like them.

She went downstairs and headed to the garden. Her garden. She remembered how pregnant Jackie would lie on the lawn chair at her parents' house. How Callie took her first steps. The times Shauna would arrive on her bike after school and stay there until sunset.

She had everything ready: fairy lights tangled around the rosebush, the soft old blanket Jackie adored spread out on the lawn, and a bottle of her favorite wine.

Her heart was pounding like a drum when she heard the car. Callie drove in first, with a wide smile and a wink. Behind her, Jackie, carrying some shopping bags and a slightly confused expression.

"What's going on here?" she asked, her gaze scanning the lights, the blanket, the bottle of wine, and finally settling on Shauna, who was standing there, paler than usual, her hands sweaty.

"A surprise." “I'm leaving,” Shauna managed, her voice a little huskier than usual. “Callie, can you…”

“I'm leaving now.” Callie kissed her mom, Jackie, on the cheek. “I have a… uh… date with Lisa.” She slipped into the house, leaving them alone in the golden twilight.

Jackie leaned closer, a shy, curious smile on her lips. “What's all this, Shipman? Did I forget an important date?!”

Shauna took her hand and guided her to the blanket. She knelt, not on one knee, but in front of her, taking both hands in hers. The world narrowed to the garden, the scent of her rosebushes, the sound of her labored breathing.

“Jackie…” she began, swallowing. “Almost nineteen years ago, in Lottie's kitchen, I ruined everything. Or so I thought.” I thought I had destroyed our friendship, our future… that I had failed you.

Jackie opened her eyes but said nothing, allowing her to continue.

“But from that mistake, from that struggle, the best thing in my life was born. Callie was born. This was born… this family we built together, against all odds.” Shauna’s voice cracked. “It wasn’t easy. I know. We’ve fought, we’ve cried, we’ve been afraid. But never, not one day, have I stopped choosing you. Choosing this.”

She took the small wooden box from her pocket. She didn’t open it immediately.

“You left a mark on me, Jackie. You gave me a daughter. You gave me a home. You gave me a reason to fight every day. But there’s one thing I’ve never formally given you. A promise that, deep down, I always knew was true, but that I never said out loud.”

She opened the box. The silver rings gleamed softly in the evening light.

“Jacqueline Taylor…” Shauna’s voice was firm now, charged with an emotion that made the words tremble. “Will you do me the honor of being my wife? Not out of obligation, not for the brand, not for our daughter. But because I love you. Because I want to spend the rest of my life by your side, laughing at Nat’s jealousy, enduring your mom’s rules, and watching our daughter build her own story with Lisa. Will you marry me?”

Jackie didn’t cry immediately. A slow, radiant smile lit her face, erasing the years of worry and the shadows of the past. Her bright eyes scanned Shauna’s face, the box, the rings.

“Silly,” she whispered, her voice filled with a love so deep it nearly knocked Shauna off her feet. “I’ve always been your wife. From the moment you bit me, from the moment you promised to stay… It only took you eighteen years to make it official.”

She extended her hand, her left, where the mark on her neck seemed to beat in sync with her heart.

"Yes, Shipman. Of course I'll marry you."

Shauna let out a sob of relief and joy, took the wolf ring, and slipped it onto her finger with a trembling hand. Then Jackie took the other ring and placed it on Shauna's.

There was no hurried embrace, but a deep stillness. They leaned toward each other until their foreheads touched, breathing the same air, fused in the twilight. The ring on Jackie's hand felt not like a new jewel, but like a part of her that had always been there, waiting.

The wedding

It wasn't a big wedding. It wasn't in a church. It was in their garden, the same one where Shauna had proposed, transformed into a sanctuary of lights, wildflowers, and the faces of all those who had supported them through their storm.

Taissa, wearing a crisp pantsuit, officiated, her practical yet warm voice filling the space. Van was at her side, smiling as always. Natalie, wearing a dark dress and an expression that oscillated between moved and grumpy, had one arm wrapped firmly around Lottie, who smiled with tears of happiness in her eyes.

Mrs. Taylor, her face softened by age and acceptance, held her husband's hand, who, though still serious, nodded with silent respect for his daughter-in-law. Mrs. Shipman, beaming, couldn't stop smiling, while Mr. Shipman, holding Callie's hand, watched from behind.

