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The third is imposing, which is impossible to ignore. His body is massive—broad chest, slim waist, thick, muscular thighs that I really shouldn’t be looking at right now, but my brain betrays me. I feel slick gather between my thighs, and I internally curse my omega instincts for reacting so blatantly. His black hair is slightly tousled but in a way that looks intentional and effortlessly rugged. He stands with his hands in his pockets, seemingly relaxed, but I see how his blue eyes burn. Feral. Hungry. Claiming.

Jace.

And then there’s the last one. The one bouncing on his toes, unable to contain himself, the excitement radiating off him in waves. He’s leaner but firm, and his black hair is slicked back, making him look even more put together than usual. But it’s his grin that gets me. Like he’s won, like I’m the prize he always knew he’d claim. His brown eyes shine behind round glasses, which he pushes up into place with the tip of his finger, never breaking eye contact with me.

Romano.

I exhale, my heart hammers, and my knees are weak. And somehow—somehow—I make it to the end of the aisle without tripping.

“Who gives the bride away?”

The officiant’s voice is calm, steady—but it sends a shiver through me, grounding me in the moment. Beside me, my mother’s grip is warm and strong, her nails pressing lightly into my skin as if to remind me she’s still there. She doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t waver.

“I do.”

Her voice is clear, unwavering, filled with a quiet strength that settles something deep in my chest. She turns toward me, her amber eyes shining, filled with an emotion I don’t dare name—because if I do, I might break. Instead, I breathe through the ache, through the lump in my throat, as she leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek.

Her lips are warm, but when she pulls back, I see how her chin trembles and how she swallows hard as if she’s holding back tears. And then, with one last lingering squeeze of my fingers, she places my hand in Kingston’s.

His fingers engulf mine, warm, steady, unyielding. The moment our hands touch, a shocking jolt of heat rolls through me, something that steals my breath and tightens my chest. I look up—really look at him.

His green eyes soften just slightly, just enough to tell me that this is more than duty and an arrangement. There’s something else here—something I don’t understand yet. But I don’t pull away.

As the officiant continues, I step forward, my dress whispering against the stone, my pulse pounding in my ears. The ceremony blurs around me, voices fading into the background as I look at the men surrounding me—my husbands.

I repeat the vows, the words leaving my lips on autopilot, but I barely register them because I’m lost in their eyes.

Kingston’s gaze is steady, grounding, and filled with unspoken promises.

Voss watches me like a predator watching prey, his smirk barely contained.

Jace’s blue eyes burn with undeniable possession, calculating and focused.

Romano practically vibrates with energy, his grin boyish but his eyes knowing.

And the desire I see in them? It’s enough to make my knees weak and my heart pound against my ribs.

I’m incredibly grateful for the scent blockers I took before stepping into this venue. Because if I hadn’t? The entire room would be drowning in my perfume by now.

I’m still trapped in their eyes, still floating somewhere between reality and something far more dangerous, when the officiant’s words jolt me back to the present.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Kingston pulls me in before I can even react, his touch firm, possessive, but controlled. His lips press against mine in a soft, fleeting kiss, just enough to make me ache for more. The ghost of it lingers, leaving my lips tingling, a smile pulling at the corners of my mouth.

The moment my lips part from Kingston’s, Voss steps forward, grabs me by the waist, and pulls me flush against his body. His mouth devours mine, nothing soft, nothing restrained. His hand tangles in my hair, tilting my head to deepen the kiss, his lips demanding, bruising, staking his claim in front of the entire world.

By the time he pulls back, I’m breathless, dazed, and thoroughly wrecked. Voss’s satisfied smirk says it all as he hands me off to Jace like I’m a prize to be passed between them.

Jace’s hands grip my waist, strong, steady, but his kiss is different—slower, deliberate like he’s memorizing me. Sweet. But no less consuming. When he releases me, my body is already buzzing, my lips warm and swollen from their attention.

Then Romano takes his turn. He grins before he even kisses me, his hands cradling my face as he presses tiny kisses all over my forehead, nose, cheeks, and the corner of my lips.

I giggle, breathless, swaying slightly, and then—finally—he claims my lips with a soft, slow kiss. Not rushed. Not demanding. Just pure, teasing, addictive warmth. By the time he pulls away, I feel weightless and dizzy, like I’ve been spun in circles.

A deep chuckle rumbles next to me. “Breathe, little one,” Kingston murmurs, his voice smooth and knowing, his hand firm on the small of my back.

I gasp in a deep, much-needed breath, my chest rising and falling rapidly as the room erupts into cheers and applause. Laughter, clapping, whistling—all of it crashes over me at once, but none of it matters.