The first thing I notice is warmth. Not the thin, borrowed warmth of stolen blankets or cheap coffee clutched in shaking hands. This warmth is different. It seeps into my bones, wraps around my ribs, fills spaces inside me that used to ache with cold.
Adrian's cedar scent reaches me before I'm fully awake. Then Zane's ocean-fresh scent, crisp and clean. Cole's pine, earthy and grounding. They surround me in my nest, a tangle of limbs and heat and safety. The weight of their bodies presses against me through layers of soft blankets.
I keep my eyes closed and let myself have this. Let myself feel safe.
Last Christmas, I woke on a bare mattress on a floor that might as well have been ice. The heating had been shut off in my building for three days, my breath fogging in the air. My fingers hadn’t bent properly when I’d to pulled my threadbare coat tighter. I'd had seventeen dollars to my name and no food in the apartment except half a jar of peanut butter.
I thought I might not survive the winter.
Now I'm here. In my nest surrounded by alphas who chose me as much as I chose them. Who proved, over and over, that I'm not property. I crack one eye open. The nest is dim, sheltered, exactly how I need it. No windows in here. I chose this room specifically for that reason. But Adrian's awake beside me, and something in his posture has shifted.
"What?" I ask.
"Snow," he says. "A lot of it. Come see."
I let him pull me from the nest, his hand warm around mine as we pad down the hallway.  In the living room, the Christmas tree glows softly in the corner. White lights and simple ornaments that Cole and Zane insisted on putting up yesterday and I helped decorate. 
'Your first real Christmas,' Zane had said, grinning as he nearly toppled the whole thing.
Through the living room windows, the world has transformed overnight. White covers everything. The yard, the trees, the driveway. Still falling in thick, heavy flakes.
It's beautiful.
And I'm already cold just looking at it.
"Wow. That’s… amazing," I manage. It’s a wonderland. Soft and pure, the sow has blanketed the bushes and trees and the whole ground.
We came up to the cabin two days ago. Adrian's family place in the mountains, private and isolated. "An early Christmas," he'd said. "Just the four of us." No work calls. No city noise. No obligations except being together.
I'd been nervous about leaving the penthouse, about being this far from the familiar safety of home, but the cabin has thick walls, a stone fireplace that Cole keeps burning, and a nest room that smells like pine and cedar and safety.
His thumb traces slow circles against my skin through my sleep shirt. "We were supposed to get a dusting. This wasn't in the forecast."
Zane comes up on my other wide, his ocean scent sharpening as he approached. "How much, do you think?"
"At least eight inches," Adrian says. "It’s still coming down."
I stare at the window. At the white world beyond it. Beautiful, some distant part of my brain supplies. But beauty doesn't keep you warm. Beauty doesn't feed you or shelter you or stop your fingers from turning black with frostbite.
"Hey." Zane's hand cups my jaw, turning my face toward him. His eyes are sharp, searching. "Where'd you go?"
"Nowhere. I'm here."
"Mira."
I close my eyes. "I'm fine."
Adrian's patient disbelief pulses against my ribs through our bond. Zane's concern washes through me. Cole’s pine scent wraps around me as he steps from the nest to join us.
"You're not fine," Zane says. 
I open my eyes. "The snow. It's... I don't do cold."
"We know," Adrian says.
They do know. They've seen how I keep the house at seventy-five degrees. How I pile blankets on the bed until we're all sweating. How I freeze up at the first hint of chill in the air.
"We should go out in it," Zane says.
My stomach drops. "No."
"Hear me out." His energy cracks through him despite barely being awake. "You've never played in snow. Never built a snowman or had a snowball fight. This is your chance."
"I don't want to."
"You've never tried. How do you know you won't love it?"
"Because I know what cold feels like." The words come out sharper than I intend. "I know exactly what it feels like, Zane."
Silence settles over the us. A silence I didn’t mean to start. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"
"Don't apologize," Adrian’s hand hasn't stopped its soothing circles on my stomach. "You don't owe us explanations."