Callie, at eighteen, was the maid of honor. She wasn't wearing a traditional dress, but an elegant champagne-colored suit that matched her serene confidence. She held the rings and smiled at Lisa, sitting between Natalie and Lottie, who smiled back with an admiration they no longer tried to hide.

But all eyes turned toward the garden entrance when the music began.

And there was Jackie.

She wasn't wearing a voluminous white dress. It was a simple, ivory silk design that draped over her body with timeless elegance. The neckline revealed Shauna's mark, pale but visible, like a jewel more precious than any necklace. Small wildflowers were woven into her hair. She walked arm in arm with her mother, but her eyes, bright and without a hint of doubt, were fixed on Shauna.

Shauna, meanwhile, waited at the end of the small petal-lined aisle, wearing a well-cut dark suit that highlighted her strong shoulders. Her eyes were brimming with tears that she made no attempt to hold back. Watching Jackie advance toward her, she felt like time had stopped. She was seventeen again, afraid again, lost in those eyes again, but this time there was no chaos, only absolute certainty.

When Jackie reached her side, she took her hand. There were no words needed, just a squeeze that said it all.

Taissa began the ceremony. She spoke of the friendship that grew into love, the mistake that became family, the struggle that forged an unbreakable bond. She spoke of loyalty, not as an obligation, but as a daily choice.

“And today,” Tai said, her firm voice echoing in the silent garden, “you choose to make that choice official. To remember, and to remind us all, that love isn't perfect, but it is unbreakable when nurtured with respect, patience, and a willingness to forgive.”

The time came for the vows. Shauna spoke first, looking at Jackie as if she were the only person in the world.

“Jackie… you promised you wouldn’t let me fall. And you didn’t. You picked me up again and again. I promise, today and always, to be your anchor in the storm and your companion in the calm. I promise to support all your dreams, just as you supported mine. I promise to love you, respect you, and make you laugh, every day of my life. You are my omega, my best friend, my life. I choose you, again, forever.”

Jackie, with tears streaming down her cheeks, but her voice clear and sweet, responded.

“Shauna… you promised me I wouldn’t be alone. And I never was. Even though you left that first night, you always came back. I promise, today and always, to be your home. The place you can always return to, where you will always be loved exactly as you are. I promise to be your strength when you falter and celebrate each of your victories. I promise to love you, to grow old with you, and to remind you how much you are, every day. You are my alpha, my partner in crime, my everything.” I choose you, again, forever.

Callie handed them the rings. With steady hands, they slipped them onto each other's fingers. They were the same silver rings, now shining in the late-afternoon sun, symbols of a love that needed no ostentation, only truth.

"By the authority vested in me by the state of New Jersey," Taissa declared with a smile, "I declare that you are joined in matrimony. Shauna... you may kiss your wife."

And Shauna did. It wasn't a passionate, possessive kiss like the one at Lottie's party, nor the tender, reverential kiss from the night of their marriage. It was a slow, deep kiss, filled with a promise that had taken nearly two decades to fulfill. A kiss that tasted of forgiveness, of the future, of home.

The garden erupted with applause and laughter. Van whistled shrilly. Natalie, her eyes reddened, nodded at Shauna, a gesture of deep respect and approval. Lottie smiled through her tears.

The ensuing party was as warm and messy as her family. Van put on some music and asked Taissa to dance. Natalie, after a couple of glasses of wine, ended up dancing with Lottie, twirling slowly, her head resting on her omega's shoulder. Mr. Shipman, after a moment's hesitation, asked his wife to dance, while Callie and Lisa, holding hands, laughed and talked in a corner, whispering secrets and stealing kisses under the lights.

In the middle of the makeshift dance floor, Shauna wrapped her arms around Jackie, swaying to a slow ballad.

"You know?" Jackie whispered against Shauna's ear. "Callie told me something today."

"What?" Shauna asked, inhaling her scent, now mixed with the scent of the garden and happiness.

"She said she always knew this would happen. That we were inevitable."

Shauna tightened the hug, watching her daughter laugh with Lisa, her friends dance, her parents, finally, at peace.

"You were right, you know," Shauna said, her voice a whisper only to Jackie. "That night in the kitchen... It wasn't our downfall. It was our only salvation."

Jackie looked up, her eyes meeting Shauna's. There was no sign of the scared girl from the party, nor of the anxious omega. There was just a safe, loved woman at home.

"She always was," Jackie replied, sealing her truth with a soft kiss, beneath the garden lights and the stars that were finally beginning to appear, handcuffs.