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“I want him to choose us,” Cade said quietly, his voice steel. “Not feel trapped by us. Not confused by us. If we continue pushing, testing our control around him, something will inevitably break. And the consequences could be devastating.”

“So we watch over him from a distance,” Keir summarized.

“We watch him mature,” Cade said firmly. “Discover himself. Become the artist he aspires to be. And when he’s ready—when he understands who and what he is—then we bring him home.”

“And if he never returns?” Logan asked, voicing the fear that haunted all three of them. “If the Shadow Harvesters find him first?”

Cade’s eyes flashed silver, his control slipping for just a moment. “He’ll return. The bond won’t permit him to stay away indefinitely. And neither will we. As for the Harvesters…” His voice dropped to a dangerous growl. “…they will never touch what’s ours.”

His wolf snarled in agreement, unwilling to accept even the possibility of failure. Their mate had responded to them today—had trembled under Cade’s touch, had looked at them with confusion but also with desire. The bond between them was already forming, already pulling them together despite Finn’s misunderstanding of its nature.

“We should speak with the council this evening,” Logan said, already planning. “Perhaps there are alternative protections they can suggest.”

“And I’ll begin establishing security networks in Seattle and Portland,” Keir added. “Just in case. We’ll be ready wherever he chooses to go.”

Cade nodded, pride in his brothers mixing with the ache of their shared decision. It was only a matter of time before Finn was truly theirs.

Even if they had to let him go first.

Chapter 7

Iremained frozen in place long after the brothers left, my brain struggling to process what had just happened. What had I been thinking? Or rather, what had my body been thinking? Because my brain certainly hadn’t authorized leaning in toward Cade like some desperate, touch-starved idiot.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I muttered, tugging at Cade’s shirt that still engulfed me, his scent wrapped around me like a second skin. Cedar and alpha male, a combination that should be bottled and labeled Dangerous to Fox Shifters.

I glanced down at myself, the sleeves hanging past my fingertips, the hem reaching mid-thigh. The shirt was ridiculously large on me, making me look like a child playing dress-up—which was exactly how Cade saw me. That forehead kiss had made it painfully clear. The kind of kiss you give a little brother, a child, not someone you desire.

Not that I wanted him to desire me. Because that would be wrong. Inappropriate. Completely messed up.

So why did my heart feel like it had been stomped on?

“Because the universe hates you,” I told my reflection in the glass wall. “It wasn’t enough to make you a defective shifter. It had to make you fated mates with your adoptive brothers too.”

My fox ears flattened against my head, and my tail curled tighter around my waist. At least the partial shift gave me a physical outlet for my emotions, even if it was mortifying.

I grabbed my sketchbook, needing to get this confusion out of my system. Drawing had always been my therapy, my way of processing emotions too complicated for words. My hand moved almost of its own accord, charcoal flying across the page in harsh, agitated strokes.

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been drawing when a knock at the door pulled me from my trance.

“Yo, fox-face. You alive in there?” Drew’s voice called through the door.

“Unfortunately,” I called back, not looking up from my sketch.

The door opened, and Drew strolled in, immediately raising an eyebrow at the sight of me in Cade’s shirt. “Nice outfit. Very ‘morning after.’”

“Shut up,” I growled, flipping my sketchbook closed before he could see what I’d been drawing. “There was a paint accident.”

“So I heard,” Drew said, dropping into the chair across from me. “Elena is lamenting the loss of one of Cade’s custom shirts. Apparently, it was Italian.”

“Of course it was,” I groaned, looking down at the garment with new horror. “He probably paid more for this than my entire wardrobe.”

“Probably,” Drew agreed cheerfully. “But he won’t care. He has like fifty identical ones.”

I made a mental note to wash it carefully before returning it. Assuming I could ever look Cade in the eye again after nearly kissing him.

“So,” Drew said, studying me with unusual intensity. “Want to tell me why the brothers bolted out of here like their tails were on fire?”

“Pack business,” I said. “Some meeting with the northern representatives.”