But I do. They've been patient with me for months. They've let me set the pace, respected my boundaries, never pushed. And here's Zane, suggesting what probably sounds fun and harmless to him, and I'm snapping at him.
I turn in Adrian's arms to face Zane properly. "It's not about you. Any of you. It's... cold isn't fun for me. It's not magical or beautiful. It's dangerous."
"It was dangerous. Past tense. You're safe now. We wouldn't let you get cold. Not for a second,” Zane says.
"I know that up here." I tap my temple. "But my body doesn't. It remembers."
Cole's deep voice rumbles from behind me. "We understand."
Do they? I twist to look at him. His dark eyes are steady, watchful. There's understanding there, yes. But also he's remembering his own ghosts. The tightness around his mouth, the way his gaze goes distant for half a heartbeat.
"I'm going to make coffee," I say, needing to move, to break this tension. "Anyone else want some?"
"I'll come with you." Zane slides nest to me. Of course he does. The man has zero concept of personal space or appropriate timing.
In the kitchen, I go through the motions of making coffee while Zane leans against the counter, watching me with eyes that see too much.
"Say it," I tell him without turning around.
"Say what?"
"Whatever you're thinking so loudly I can practically hear it."
He's quiet for a beat. Then: "I think you're scared of more than the cold."
I catch the coffee pot as it slips, set it down harder than necessary. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I think you're scared of being happy. Of doing things that serve no purpose except joy."
My chest constricts, ribs squeezing tight around lungs that won't quite expand. I force myself to pour the coffee, to keep my hands steady. "That's not fair."
"No?" He moves closer. Not touching, but his presence is there at my back, his ocean scent wrapping around me. "When's the last time you did anything for fun? Because you wanted to?"
"I do things I want."
"Name one."
"I..." The words die in my throat. The omega rehabilitation project isn't for fun. Neither is therapy. Or learning to cook. Or any of the other things I've been working on. They're all productive. All purposeful. All necessary.
"You can't play. You never learned how. And that's not your fault, Mira. But you're safe now. You're allowed to be silly. To be carefree. To do pointless things that make you smile," Zane says.
Tears burn behind my eyes. My vision blurs. It’s been so long. Too long and I barely remember how. It sounds so easy. Just go and have fun, but in reality I’ve been denied if for so long I don’t know where to start and that’s more than embarrassing. "I don't know…"
His hand settles on my hip. "You want to. I hear the longing in your voice. Let us help you. We're not asking you to freeze to death out there. We're asking you to trust us. For twenty minutes. Half an hour. If you hate it, we come right back inside."
I turn to face him. "You really want this."
"I want you to have every experience you were denied." His gaze is intense, earnest, burning with conviction. "I want you to know what it's like to catch snowflakes on your tongue. To make snow angels. To laugh so hard you forget to be afraid."
"That's a lot to want from some frozen water."
His mouth quirks. "Humor me."
I sip my coffee, buying time. Through the window above the sink, the snow still falls. The backyard is pristine. Untouched. The trees are weighted down with white, their branches bowing under the burden.
Almost pretty.
Almost.
"Let me think about it," I say finally.
"That's all I'm asking." He kisses my forehead, quick and sweet, his lips warm against my skin. "For now."
________________________________________
An hour later, I'm watching from the living room window as the three of them bundle up. They're not pressuring me. Not saying anything. Getting ready to go out themselves.
It shouldn't bother me. They're allowed to have fun without me. But there's this ache in my chest as I watch Zane pull on thick gloves and Cole lace up heavy boots. Adrian catches me watching and gives me a small smile.
"We'll be right outside," he says. "You'll be able to see us the whole time."
I nod, coffee mug warm between my palms.
They file out through the back door, and the cold air that rushes in makes me shiver. My shoulders hunch, body bracing against a threat that isn't really there. But then they're outside and the door is closed and I'm alone in the warm house.
I should be relieved. I told them I didn't want to go, and they respected that. This is exactly what I wanted.
So why does it feel wrong?
