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Too late. The wrap was in my mouth, Imo beaming like she’d just won gold in the Maternal Olympics. The brothers’ eyes gleamed with something between amusement and jealousy, probably because feeding me was usually their job. Though they typically used less forceful methods. Usually.

“Delicious, no?” Imo was already constructing another architectural masterpiece of lettuce and meat. “Now another?—”

“Try this first,” Maria swooped in with what looked like the world’s most perfect pizza bite.

Luke, the traitor, was recording everything for social media posterity. “This is better than premium streaming,” he whispered, angling for a better shot of Imo’s increasingly elaborate lettuce wraps.

“I hope you choke on your content,” I muttered between force-fed bites.

“Both excellent cooks,” Jorge offered diplomatically from his pizza station, probably trying to prevent an international culinary incident. “Though perhaps we should let Kai feed himself?”

The twin looks of maternal outrage could have curdled milk.

“Need meat on bones!”

“More substance for winter!”

“Look how thin!”

“Growing boy!”

My wolves had been relegated to hovering around the table with their wineglasses, displaced from their usual positions by the dueling maternal forces. They seemed more amused than put out by the situation, the traitors. Marcus caught my eye and raised his glass in a silent toast to my predicament, while Derek and Caleb didn’t even try to hide their grins.

“Having fun?” I asked Marcus dryly as Imo prepared what looked like an architectural masterpiece of lettuce and beef.

“Immensely,” he murmured. “Though I admit, I’m a bit jealous. Usually feeding you is our job.”

“I heard that!” Imo brandished her tongs like a weapon. “You three, big strong alphas but look at him! Too skinny!”

“We’ve been working on it,” Derek defended, though his lips twitched suspiciously.

“Work harder!” Imo declared.

The dogs, proving that evolution had given them superior survival instincts, had positioned themselves strategically around the table. Scout, Shadow, and Storm’s heads moved between Jorge’s pizza station and Imo’s Korean BBQ setup like they were watching the world’s most delicious tennis match.

“No feeding dogs from table!” Imo scolded as Scout deployed his secret weapon—the puppy eyes that could probably end wars. Then, when she thought no one was looking, she dropped a piece of bulgogi that Scout caught with ninja-like precision.

“I saw that,” Maria said primly, then proceeded to “accidentally” drop a piece of perfectly cooked hanwoo beef that Storm gracefully intercepted.

The outdoor dining area was chaos incarnate—a perfect blend of Korean BBQ and Jorge’s artisanal pizzas, with three tactical wolves executing complex food-catching maneuvers underneath. Jorge had taken his place at the table, eagerly learning how to properly wrap a ssam from Imo while Anna tried not to laugh at his intense concentration.

“No, no,” Imo corrected, reaching over to adjust his lettuce-to-meat ratio. “Like this. Must be perfect balance!”

“Got it,” Jorge nodded seriously. “It’s like building the perfect pizza—each component has to work together.”

“The boy needs more meat,” Maria declared, her Spanish accent thickening with concern as she eyed my plate. “Not eating enough,mi amor.”

“That’s what I say!” Imo agreed enthusiastically. “Need feeding!”

Luke, still documenting everything from his prime position across the table, paused between bites of his perfectly constructed ssam. “The roads around here are crazy,” he commented. “And Blackwood Heights is weird. Like walking into a freezer full of old money and judgment.”

I felt more than saw the subtle shift in atmosphere. The brothers exchanged one of their telepathic looks while Jorge’s hand stilled over the pizza he was cutting. Even Maria’s perpetual motion of filling wineglasses paused for a fraction of a second.

Marcus’ voice was carefully neutral. “Be careful in that area. You and your mother both.”

That made me look up sharply. The brothers were never this obvious with their warnings.

“Oh?” Luke raised an eyebrow, but Imo was already nodding.