Page 23 of Omega on the Rocks

Keiran chuckled and crossed the room to kneel beside me. He pressed a kiss to my temple, one hand gently stroking the downy-soft dark hair of our pup.

“I still can’t believe it,” he murmured. “That I walked into that bar looking for whiskey—and walked out with a smart-mouthed omega I couldn’t live without.”

I huffed a quiet laugh, careful not to jostle the baby. “Better to have an omega on the rocks than a whiskey on the rocks.”

He groaned. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” I grinned. “You’re stuck with me, Alpha.”

“Damn right I am.”

His hand moved to cradle our baby’s head. Our son stirred slightly, then settled, soothed by the scent and presence of both his parents. It was instinct. Bond. Fate. Whatever it was, it felt whole.

“I didn’t know this kind of peace existed,” I whispered, voice cracking just a little.

Keiran didn’t answer with words. He just leaned in and kissed me—slow and reverent—before resting his forehead against mine.

Outside, the snow had started to fall again.

But inside, I was warm. I was safe.

I was home. And for the first time in my life, I wasn’t alone.