Through the window, Zane scoops up a handful of snow and packs it into a ball. He throws it at Adrian, who dodges easily. From here, his grin splits his face. Adrian's shoulders shake with laughter.
Cole stands off to the side, watching them with his arms crossed. His breath fogs in clouds. His posture is rigid, controlled, the way it always is when he's holding himself back from feeling too much.
They look... free. The world isn't heavy on their shoulders. Joy is simple. Uncomplicated.
When was the last time I felt that way?
The answer is never. I've never felt that way. Not in any memory I can access that doesn’t come from childhood with my parents. Then came Haven, where happiness was beaten out of me. And after Haven, came survival. I press my palm against the glass. It's cold against my skin.
Zane throws another snowball, this one at Cole. It hits him square in the chest, exploding into powder against his dark coat.
Cole goes still.
Then he bends down and makes his own snowball. His movements are deliberate. When he stands, there's a shift in his posture. Looser. Less guarded.
He throws the snowball.
It hits Adrian in the shoulder, snow bursting across his expensive jacket.
And Cole laughs.
The sound carries through the glass and straight into my chest where it lodges beneath my sternum. It's not a chuckle or a small sound. It's a real laugh. Full and surprised and genuine and free.
I've never heard Cole laugh that way.
He's letting himself be happy. Despite his everything that haunts him in the dark hours of the night, he's choosing joy in this moment. Choosing to be present. Choosing to live instead of survive.
And if he can do that...
The thought trails off, but my feet are already moving. I set down my coffee mug and head for the mudroom before I can talk myself out of it. 
Adrian appears at the back door before I get there. Snow dusts his dark hair, melting into droplets on his temples. His cheeks are red from the cold, but his eyes are warm when they find mine.
"Changed your mind?" he asks quietly.
"I want to try." My voice is steady though my hands are shaking. "But if I get too cold—"
"We come straight back in. No questions asked. You're in control, Mira," he says.
I nod. He helps me layer up. Thermal leggings under my jeans, the fabric soft and warm against my skin. Two shirts. A thick sweater that smells like cedar because Adrian wore it yesterday. Then the coat he bought me last month, down-filled and butter-soft, the most expensive thing I've ever owned. Gloves. A hat pulled low over my ears. A scarf wrapped twice around my neck until I can barely turn my head.
By the time I'm ready, I'm already warm. Almost too warm. Sweat prickles at the small of my back.
"Good?" Adrian asks.
"I look ridiculous."
"You look beautiful. Come on." He kisses my nose, his lips cold from being outside. 
The first step outside robs the air from my lungs. Cold air rushes in. It's not painful, but my body tenses anyway, muscles locking up, waiting for the suffering to start. It doesn't come.
"Breathe," Adrian’s hand settles at the small of my back, warm through all the layers.
I breathe. The air is crisp. Fresh. It tastes clean, unlike anything I remember. 
"There she is!" Zane's voice carries across the yard, bright with triumph. He's grinning, his eyes dancing with satisfaction. "Knew you couldn't resist."
"I'm reserving judgment," I call back.
Cole watches me approach, his expression unreadable in that way he has. But his quiet approval pulses warm against my spine through the bond.
"So." I stand in the middle of the yard, surrounded by snow that comes halfway up my shins. "Now what?"
"Now we teach you." Zane moves to my side, close enough that his ocean scent cuts through the cold air. "First lesson: snowballs."
He crouches down, scooping up snow with his gloved hands. He packs it together, shaping it into a rough sphere. "See? You want it compact. Not too tight or it becomes an ice ball and someone gets hurt. Not too loose or it falls apart mid-throw."
He hands it to me. I hold the snowball, testing its weight. Cold seeps through my gloves, but not unbearable. 
"Now throw it," Zane says.
"At what?"
"Anything. That tree. Cole. Whatever feels right."
I look at the snowball. At Cole, who's pretending not to pay attention but definitely is. At the pristine snow around us, unmarked except for their footprints.
Then I throw it at Zane.
