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I feel a little smug. “Yeah. They do.”

She’s quiet for a moment, then takes another bite of her donut. “Any word on the stalker thing?”

I shake my head. “No. Leith says she’s gone underground. It’s driving him insane.”

Lark looks thoughtful, chewing slowly. After a beat she says, “Have you ever considered that maybe Leith shows his affection a little differently than the rest of your alphas?”

I blink. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe protecting you—really protecting you, hunting down the person who hurt you—is how he shows he cares. Some alphas aren’t great with soft words or cuddles. But they’ll burn the world down to keep you safe.”

I go quiet, turning that over in my head.

Before I can respond, Belinda appears in the doorway with a warm smile. “Good morning, ladies. Can I get you anything else? More coffee? Fresh fruit?”

We both shake our heads, thanking her. Once she leaves, Lark and I dive back into reports, test data, and shipping timelines. There’s still a lot to catch up on, and not a lot of time to talk about the fun stuff. Or in this case, the confusing-as-fuck stuff. But Lark’s words linger in the back of my mind like a quiet little question mark.

The whole two plus two thing still feels complicated. Two scent matches. Two alphas who aren’t. It needs figuring out. But the longer I’m here, the clearer it becomes to me. I’m ready to bond.

Lark needed time to know her alphas before she let them claim her. I've never worked that way. I go on instinct. Always have. And right now, my instincts are screaming that this is it. All four of them. I feel the pull, even with Leith and his emotional fortress. And I know it’s real. Even if it’s not fully there yet with everyone, I know they’re mine.

They’re it for me. But I won’t do it without all of them. Not one piece missing. Not one alpha left on the outside looking in.

I take another sip of coffee, pushing the heavy thoughts aside for now, and smile at Lark as we dive back into the reports. I’ll take this one day (and maybe one alpha) at a time.

twenty-nine

Camelia

The open closet door is the first thing I see when I open my eyes and remember where I am. I blink at it for a second, still groggy from my nap, then swing my legs over the side of the bed. Donuts & Data turns out to be way more exhausting than I remember. Who knew catching up on two weeks of work could flatten me so completely.

The room is quiet. I glance around, half-expecting to see one of the guys lurking in the armchair or hovering near the door like they’ve done for the past couple of weeks. But no one’s here. Not even Finn with his quiet presence or Piers with his endless bossing. My omega, who has gotten embarrassingly used to waking up to someone, is not pleased about it. Neither am I.

I carefully push myself up. I’m still moving slow, but it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as it did even a few days ago. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand, stretching again. The oversized shirt I’d stolen from Finn is all rumpled now, the hem twisted around my thighs. I head for the closet to find something fresh to wear.

The second I walk through the door, I freeze. My small collection of lounge clothes has expanded into something that indicates a much longer stay. Rack after rack of new outfits fills the space. Everything is bright, soft, and fun. Sundresses in hot pink and sunshine yellow, silky blouses, buttery-soft lounge sets in every shade of the rainbow. Drawers are packed with leggings, sleep shorts, and loungewear that looks like it was custom-made for me. Everything is vibrant. Everything is me.

I reach out and run my fingers over a gorgeous emerald green two-piece set. The tag says Retrofête and the price is a lot. My eyes bug out.

Holy shit balls.

The number on that tag could cover my groceries for two months. I check another. Then another. Every single piece still has the price tag attached. This isn’t a thoughtful little get well soon wardrobe. This is a serious, no expenses spared investment.

I stand there in Finn’s rumpled shirt, surrounded by a small fortune in clothes, and feel a strange mix of overwhelmed, touched, and excited. Piers did all this while I was sleeping. Because it couldn’t be anyone but Piers. Right?

I run my fingers over a soft lavender cashmere tank and let out a slow breath. These men are going to spoil me rotten and I’m going to let them.

I turn around and freeze again. Laid out neatly on the plush bench in the middle of the closet is a complete outfit, like someone knew exactly what I’d want to wear today. A soft, oversized bright pink T-shirt and the cutest leggings I’ve ever seen. They are green and pink, my favorites, with little purple lightning bolts all over them.

I don’t even hesitate. I strip out of Finn’s rumpled shirt and pull on the new clothes. The fabric is cloud-soft and stretchy in all the right places. The shirt drapes perfectly. The leggings hug my legs without squeezing the still-tender spots. It feels so good.

I find a bright purple headband on one of the shelves, finger-comb my bob, and push it back from my face. A quick glance in the mirror makes me smile. Much better.

I pad out of the bedroom on bare feet, following the low murmur of voices toward the main living area. My heart does a little flip that’s part nerves, part excitement. When I reach the living room, I stop in the doorway.

Finn and Leith are cuddled together on the sofa. Finn is tucked against Leith’s side, head resting on his shoulder, while Leith has one arm draped loosely around him. They’re murmuring softly to each other about something I can’t quite hear. Seeing them like this, quiet and at ease with one another, hits me right in the chest. God, they look good together. I want to be right there with them.

Leith looks up first. His eyes lock onto me, steady and unreadable as always. A second later Finn follows his gaze, and his whole face softens when he sees me.