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“The night’s just starting,” Drew protested. “We were going to watch that new werewolf movie that gets everything hilariously wrong.”

“Rain check,” I said, standing up and gathering Pixel in my arms. “Some of us need our beauty sleep.”

“You’re beautiful enough already,” Keir said, his voice pitched low but not low enough that the others couldn’t hear.

I felt heat rise to my cheeks and knew from the way Sophia and Mia exchanged glances that they’d caught the comment. Great. More fuel for the supernatural gossip mill.

“Right,” I said awkwardly. “Well, good night, everyone. It was nice meeting you all.”

“I’ll walk you up,” Logan said, already rising from his seat, much to Mia’s obvious disappointment.

“No need,” I replied quickly—too quickly. “I know the way. I’ve only lived here most of my life.”

“Finn—” Cade began, his tone carrying a warning.

“Mochi, Boba, come,” I called, cutting him off. Both animals immediately perked up, abandoning their strategic positions near the food to follow me. At least someone in this house listened to me.

I didn’t wait for further protests, making my escape with as much dignity as possible while carrying a one-eyed cat and being trailed by two dogs. Behind me, I could hear the conversation resuming, Sophia’s laugh carrying across the dining room as she said something to Cade.

The knot in my stomach tightened. It shouldn’t bother me. It shouldn’t matter. They weren’t really my brothers, but they weren’t really my mates either—not in any way that counted. They were just… Cade, Logan, and Keir. Three impossibly perfect werewolves who could have anyone they wanted.

And why would they want me when they could have someone like Sophia or Mia?

I reached my room and closed the door behind me, leaning against it as Pixel squirmed to be let down. Mochi whined softly, sensing my distress, while Boba flopped onto the floor with a dramatic sigh.

“At least you guys get me,” I murmured, sliding down to sit on the floor. Mochi immediately crawled into my lap, resting his head on my knee.

I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t be jealous. I’d spent a month avoiding them, for God’s sake. If they wanted to flirt with beautiful werewolf women, that was their business.

So why did it feel like my heart was being torn apart?

I dragged myself into the en suite bathroom, peeling off clothes that smelled like a nauseating combination of jealousy and expensive perfume. The Blackwood cousins had apparently bathed in their fragrances before dinner. My fox nose was sensitive on a good day, and today had definitely not qualified as “good.”

The shower helped. Hot water sluiced away the day’s tensions, if not the memory of Keir’s lips on my forehead or the sight of Sophia’s perfectly manicured hand on Cade’s arm. By the time I emerged in a cloud of steam, I’d almost convinced myself I didn’t care who mynot really brothersflirted with.

Almost.

I rummaged through my dresser for something comfortable, settling on a pair of worn cotton shorts and an oversized t-shirt that had once belonged to Logan before I’d commandeered it for painting. The summer heat had turned the mansion into a sauna, even with the air-conditioning working overtime. The shirt kept slipping off one shoulder, but it was too hot to care about modesty in the privacy of my own room.

My pets had arranged themselves in their usual positions—Pixel on the pillow beside mine, Mochi at the foot of the bed, and Boba sprawled dramatically on the floor like a furry throw rug. I grabbed the latest volume of my favorite manga series and settled against the headboard, determined to lose myself in someone else’s problems for a change.

“At least in manga, people actually say what they mean,” I muttered to Pixel, who blinked her one good eye in what I chose to interpret as agreement.

From somewhere down the hall, I could hear Drew and his friends laughing, the sound of their banter drifting through the walls. The Blackwood cousins were probably still downstairs,working their supernatural charm on Cade and Logan. The thought sent another unwelcome pang through my chest.

“Not your business,” I reminded myself, flipping a page with more force than necessary. “Not your wolves.”

Except they were, according to some cosmic joke of fate. My mates. Three alpha werewolves who saw me as nothing more than their awkward adopted brother who needed protection from his own shadow.

I must have dozed off somewhere between chapters, because the next thing I knew, a sharp knock on my door jolted me awake. The manga volume slid from my chest to the floor with a soft thud.

“Go away,” I called, not bothering to open my eyes. “I’m becoming one with my mattress.”

The door opened anyway. Of course it did. Privacy was a theoretical concept in this house.

“That doesn’t look very comfortable,” Keir’s voice, low and amused, cut through the darkness.

I cracked one eye open to find him leaning against my doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. He’d changed into sleep pants and a thin t-shirt that clung to his shoulders in ways that should be illegal.