It hits his shoulder and explodes into powder. Snow cascades down his jacket. His eyes go wide with mock offense, mouth dropping open.
"Oh, that's how it is?"
"You said throw it at whatever felt right," I say, fighting the smile tugging at my lips.
"I'm going to remember this, omega." But he's laughing as he makes another snowball. "Adrian, you see this betrayal?"
"I saw nothing. I was busy admiring the trees." Adrian's tone is serious, but his eyes dance with amusement.
Zane throws his snowball at Adrian. Adrian doesn't try to dodge, takes it right to the chest.
"That's for lying," Zane says.
And then chaos erupts. Snowballs fly in every direction. I duck behind Adrian as Cole and Zane team up against us. Snow explodes against the back of Adrian's coat. Gets in my hair when I peek out to throw my own pathetic attempt. Down my collar when Zane gets a lucky shot that arcs over Adrian's shoulder.
I should hate this. Should be freezing, miserable, begging to go inside where it's warm.
But I'm not.
I'm laughing.
The sound startles me so much I almost stop. Almost swallow it back down where laughter lives in the dark. But then Adrian's chuckling beside me, and Zane's cursing as Cole lands a shot to his back, and the laughter keeps coming. It bubbles up from somewhere deep, somewhere I thought had been scraped clean and empty at Haven.
"Truce!" Zane calls, hands up in surrender. Snow clings to his hair, his jacket, his ridiculous grin. "I surrender!"
"Since when do you surrender at anything?" My cheeks hurt. When did I start smiling this much?
"Since I'm getting destroyed." He grins at me, then his expression shifts. Softens. "You having fun?"
I open my mouth to deflect. To make some joke or change the subject or do anything except be vulnerable and honest. But the words that come out are: "Yes. I'm having fun."
His ocean scent spikes, pleasure and satisfaction rolling off him in waves. "Good. Now let's build a snowman."
________________________________________
The snowman is a disaster. We roll the base too big, the snow heavy and wet and unwieldy. The middle section is too small, comically out of proportion. The head keeps falling off no matter how we position it, tumbling into the snow with soft thuds.
We use rocks for eyes that Adrian produces from his pocket. A carrot for a nose that Cole pulls from his other pocket.
"Were you carrying a carrot around?" I ask, staring at him.
"Came prepared." His voice is gruff, but there's warmth threading through it. Pride.
We find sticks for arms, though they point in completely different directions. One up, one down. The snowman looks drunk. Confused. Right.
We stand back to survey our creation. It's lopsided, leaning hard to the left. One eye is higher than the other. The stick arms make it look as if it's shrugging and waving simultaneously.
"It's the ugliest snowman I've ever seen," I say.
"It's exactly what it should be," Adrian counters, his arm coming around my shoulders.
And somehow, it is. This ridiculous, broken, imperfect thing that we made together. That serves no purpose except to exist. To be proof that we were here, in this moment, choosing joy.
I step back to take it all in. The snowman. My pack, covered in snow and grinning and flushed with cold and happiness. The white world around us, pristine and beautiful and temporary. The cold that's still there but doesn't hurt anymore because it's not survival. It's experience.
Tears burn tracks down my cheeks before I can stop them.
"Mira?" Zane's beside me instantly, his gloved hands cupping my face. "What's wrong? Are you too cold? Do you need to go in?"
"No." The word comes out thick, choked. "No, I'm not... I'm not sad."
"Then what?" Adrian blocks the wind with his body. "Talk to us, sweetheart."
"I didn't know I was allowed to feel this way. To be happy for no reason except that it's a nice day and I'm with people I love and we built an ugly snowman." The admission cracks me open, ribs splitting wide. 
Cole's arm comes around my shoulders from behind. 
"You're allowed," Adrian frames my face, thumbs brushing away tears that fall. "You've always been allowed, Mira. You never had the chance."
"I wasted so much time being afraid."
"You didn't waste anything." Zane squeezes my hand through the layers of gloves. "You survived. That's not nothing. That's everything. And now you get to live too."
The weight of that crashes over me. Surviving versus living. They're not the same thing. They never were.
