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The biggest of them. Broad, intimidating, dark-eyed and darker inked. The one who hasn’t kissed me. My omega hates that. He hasn’t moved since returning. He just watches me. Watches the way my fingers curl into the blanket. The way I sway slightly on my feet, like my body already knows what it wants before my mind catches up.

Likeheknows.

His arms are crossed over his chest, thick with muscle and ink, veins cutting through his forearms like rivers. One long line of patience and power.

My omega whines quietly inside me. Restless. Needy.Incomplete.

And still, Dane doesn’t move.

Not until his voice breaks the silence.

“Come here, little omega.”

The words land in my chest like a stone dropped into still water – deep, rippling, impossible to ignore.

Without thinking, I drop to my knees and crawl to him, drawn by the pull in his voice, by the weight of his stillness. When I reach him, he meets me halfway, kneeling and reachingout, big hands settling on my waist. He lifts me like I weigh nothing, pulling me up into his arms as he stands.

The moment his deep, heavy scent surrounds me, I melt. My bodysighs. My omega all but purrs.

He sets me down but holds me close, letting me breathe him in. Letting my scent press into his skin, while his sinks deeper into mine. I rise up onto my tiptoes and rub my face along the rough line of his jaw, nuzzling without shame. Needing it. Needinghim.

When he finally lets go, it’s only to guide me down onto the plush mattress. I hadn’t noticed it before, but the moment I land, I swear – it’s like falling into a cloud. The softest thing I’ve ever touched in my life.

“Lie down,” Dane says, voice low, thick with heat and something else. “Make it yours.”

I sink into the mattress, pressing my face into the blankets, into the pillows that already carry hints of them. Their scents are everywhere. Warm and sharp and grounding.

I roll onto my back and stare up at the star-lit ceiling, and something settles in my chest. Heavy. Peaceful. A warmth unlike anything I’ve ever known seeps into my bones.

Xar and Blaise join me slowly. Blaise tucks himself on one side, lazy and smug, propping his head on his hand like he’s already planning to stay there forever. Xar settles behind me, solid and steady, his hand resting lightly on my hip – anchoring me without caging me.

Dane stands at the edge of the bed, eyes on me.

“This is yours, Evie,” he says softly. “All of it. Whenever you need it.”

Then, slowly – like he knows exactly what the moment means – he undresses. No performance, no rush. Just quiet reverence.

He folds each piece of clothing and passes them to me.

And I take them like they’re sacred.

Because they are.

His scent sinks into the nest like the final note in a perfect chord.

And finally…finally…it’s complete.

For the first time in my life, I believe this is mine. One thing that belongs tome. That Ideserve.

As I curl into the centre of my nest, surrounded by their scents – and them – I let myself feel it: Safe. Held. Home.

Everything is simply perfect.

The scent of them is everywhere even though I instantly know I’m alone.

I breathe through my mouth, but it doesn’t help. Their scents cling to the blankets, the pillows, the very air in the room – thick and consuming, flooding my senses until my body trembles with the urge to submit. My heat flash has faded, but the aftershocks linger, and the alphas’ presence only stokes the embers of something I’m desperately trying to suppress.

I can’t stay here.