Page 146 of Pack Baby for the Silver Foxes

“No,” I said. “She left us to go back to Damien’s biological father.”

“Were you scent matches?”

“No.”

Mary’s breath changed.

Hudson touched her chin, lifting her face gently. “We cared for her.”

“Loved her?”

“In a way,” I said.

She needed alphas. We needed an omega. Damien needed people who stayed. It worked until it didn’t.

“Do you miss her?” Mary asked.

Hudson answered. “No. But I regret the hurt.”

“Damien’s?”

“Yes.”

I brushed my thumb along Mary’s waist. “I miss who Damien was before he learned people could leave twice.”

Mary closed her eyes. “And now here I am.”

“No.” My voice sharpened before I could stop it.

Her eyes opened.

I turned her fully toward me. “No, Mary. You’re not the second hurt. You’re not another woman walking out of his life or another reason to feel abandoned. Damien’s pain is real. It isn’t your guilt.”

Hudson’s hand settled at the back of her neck. “You’re our scent match.”

“And if I weren’t?”

“We’d still want you,” I said.

“You keep saying that.”

“Because you keep needing to hear it.”

Her mouth trembled. I lowered myself to my knees in front of her again.

“Lincoln.”

I rested both hands on her hips and looked up at her. “I’m forty years old, Mary. I’ve lived enough years to know the difference between need and want. Between guilt and love. Between an omega we cared for because life put her in our path and a woman whose scent turned my whole world toward her before I knew her name.”

Her eyes filled.

Hudson stood behind her, one hand at her shoulder.

“You’re not a replacement,” I said. “You’re not a consequence. You’re not a scandal we’re managing.”

Mary swallowed. “Then what am I?”

Hudson bent, his mouth near her ear. “Ours.”