Chapter 236
Kara
The water was starting to cool, but none of us moved. This moment felt too precious, too fragile. Like if we stayed perfectly still, we could preserve it forever.
Eventually, though, Cole stirred. "You're getting pruney. And Dr. Martinez said no more than twenty minutes in hot water."
"It's barely warm now," I protested, but I was already shivering slightly.
Blake was out of the tub in one smooth motion, grabbing the massive towel warming on the heated rack. "Come here, baby."
He wrapped me in terrycloth that was almost too hot, rubbing my arms briskly to restore circulation. Asher and Cole climbed out more slowly, water sluicing off their bodies in ways that would've been distracting if I weren't so exhausted.
"Bed," Asher decided. "Food first, then sleep."
"I'm not hungry," I started, then stopped at the look on his face. "Okay, maybe a little hungry."
"You barely ate lunch," Cole pointed out, already pulling on soft sleep pants. "And the babies need—"
"I know, I know. Three thousand calories a day for triplet pregnancy." I'd heard the lecture from Dr. Martinez enough times. "Fine. But nothing heavy. My stomach's still unsettled from all the crying."
Blake's expression softened. "Toast? Soup? Whatever you want, we'll make it happen."
"Toast sounds good. With that strawberry jam from the farmer's market."
"Done." He pressed a kiss to my forehead before heading for the door. "Back in five."
Cole helped me into one of their t-shirts—this one definitely Cole's based on the mint scent—and a pair of soft sleep shorts. Asher was already in bed, propped against the headboard with his tablet, probably reviewing security protocols or pregnancy information or any of the thousand things he tried to control when he felt helpless.
I climbed in beside him, curling into his side. He set the tablet down immediately, arm coming around me.
"What were you reading?" I asked.
"Wedding venue options. Sophia sent a list." He showed me the screen—a dozen different locations, from the formal ballroom downstairs to various outdoor settings around the pack lands.
"It's January in Alaska," I pointed out. "Outdoor seems ambitious."
"That's what I said. But apparently there's some kind of heated tent system?" He scrolled through photos of elaborate winter wedding setups. "I'm more concerned about security. An outdoor venue means too many potential access points."
"Asher."
"What?"
"It's our wedding, not a military operation."
His jaw tightened. "After what happened—after Diana—I can't take chances with your safety. I won't."
I understood. God, I understood. But I also couldn't live the rest of my life in a protective bubble, no matter how much he wanted to put me in one.
"What if we compromise?" I suggested. "Indoor venue for the ceremony and reception, but maybe—I don't know, an ice sculpture garden outside for photos? Controlled space, limited access, but still pretty?"
He considered this, tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "That could work. I'll have Harm run security assessments on the different indoor locations."
"Of course you will," I said, but I was smiling.
Cole returned with a tray—not just toast, but also sliced fruit, cheese, crackers, and a mug of herbal tea that smelled like chamomile and honey.
"I said toast," I protested weakly.
"You said toast. I heard 'please bring me a variety of easy-to-digest options so I can see what appeals.'" He set the tray across my lap. "Eat what you want, leave what you don't."
Blake followed him in with his own plate—significantly more food—and climbed onto the bed on my other side. "So, wedding planning. We doing this tonight or letting you rest?"
"Little of both?" I suggested, nibbling a strawberry. "I can't shut my brain off anyway."
"Then talk to us," Asher said. "What do you actually want for this wedding? Not what Sophia thinks you should want, or what pack tradition dictates. What would make you happy?"
I took a moment, really thinking about it. "Small," I said finally. "I know that's probably not possible with pack politics, but—I don't want hundreds of people I barely know. I want the people who matter. Who actually give a shit about me, not just the spectacle."
"Done," Blake said immediately. "Fuck pack politics. This is our wedding."
"We'll need some pack presence," Asher cautioned. "But we can limit it to senior members and people you've actually built relationships with. Sophia and Emma's families, Dr. Harrison, the people who've been kind to you."
"And Anna and Sol," I added, watching for their reactions.
Cole nodded. "And Anna and Sol. As honor attendants, like we discussed."
The ease of their acceptance made my chest warm. They were learning. Actually learning to trust my judgment even when it conflicted with their instincts.
