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“He says he got you to take a couple of bites before you pushed his hand away,” he says, amused.

Taking my laptop, he holds out his hand to help me stand. My legs complain from sitting for so long, but I feel content. I didn’t realize that I needed to get some of that out. I don’t knowhow much I’ll use for the blog post and what I’ll cut, but it was really therapeutic.

“Good day?” he asks as we walk inside.

“Yes,” I admit, grinning tiredly. “The time just slipped away from me, but it’s been a really good day.”

Sitting with my alphas, unwinding together as we talk about our days is even better though. I get to spend my life with them.

I still can’t completely get my mind around it.

Four months later

Curled up in my nest, I glare at my current homework. I was accepted into South University, and of course I’m overloaded with courses. I still hate math, and it’s a prerequisite to graduate. I may need to get Ethan to help me.

Not that he hasn’t already offered, I’m just stubborn as hell.

Tossing the textbook aside, I groan.

“Math?” Ethan asks from the doorway of my nest. They all insist on asking before coming in, unless there’s some kind of emergency or I fall asleep and they want to bring me back to our room. At my nod, he raises his brow. “Let me come in, Little Queen, and I’ll banish your problems.”

Giggling, I accept his kind offer, and he strides inside.

“Let’s blow through this,” he says. “Riley promised to make molten chocolate cake before he leaves for his rotation.”

“God, you had me at chocolate,” I moan, sitting up.

“He knows the secret to your heart,” he teases.

I didn’t think my blog would go anywhere, but the Dean of the Communications reached out and asked for a meeting. He told me that I could continue to write while learning about how best to move in the world since it’s a competitive field.

Dean Holsten pretty much refused to take no for an answer,and I’m really enjoying my classes. With this course load, I’ll be able to finish school in three years and I can take less math classes.

I’m good with having my arm slightly twisted to confirm my major in the communications department.

“Why do you explain this so much better than my teachers?” I ask, working out the last problems. Somehow, he makes it all make sense to my brain.

“A lot of university professors overcomplicate things,” Ethan murmurs, watching as I work my way through the math problem. “It doesn’t need to feel like mental gymnastics. See, you got this.”

“With a lot of help,” I remind him. “Done. Is it chocolate time yet?”

Riley yells from the first floor, and I burst out laughing.

“You can use the bond,”I tell him.

“It’s more fun to yell. Get your cute ass downstairs.”

Smirking, I scramble up and Ethan and I walk downstairs.

“Dad said he wanted to show you something,” he says.

“I remember he said something about an appointment,” I say. “He was really cagey about it though and wouldn’t tell me what it was.”

“My father is insane,” Ethan grunts. “You’ll see, I hear his voice.”

“What the fuck, Cooper?” Riley asks as we approach the kitchen.

“Should I be worried?” I ask, raising my brow.