Page 119 of Pack Plus One

Leah blinks rapidly, her hands uncrossing to hover uncertainly at her sides. “I don’t...”

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” Liam assures her, still holding out the flowers. “Just know that when we were talking last night, it wasn’t about wanting you to be different.It was about us figuring out how to be what you need without suffocating you.”

The plastic crinkles as Jude opens the bakery box, revealing perfect golden muffins with dots of blueberries. “We may have bribed the café to make a fresh batch,” he admits. “And by ‘bribed,’ I mean I promised the baker a lifetime supply of our limited-edition bourbon barrel stout, which Mason is going to kill me for when he does the inventory, but totally worth it for the look on your face right now.”

I glance at Leah, and he’s right—her expression has softened, the tight line of her mouth relaxing into something that’s not quite a smile but no longer resembles the wounded grimace she wore when we arrived.

“You guys are ridiculous,” she says, but there’s a waver in her voice that betrays her.

Zoe whistles from her position by the door. “Damn. And here I thought grand gestures were dead.” She takes another sip from her mug, eyeing us with newfound interest. “If you don’t take them back, Leah, I will. That alpha kneeling thing ishot.”

Leah flushes, color blooming across her cheeks and down her neck. She doesn’t deny it, though, which sends a surge of possessive satisfaction through my chest. I’ll kneel for her every day of my life if it puts that look on her face.

“We misunderstood each other,” Mason says, still holding out the cup like an offering. “You heard us talking about accepting who you are and thought we were disappointed. But Leah, we were saying the exact opposite—that we need to respect your independence, not try to make you fit some traditional omega mold.”

“When I said ‘pity,’ I was saying you’d hate being pitied like a charity case or something,” Jude adds. “Not that you are one. Big difference.”

“And when I said a normal omega would be nesting,” Liam explains, “I was pointing out how our expectations needed to change, not you.”

Leah looks at each of us in turn, something vulnerable and raw in her expression. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” she says quietly. “That you’ll all have to change who you are, how your pack works, just to accommodate me. That you’ll end up resenting me for it.”

“Is that why you ran?” Mason asks gently.

She nods, arms tightening around herself. “I’ve seen it happen before. Someone bends over backward trying to make a relationship work, and eventually, they get tired of bending.”

“Leah,” I say, her name almost a growl in my throat. “We’re not bending. We’re growing.”

Her eyes snap to mine, surprise and skepticism warring in her expression.

“He’s right,” Liam says. “What kind of pack would we be if we couldn’t adapt? If we couldn’t expand to include someone who challenges us in all the best ways?”

“Boring as hell, that’s what,” Jude interjects. “Personally, I think we were getting pretty stale before you showed up. Now Mason’s actually smiling more than he frowns, Liam’s researching omega-friendly brewery policies like they’re going to be on some final exam, and Caleb’s actually using his words instead of just growling at everything.”

“Improvement all around,” Mason adds dryly.

“The point is,” I say, standing slowly, my knees protesting the hardwood imprint they’ve acquired, “we’re not changing who we are. We’re becoming better versions of ourselves because of you.”

Leah’s eyes track the movement, her pupils dilating slightly as I rise to my full height. “You can’t know that,” she argues, but there’s less conviction in her voice now. “You can’t promise youwon’t wake up one day and wish I was more like a traditional omega.”

“We can promise exactly that,” Liam says firmly. “Because none of us wants a traditional omega. We want you.”

“With all your stubbornness,” Jude adds, lopsided grin in place.

“Your independence,” Mason continues.

“Your strength,” I finish.

“Come home,” I say simply, pouring every ounce of sincerity into the words.

They hang between us, thick with unspoken promise. I see the calculation in her eyes, the weighing of risk against reward, the battle between self-preservation and desire.

“If you’re worried about losing your independence,” Mason adds quietly, “don’t be. We know who you are, Leah. We don’t want to change that.”

“We just want to be part of it,” Liam finishes.

For a long moment, no one speaks. I can hear Zoe’s soft breathing from the doorway, the faint rustle of Liam’s flowers, the rhythmic tap of Jude’s foot against the floor.

Then—