For so long, survival was enough. More than enough. Making it through another day, another night, another winter without freezing or starving or getting caught and dragged back to Haven. But now...
Now I have this. Them. A future that extends beyond the next meal, the next safe place to sleep, the next moment of borrowed warmth.
"I'm freezing," I whisper.
“Then it’s time for hot chocolate.” Adrian scoops me up before I can protest, cradling me against his chest as he strides toward the house. His cedar scent wraps around me. Cole holds the door open, ushering us inside with one hand on the small of my back. Zane follows close, snow falling from his hair in melting droplets.
I'm shivering now, teeth chattering despite all the layers. My fingers and toes throb as blood rushes back into them. 
"Hot chocolate in a bath," Zane announces, already heading for the stairs two at a time. "I'll get it started."
Adrian sets me down in the mudroom. Cole helps me peel off layers. Wet coat, heavy with melted snow. Soaked gloves that cling to my fingers. Hat that's plastered my hair to my head. Scarf unwinding from my neck, leaving my skin bare and tingling.
By the time we make it upstairs, Zane has the tub filling with hot water. Steam rises in thick clouds, fogging the mirror and warming the air until it's humid and soft.
"In you go," Adrian says.
"All of you," I say. Not a question. A demand. My omega rises, wanting my pack close, wanting their scents surrounding me. "I need all of you."
They exchange glances. Their surprise pulses through our bond, followed quickly by want that crashes against my ribs.
"If that's what you need," Adrian says, always so careful with me.
"It's what I want." I shed the rest of my clothes. They've seen every inch of me. Touched every scar. Kissed every broken place and called it beautiful. "Please."
They don't make me ask twice. The water embraces me, hot enough to chase away the cold, not so hot it scalds. I sink into it with a sound that's half-sigh, half-moan as the guys strip down and climb in around me.
Adrian settles behind me, his broad chest against my back. His legs bracket mine, knees bent to give me space. Zane to my left, close enough that his thigh presses against mine. Cole to my right, brushing my shoulder with a light touch.
Their combined scents wrap around me, mixing with the steam. Cedar and ocean and pine, layering over each other until I can't tell where one ends and another begins. Home. Safety. Pack.
Zane reaches for the shampoo, squirting it into his palm. He works it through my hair, massaging my scalp in slow circles that make my eyes want to close. Cole rests his hand on my knee, his thumb tracing idle patterns against my skin. Circles. Figure-eights. Random designs that make heat pool low in my belly.
Adrian's breath is warm against my ear, stirring the wet strands of hair there. The intimacy of it robs the air from my lungs. Not sexual, though there's heat simmering under my skin, building with each touch. But more than that. Deeper. This is trust. Vulnerability. Safety in its purest form.
"Thank you," I whisper.
"For what?" Zane asks, rinsing soap from my hair.
"For not giving up on me. For being patient. For teaching me how to live."
"You're teaching us too," Adrian says against my ear, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through my spine. "You think we knew how to do this before you? How to be present? How to appreciate what matters?"
"We were going through motions," Cole adds, his deep voice rumbling through the water. "You woke us up."
I twist to look at him. His face is open, vulnerability written in the set of his mouth and the softness around his eyes. The truth of his words pulses against my chest through our connection. The grief he's been carrying isn't gone, but there's space for other things now. For joy. For new love alongside the old.
"I saw you laugh," I tell him, reaching out to touch his jaw. Water drips from my fingers onto his chest. "Earlier. When you hit Adrian with the snowball. It was... it was beautiful."
His throat works, Adam's apple bobbing. "Felt good. Felt as if I'm allowed to be happy again. As if Lily would want me to be."
"You are. We both are." I say, my hand still cupping his jaw.
Zane's hands still in my hair. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." I let my head fall back against Adrian's shoulder, exposing my throat and the silvery bond marks there. "I'm done surviving. I want to live. Really live. And I want to do it with all of you."
The shift in energy is immediate. Electric. The bond between us flares hot and bright, pleasure and want and need cascading through the connection.
