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There’s a beat of silence, and then Blaise grins like it’s Christmas morning. “You hear that, lads? We’re distracting.”

“Please don’t let him run with that,” Xar mutters.

But there’s no teasing in his eyes when he looks at me again – just something steady. Anchoring.

“We’ve got time,” he says quietly, almost to himself.

And maybe…maybe we do.

I take another bite, slower this time, letting the flavors roll over my tongue – golden edges, soft middle, a hint of cinnamon and something citrusy Blaise must’ve added just to show off before Xar took over. It’s good. Too good.

A girl could get used to eating like this. Sure as hell beats my usual breakfast choices.

“So,” Blaise says, leaning his elbows on the table with a grin, “what’s your favourite breakfast food, omega?”

I grin at the teasing lilt in his voice, but answer anyway. “Honestly? I’ve got a sweet tooth. Always have. But I try to ignore it most of the time.”

“You try to ignore it?” Dane echoes, like I’ve just admitted to kicking puppies.

“I usually just have toast,” I say with a shrug. “Plain. Butter, if I’m feeling fancy.”

There’s a collective beat of stunned silence.

Blaise drops his fork with a dramatic gasp. “Toast? Plain toast? DRY toast?! Butter isfancy?!”

“You make it sound like a war crime,” I mutter, cheeks heating.

Xar frowns like he’s just discovered a crime scene. “Wait— So...you’ve never had French toast before?”

I shake my head, sheepish. “Nope. First time. I was raised on granola and almond milk. Homemade. Unsweetened.” I shudder. “It was like eating gravel soaked in regret.”

That gets a low laugh from Dane, the sound vibrating down my spine. “So, toast felt indulgent.”

“Exactly,” I say, grateful they’re not pitying me – just quietly horrified. “Just plain, sometimes buttered toast. Still does. I guess…I never let myself want much more than that.”

The table goes quiet for a moment, not heavy or awkward – just full of something unspoken. Understanding, maybe.

Blaise breaks it, his voice softer now. “Well, buckle up, sugarplum. You’ve got a lot of breakfasts to catch up on.”

“Tomorrow?” Dane adds, nudging a strawberry toward my plate. “Pancakes.”

“And you’re never eating granola again,” Xar says, firm and final.

I grin down at my plate, letting their warmth wrap around me like sunlight. The storm outside may still be raging, but in here, over French toast and banter and scent-heavy air, something is finally settling inside me.

A new beginning.

EVIANA

When we’re all done, I gather two of the plates automatically, sliding to my feet before I even think about it.

But three chairs scrape back almost at once, and suddenly I’m surrounded.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Blaise says, plucking the dishes from my hands with a grin. “Absolutely not. You cooked nothing, so you clean nothing.”

“I can help,” I say, though it comes out a little too defensive. “It’s my house. You shouldn’t even be cooking. You’re my guests so I should be doing everything.”

Grams would be turning in her grave for so many reasons, but being a bad host is probably the worst in her eyes.Well, thatand shacking up with alphas in her house.The thought makes me bite back a smile.