The Omega Mated To The Four

Chapter 43

Chapter Forty Three

The warmth of Elijah's embrace had anchored me through what felt ke endless waves of grief. My body trembled from exhaustion, my face buried in his chest as tears continued to flow. But eventually the storm began to ebb, leaving me breathless and drained.

I shifted slightly, finally looking up from Elijah's chest. My vision was still blurry from crying, but the sight before me stopped me.

Austin stood in the doorway, dorning an apron, his broad shoulders slumped as he rubbed at his eyes. He looked utterly miserable.

"Austin?" I croaked, my voice hoarse from crying, "Why are you crying?"

Austin sniffed dramatically, his lower lip quivering. "It's the onions," he said, holding up his hands, which were covered in faint smears of onion juice. "I was trying to cook something for all of us, and now my eyes feel like they're on fire. Every time I blink, it's like onions rubbing themselves deeper into my eyes."

I stared at him, stunned for a moment by the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. Then, unexpectedly, a giggle bubbled up from Mythroat.

It started small, barely audible, but soon grew louder until I was clutching my stomach and laughing.

"There she is,” Alex said from where he stood near the window, his lips twitching into a smile. He walked over and kissed my cheek,

his warm touch chasing away some of the lingering sadness.

catch my breath. "Austin, you're a mess. I said, still

The sight of him standing there in an apron-one that read Kiss the Cook- only made

my voice lighter than it had been in

me for trying to make sure we don't all starve," Austin huffed, though the corners of his mouth twitched as if he

fighting back a grin.

a soft chuckle, his hand running soothingly down my back. "We appreciate the

list of survival tips," Austin

and despite myself, my stomach growled. I hadn't realized how hungry I

until now.

as I took a moment

small of my back.

where Austin was stirring something in a pot. His apron was now slightly singed, and there were smudges

making?" I asked, leaning against the

comforting, and most importantly,

the small dining

spoon. "I'll have you know I followed a recipe.

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