"What about colors?" Cole asked. "Sophia mentioned something about winter whites and silver?"
"I like that," I admitted. "Clean. Simple. And it won't clash with—" I gestured vaguely at my abdomen. "Whatever I look like in a month. I'm going to be showing by then."
"You're going to be beautiful," Blake said fiercely. "Fucking radiant. Pregnancy looks good on you, baby."
I rolled my eyes, but I was blushing. "You're biased."
"Damn right I am. You're carrying my kids. Our kids. You could wear a burlap sack and I'd think you were gorgeous."
"Please don't wear a burlap sack," Asher murmured. "I'm begging you."
That startled a laugh out of me, tension breaking. "I'll try to find something slightly more formal."
"Sophia already has designers lined up," Cole said. "She texted me a list. Apparently there's someone in Anchorage who specializes in maternity formalwear?"
"Of course there is." I leaned back against Asher, suddenly exhausted again. The adrenaline from confronting my parents was wearing off, leaving me hollow and shaky.
Through the bond, all three of them felt it.
"Enough planning," Asher decided, moving the tray to the nightstand. "Sleep now. Everything else can wait."
"But we didn't finish—"
"Kara." His voice carried just a hint of Alpha command, enough to make my wolf settle. "You've been through hell today. Your body is growing three babies. You need rest more than you need wedding details."
He was right. God, I was so tired.
Blake shifted, pulling me down until I was horizontal, my head on his chest. Asher curled around my back, one hand protective over my abdomen. Cole took up position at the foot of the bed, his hands finding my feet and beginning a gentle massage.
"This okay?" Blake murmured. "Not too crowded?"
I shook my head, already drifting. Their combined scents—fire and ebony and mint—wove together into something uniquely ours. The bond hummed with contentment, with safety, with love.
"Thank you," I whispered. "For letting me handle it my way downstairs. For not trying to fight my battles for me."
"Always," Asher promised against my hair. "We're learning to be the mates you need, not the ones our instincts want us to be."
"You're doing good," I assured him, words slurring with exhaustion. "All of you. You're doing so good."
The last thing I felt before sleep claimed me was their fierce protective love wrapping around me like a shield, and the tiny flutter of awareness from the three lives growing inside me.
I woke to whispered argument and the smell of coffee—decaf, because apparently caffeine was now banned from my life along with sushi, soft cheese, and anything remotely fun.
"—told you she needed to sleep in," Asher was saying, his voice low but sharp with irritation.
"It's two in the afternoon," Blake countered. "And Dr. Martinez said regular sleep schedules are important for hormonal regulation."
"Dr. Martinez also said stress is bad for the pregnancy, and you hovering over her like a neurotic mother hen is definitely stressful."
I cracked one eye open to find all three of them clustered near the bedroom door, clearly trying to argue quietly and failing spectacularly.
"I can hear you," I announced, and all three heads whipped toward me with identical guilty expressions.
"You're awake," Cole said, stating the obvious as he crossed to the bed. His hand found my forehead automatically, checking for fever even though I'd been fine twelve hours ago. "How do you feel? Any nausea? Cramping? Headache?"
"I feel like I'm being smothered by overprotective Alphas," I said, but I was smiling. "What time is it really?"
"One thirty," Asher admitted, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. "You slept fourteen hours."
"Fourteen—" I sat up too fast, head spinning slightly. Blake was there immediately, hand on my shoulder. "Why didn't you wake me?"
"Because you needed it," he said simply. "Your body is working overtime right now, baby. Growing three whole humans takes energy."
"We have things to do today," I protested. "The Luna lessons with Nicholas, and I wanted to visit my parents, and—"
"Already handled," Asher interrupted smoothly. "Nicholas rescheduled for tomorrow. Your parents are settling in with Dmitri. Everything can wait."
I wanted to argue, but honestly? I still felt like I could sleep another fourteen hours. Pregnancy exhaustion was no joke.
"Fine," I conceded. "But I'm getting up now. I feel disgusting."
"You look beautiful," Cole said automatically.
"I look like I got hit by a truck. A truck made of emotions and family drama." I swung my legs over the side of the bed, accepting Blake's hand when he offered it. "I need a shower. And food. And—what's that?"