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“We have a duty to him,” Cade said aloud, his voice firm. “To protect him, no matter what it takes.”

“More than duty,”Logan added silently.“He needs to know this isn’t just about the mate bond or obligation. That we’ve wanted him for years.”

“That we love him,”Keir agreed through the bond.“Have loved him since before the Augury confirmed what our hearts already knew.”

Their conversation continued, the spoken words focused on protection and threats while their mental exchange centered on love and devotion.

“I think we should tell him tonight,” Cade finally decided, moving to the window to gaze out at the ocean. “About his heritage, about the seal. He deserves to know who he really is.”

“Agreed,” Logan nodded, his earlier frustration replaced with determination. “No more secrets about his parents or his abilities.”

“And if he runs?” Keir asked quietly, voicing the fear they all shared.

Cade turned back to face his brothers, his expression resolute. “Then we follow. Always.”

Chapter 21

Iheard the distinctive rumble of the Range Rover’s engine long before it pulled into the driveway. Werewolf hearing might not be my forte, but I’d spent enough years cataloging the sounds of their arrivals to recognize it anywhere. My body reacted before my brain could intervene—heart racing, skin flushing, fox ears threatening to pop out in excitement.

Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.

A month of falling asleep in their beds—alternating between Cade’s commanding presence, Logan’s protective embrace, and Keir’s playful affection—had turned me into a lovesick puppy who couldn’t wait five minutes for them to walk through the door. Thirty days of morning kisses over coffee, of being pulled into laps and against walls for impromptu makeout sessions, of feeling wanted and cherished had apparently erased years of independence.

The acceptance letter from Seattle Art Institute sat on my desk, a reminder that the future I’d planned had turned my world upside down. I’d been so excited yesterday when it arrived, had immediately shown them, expecting… what? Disappointment? Arguments? Instead, they’d seemed almostrelieved, congratulating me with kisses and promises to help me move.

That should have been my first clue, but I’d been too wrapped up in their attention to notice.

“This is embarrassing,” I muttered to myself as my feet carried me toward Cade’s office. “You saw them three hours ago. You have paint to mix. Compositions to plan. Some dignity to salvage.”

My body didn’t care. It wanted what it wanted, and apparently what it wanted was another fix of alpha pheromones and possessive touches. I was halfway to Cade’s office before my brain caught up with my feet.

I paused outside the heavy oak door, hand raised to knock. Through the wood, I could hear their voices—deep, resonant, achingly familiar. I hesitated, fingers hovering inches from the polished surface, suddenly feeling silly. They’d just returned from whatever wolf business had called them away. They probably needed to shower, to decompress. I could wait until dinner to throw myself at them like the shameless creature I’d apparently become.

But then I heard my name, and curiosity got the better of me.

“…worse than we thought…” Cade’s voice drifted through, fragments of conversation reaching me.

I leaned closer, straining to hear more, my fox ears manifesting without my permission, swiveling toward the sound.

“…How can it be him? He’s just a kid, a bratty little fox who can barely control his shift…” Logan’s irritated tone cut through clearly, each word a knife in my chest.

Wait. What?

“…Fate has a twisted sense of humor…” Keir’s resigned sigh followed.

My heart stuttered, then began pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. This couldn’t be what it sounded like. There had to be context I was missing. After everything we’d shared—the intimacy, the laughter, the countless moments where they’d made me feel like I was the center of their universe—they couldn’t be talking about me like this.

“…have a duty to him…” Cade’s authoritative voice concluded.

Duty.

The word echoed in my mind, shattering everything I’d allowed myself to believe over the past month. Not desire. Not affection. Certainly not love. Duty.

I stumbled back from the door, my hand pressed against my mouth to stifle the sound that threatened to escape—something between a gasp and a sob. My mind raced, desperately trying to find an alternative explanation, anything that would make those words mean something different.

Maybe they were talking about someone else?

But Logan had specifically mentioned a fox who couldn’t control his shift. That was me. Unmistakably me.