Zane's hand slides from my hair to my jaw, turning my face toward him. His ocean scent spikes, going sharp and heady with arousal. Adrian's arms tighten around me, his chest expanding against my back as he inhales deeply. Cole's grip on my knee firms, fingers pressing into soft flesh.
"You sure?" Adrian asks, his voice dropping an octave. The alpha rumble beneath it makes my omega sing, slick starting to gather between my thighs. "We can stay this way. You don't owe us—"
"I'm not paying a debt." I cut him off, twisting in his arms to face him properly. Water sloshes over the edge of the tub, splashing onto the tile. "I want this. I want you. All of you. I need to feel alive in every way."
His eyes search mine, those intelligent eyes that see everything. Looking for doubt, for hesitation, for any sign I'm not ready.
He won't find any.
"Take me to the nest," I say.
________________________________________
Soft blankets cradle us as we tumble onto the bed, still damp from the bath. The scent of my pack surrounds me, mixing with my own scent until the air is thick and heady with it.
Adrian's mouth finds mine before we've settled. His kiss is slow, thorough, tasting of patience and want and depth. He cups the back of my head, angling me exactly where he wants me.
I open for him, letting his tongue sweep into my mouth. The kiss deepens, his fingers threading through my damp hair, holding me steady as he explores.
Zane's lips trace my shoulder, working their way up to my neck. His teeth graze the sensitive spot behind my ear that makes me shiver and gasp against Adrian's mouth. He maps my ribs, counting each one, then slides to my waist and grips the curve of my hip.
Cole's solid presence grounds me from behind. His palm spreads across my stomach, fingers splaying wide, holding me against the furnace of his chest. His breath is warm against my shoulder blade. His carefully controlled desire pulses through the bond.
I break away from Adrian's kiss. "Don't hold back. None of you. I want everything."
"Mira." Adrian's scent has gone dark and rich, woodsmoke and want. "We need to be careful with you."
I reach up to cup his jaw, feeling the scratch of stubble against my palm. "I'm not going to break. Not anymore."
"You're sure?" Zane's mouth is hot against my throat, his words vibrating against my skin. "Once we start—"
"I'm sure." I arch into their touches, my body already responding. "I need to feel you. All of you. Please."
“As you wish, omega.” Adrian's kiss turns demanding. He slides his hand from my hair to my throat, not squeezing but holding. Claiming. Zane's mouth closes over my breast, his tongue working my nipple into a peak. He slides his hand between my thighs, fingers finding the slick already there. "Fuck, you're so wet already."
"For you," I gasp. "All of you."
Cole's hand joins Zane's, their fingers working together, sliding through slick and finding all the places that make me whimper. His other hand cups my breast, thumb circling my nipple while Zane's mouth moves to the other.
The sensation is overwhelming. Too much and not enough. Three sets of hands on my body, three alpha scents surrounding me, three distinct wants pulsing through the bond and crashing into mine.
"Adrian," I breathe against his mouth. "Please."
He knows what I need. He always knows. He grips my hips, lifting me easily, positioning me over him. The head of his cock presses against my entrance, blunt and thick and right.
"Look at me," he says.
I meet his eyes as he pushes inside. The stretch is exquisite, familiar, right. My body accepts him easily, slick-wet and ready, made for this. For him. For them.
When he's fully seated, buried deep inside me, we both groan. His forehead drops to mine, breath coming hard. "You feel incredible. So good. So ours."
"Yours," I agree, the word hitching as he starts to move. Slow, controlled thrusts that light up every nerve ending. "All yours."
Zane tangles his hand in my hair, pulling enough to make my scalp tingle. His ocean eyes burn into mine, possessive and dark with want. "You're so beautiful right now. Do you know that? Do you have any idea what you do to us?"
I don't have words. Can't form them. So I show them instead, through the bond. Let them feel what they make me feel. Safe. Wanted. Cherished. Claimed. Real. Alive.
