Chapter 217
Kara
The ultrasound photos felt impossibly light in my hands—three tiny shapes, three flickering hearts frozen in grainy black and white. I stared at them, my vision blurring slightly at the edges, trying to make my brain accept what my eyes were seeing.
Three babies. Three lives. Three futures.
Cole's voice broke through my daze, soft and reverent as he gazed at the screen. "I love you, Kara."
I looked up to find him staring at me, not at the monitor, his mint and ozone scent wrapping around me like a gentle embrace. His eyes were wet, his expression open and vulnerable in a way that made my chest ache.
Before I could respond, he leaned down and pressed the softest kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering like he was trying to memorize the feel of my skin. Through the bond—that strange, invisible thread connecting me to all three of them—I felt something shift. A wave of emotion so profound it nearly knocked the breath from my lungs: love, awe, fierce protectiveness, all tangled together and amplified threefold.
They're ours, I felt through the connection. Three babies. Three hearts. Three lives we created together.
The realization hit me like a physical blow. Not just that I was pregnant—I'd suspected that much—but that I was carrying three. Three little Alphas. Three pieces of the men who'd found me, saved me, claimed me as theirs.
And suddenly, the careful control I'd been maintaining since we left Diana's facility shattered.
"Every second was torture," I heard myself say, my voice cracking. The words tumbled out before I could stop them, raw and desperate. "I was so scared. I thought I'd never see you again. I thought—"
My throat closed up, the memory of those three days crashing over me: the cold metal of the suppression collar, Viktor's expressionless face, Diana's mocking laughter, the suffocating certainty that I was going to die alone in that white room, that my babies would die with me, that Blake and Asher and Cole would spend the rest of their lives searching for a mate they'd never find.
Blake's hands were suddenly on my shoulders, his gunpowder and leather scent flooding my senses, grounding me. "We're here," he said, his voice rough. "We found you. You're safe now."
But I wasn't safe. Not really. Not when I could still feel the phantom weight of the collar around my throat, still smell the chemical tang of chloroform, still hear Diana's voice promising to hollow me out and wear my skin like a costume.
"I tried to reach you," I whispered, my hands fisting in the paper gown. "Through the bond. I tried so hard, but the collar—it cut me off. I couldn't feel you. I thought you'd given up on me. I thought—"
"Never." Asher's voice cut through my spiral, sharp and absolute. His black ebony and tobacco scent wrapped around me from behind, solid and immovable. "We never stopped looking. Not for one second."
Cole's arms came around me then, careful of the ultrasound gel still on my stomach, pulling me against his chest. His heartbeat thundered beneath my ear, fast and strong and real. "You're here," he murmured into my hair. "You're safe. You're ours. Nothing is going to take you from us again."
Through the bond, I felt their certainty, their absolute conviction. But I also felt something else—something darker lurking beneath the surface. Fear. Guilt. Self-recrimination.
We should have protected her better.
We should have known Diana would come for her.
We failed her.
The thoughts weren't directed at me, but I caught them anyway, bleeding through our connection like ink through water.
"It's not your fault," I said, pulling back enough to look at Cole's face. His eyes were red-rimmed, his jaw tight. "None of this is your fault."
"We're your mates," Blake growled, his fingers tightening on my shoulders. "Your Alphas. Protecting you is literally our job, and we—"
"You saved me," I interrupted, reaching up to cover one of his hands with mine. "You came for me. You fought through Diana's facility and you brought me home." My voice broke again. "You brought me home to tell me we're having three babies."
The words hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning. Three babies. The number still didn't feel real.
Blake's expression softened fractionally, some of the self-hatred in his scent easing. "Yeah," he said quietly. "We did."
Asher moved closer, his presence solid and grounding at my back. Through the bond, I felt him struggling with something, his usual iron control wavering.
"I'm sorry," he said finally, the words sounding like they'd been dragged out of him. "For everything you went through. For every moment you were scared. For—"
"Stop." I twisted to look at him, taking in the rigid set of his shoulders, the way his hands were clenched at his sides like he didn't trust himself to touch me. "I don't want apologies right now. I want—"
What did I want? To forget the last three days had ever happened? Impossible. To stop feeling like Viktor's cold hands were still on my skin? Not likely. To believe that this moment—this room, these men, these babies—was real and permanent and mine to keep?
Yes, my wolf whispered. That. We want that.
"I want you to hold me," I finished, my voice small. "All of you. I want to feel safe."
The effect was immediate. Blake's hands gentled on my shoulders, his thumbs stroking soothing circles. Cole's arms tightened around me, his chin resting on top of my head. And Asher—Asher finally moved, his large frame pressing against my back, his arms coming around both me and Cole to create a cocoon of warmth and protection.
Their scents mingled and wrapped around me: black ebony and gunpowder and mint, tobacco and leather and ozone, all combining into something uniquely ours. Through the bond, I felt their mental voices overlapping, creating a chorus of reassurance.
Safe.
Ours.
Protected.
Loved.
Never alone again.
The words washed over me, through me, sinking into the places Diana had tried to hollow out. Slowly, incrementally, I felt the knot of fear in my chest begin to loosen.
Dr. Martinez had left at some point—I hadn't even noticed. The room was quiet except for our breathing and the faint hum of medical equipment. On the ultrasound screen, three tiny hearts continued their steady rhythm, oblivious to the emotional storm surrounding them.
Our babies, I thought, and felt an answering surge of fierce protectiveness from all three men. We made them together. They're going to be so loved.
Eventually, Cole shifted, reaching for the box of tissues Dr. Martinez had left on the counter. He pulled one free and gently dabbed at my face, wiping away tears I hadn't realized I'd shed.
"Better?" he asked softly.
I managed a wobbly smile. "Getting there."
Blake made a sound that might have been a laugh or a sob. "You scared the hell out of us, you know that?"