Cole's mouth finds my shoulder, his teeth grazing the mating mark. The touch of teeth on the scarred flesh sends sensation shooting through the bond, amplified and reflected back. I clench around Adrian, dragging a groan from deep in his chest.
"That's it," Adrian growls, his grip on my hips tightening. His thrusts speed up, going harder, deeper. "Let go, sweetheart. We've got you."
Zane circles my clit with his fingers, the pressure flawless. Cole squeezes my breast, timing it with Adrian's thrusts. Their touches coordinate, work together, three alphas focused on one goal: taking me apart.
The pleasure builds, coiling tighter in my belly. My thighs start to shake. Adrian's knot is swelling, catching on each thrust, stretching me further. The bite of pain mixed with pleasure makes everything sharper.
"Come for us. Let us feel it." Zane demands against my ear. 
"Come on our alpha's knot. Show him how good he makes you feel." Cole adds.
The dual command, the pressure on my clit, the fullness of Adrian inside me and his knot catching is too much. The orgasm crashes through me. I clench around Adrian, inner muscles fluttering and grasping.
Adrian growls, the sound pure alpha. His knot swells fully, locking us together as he comes. The sensation of his release, makes my orgasm extend, drawing out until I'm shaking and gasping and clinging to him.
Echoes of his pleasure mix with mine through our bond. Zane's vicarious satisfaction pulses warm against my ribs, Cole's quiet joy at witnessing this. The emotions tangle and amplify until I can't separate them.
We collapse together, maneuvering carefully so we don't pull on the knot. Adrian arranges us on our sides, still locked together, his arms wrapped tight around me. Zane presses against my front, his arousal evident against my thigh. Cole's solid presence at my back, his hand possessive on my hip.
"Give me a minute.  My knot will go down soon." Adrian pants against my hair. 
"No rush," I murmur. His contentment wraps around me. "This is right."
Zane trails his hand down my side, fingers dancing over my ribs. "Don't get too comfortable. We're not done with you yet."
A thrill runs through me. My omega is already stirring again, responding to their want. To the knowledge that I'm theirs, that they're mine, that this is safe and right and exactly what I need.
When Adrian's knot finally goes down, he pulls out carefully. Zane is there, gripping my thighs, spreading me open.
"Look at you. Messy and beautiful and ours," he breathes, staring at where Adrian's release is leaking out of me. 
"Zane." My face heats, but I don't close my legs. Don't hide. This is pack. This is trust.
He looks up at me, his eyes dark with want. "Can I taste you?"
The question makes fresh slick gather. "Yes. Please."
He doesn't waste time. His mouth is on me, tongue lapping up the mixture of my slick and Adrian's release. He grips my thighs, holding me open as he works, his tongue delving inside me, circling my clit, driving me higher again.
Cole cups my breast, playing with my nipple while Adrian's mouth claims mine in a deep kiss. When Zane pushes two fingers inside me, curling them to hit that spot, I come again. Shorter this time but no less intense, pleasure sparking through every nerve.
Zane pulls back, his mouth wet and shining. "You taste incredible. Like pack. Like ours."
"Need you," I gasp. "Zane, please."
He's already moving, between my thighs. His cock slides through my folds, gathering slick, before pressing inside. The slide is easy, my body relaxed and ready, but the fullness still makes me moan.
"Fuck," he groans, his hips snapping forward. "So good. So wet. Taking me so well."
His pace is faster than Adrian's, more intense. Zane does everything with singular focus, and right now that focus is making me fall apart. He grips my hips, holding me steady as he drives into me over and over.
Cole slides his hand down my stomach to where Zane and I are joined. His thick fingers find my clit, rubbing in time with Zane's thrusts. The dual sensation makes my eyes roll back.
"That's it," Cole rumbles. "Take what you need."
I'm babbling now, words tumbling out without thought. Please and yes and more and don't stop. The pleasure builds again, impossible but inevitable. How many times can they make me come? How much can my body take?
"Come," Zane’s knot is starting to swell, catching with each thrust. "Come on my knot, omega. Let me feel you shatter."
The command combined with Cole's fingers sends me over the edge again. I clench around Zane, dragging him with me. His knot swells fully, locking us together as he empties inside me with a groan that sounds like my name.
We end up on our sides again, Zane wrapped around me from the front, Cole pressed against my back. Adrian reaches across to touch my face, his cedar scent wrapping around us all.
"You're incredible. Absolutely incredible," Zane murmurs against my hair.
Their satisfaction and love pulse warm and constant through our bond. 
When Zane's knot goes down, I'm boneless and floating. But Cole's need pulses through the bond, patient but present.
"Cole?" I twist to look at him. His dark eyes are soft, watchful. 
"You don't have to. You've had enough."
"I want to." I reach for him, my hand finding his jaw. "I want all of you. Please, Cole. I need you."
His control cracks. His mouth crashes into mine, kiss deep and claiming. When he pulls back, his eyes have gone dark with want.
"On your hands and knees," he commands, voice rough.
I move to obey, my body responding to him. The position leaves me vulnerable, exposed, exactly where I want to be. Cole smooths his hands over my back, down to my hips. His touch is careful despite his size, despite the barely-leashed control thrumming through the bond.
"So beautiful. So strong. So ours," he murmurs.
When he pushes inside, the angle is different. Deeper. He fills me completely, stretching me in the best way. He grips my hips as he starts to move, slow and controlled at first.
Adrian moves to lie beneath me, his mouth finding mine in an upside-down kiss. Zane slides his hand under me to play with my breasts, rolling my nipples between his fingers.
Cole's pace increases, his hips snapping against mine. The sound of skin on skin fills the nest, mixing with our breathing and the scent of pack and sex.
"Not going to last. You feel too good," Cole grits out.
"Don't last then. Give me everything."
His control shatters. He drives into me harder, faster, chasing his release. When his knot starts to swell, I come again. Smaller this time, a gentle rolling wave rather than a crash.
Cole's groan is low and deep as he comes, his knot locking us together. He maneuvers us onto our sides carefully, spooning me from behind, one arm wrapped around my waist.
Adrian's hand finds mine, fingers threading together. Zane rests his hand on my hip, his ocean scent mixing with Cole's pine and Adrian's cedar until the whole nest smells like us. Like pack.
"Okay?" Cole asks quietly, his breath warm against my shoulder.
"Better than okay." Their love wraps around me through our connection. This is what I never knew I could have. What I never dared hope for.
When Cole's knot goes down and he pulls out, they rearrange us into a pile of tangled limbs. Zane pulls a soft blanket over us, tucking it around my shoulders. Adrian strokes my hair. Cole's arm stays locked around my waist, holding me close.
"Thank you," I whisper into the growing twilight. Snow continues to fall outside, but here in my nest, surrounded by warmth and love and safety, I'm not cold at all.
"For what?" Adrian asks softly.
"For teaching me how to play. How to live. How to be happy." Tears leak from the corners of my eyes, but they're good tears. Happy tears. "For giving me a reason to want to see tomorrow."
"You gave us that too. You have no idea how much you changed us," Zane says, his hand finding mine under the blankets. 
"We're better because of you," Cole adds, his voice a low rumble against my back.
"We're better together. All of us. Pack."
Outside, the world is cold and white and pristine. But here, wrapped in my alphas' arms, surrounded by their scents and their love and the physical proof of our bond, I'm warm. I'm protected.
I'm home.
I'm alive.
And for the first time in my life, I'm not afraid of tomorrow. I'm looking forward to it. To more days with them. More laughter and joy and playfulness mixed with the quiet moments and the hard work of healing.
I'm not surviving anymore.
I'm living.
My eyes drift closed, exhaustion pulling me under. Adrian's hand is still in my hair. Zane's fingers are still laced with mine. Cole's arm is still locked around my waist.
The snow keeps falling outside, soft and silent and beautiful. And somewhere in the cabin, the Christmas tree lights still glow, sparkling and warm. The first Christmas that's mine.
And I fall asleep smiling.