Page 32

Chapter thirty-two

SOFIE

It doesn’t feel as harsh this time when Violet leaves. No crushing weight in my chest, no sharp-edged panic twisting in my gut, no restless energy clawing at my ribs, making it impossible to stay still. The last time she left, I tore through the house searching for her, frantic and desperate, like something inside me would shatter if I didn’t find her fast enough. But now? I feel settled, although I did text her twice in the last thirty minutes just to make sure she was okay.

The room is quiet except for the distant hum of conversation from the other side of the house, too far away to matter, too soft to pull me from the warmth of where I stand. My gaze shifts to the couch, where the twins have taken up more space than should be physically possible, their massive thighs sprawled out, their arms draped lazily over the back.

Lance twirls a toothpick between his fingers, his brow rising in jest as he catches me trying to figure out where to be. Hawk looks half-asleep, his body relaxed in that way only he can pull off, one hand resting on his knee, the other rolling a single grape between his fingers. Something inside me tugs, but hesitation keeps me frozen for a moment, hovering in the middle of the room, unsure where to sit.

The frustration creeps in, curling at the edges of my mind. A small huff slips from my lips, an exasperated breath that doesn’t quite belong to me, before I give up and do what feels right. Crawling into Hawk’s lap, draping my legs across Lance’s.

Hawk lets out a deep, pleased grunt, his arms immediately curling around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest like this is exactly where I belong. Lance just chuckles, adjusting beneath me so my legs rest perfectly over his lap, his palm brushing along my calf in slow, lazy circles, his touch warm and grounding.

Yeah. This is better.

Something cool presses against my lips, Lance holding a slice of pear between his fingers, waiting. The teasing glint in his eye tells me this is just as much about feeding me as it is about watching me take it from him. I take a slow bite, humming softly at the burst of sweetness on my tongue, the warmth of their hands making it impossible to focus on anything else.

Hawk shifts beneath me, pressing his nose to the side of my neck, his breath warm as he murmurs, “You’re purring, sweetheart.”

I hadn’t even noticed. I’ve only done it once with Violet before. Lance feeds me another bite, voice dipping into something teasing. “You’ve got it so rough, huh?”

Across the room, Puma watches, stretched out in one of the lounge chairs like the protector of the pack. There’s something so steady about him, something that makes my Omega instincts settle even though I know he’ll never be my Alpha. And the strangest part? That doesn’t bother me.

Most Omegas—every Omega I’ve ever known—would hate that. They’d feel territorial, possessive, like something was being withheld from them, like they weren’t being fully claimed. They’d want all eyes, all focus, all devotion.

But I don’t. Maybe it’s because Violet is happy. And if she’s happy, then I am too.

The thought lingers for only a moment before I push it aside, choosing instead to steal another slice of fruit from Lance’s fingers, sighing contentedly as I melt further between them, their warmth sinking into my skin, their hands keeping me exactly where I want to be.

Puma finally cuts the silence, his deep voice rolling through the space. “So, what do you want to do now that your heat is over?”

My stomach twists, breath catching in my throat, mind jumping straight to the worst fucking assumption possible. Everything inside me goes tight, a sharp spike of panic slamming into my ribs before I can stop it.

Go.

The word echoes through my head. The same fear I’ve carried for so long, the one that’s always lived under my skin, waiting for the moment I overstay my welcome, waiting for the moment someone tells me it’s time to leave. It’s why it was always just Violet and me against the world.

Puma notices immediately, his body shifting forward, forearms resting against his knees. “You and Violet are not going anywhere.”

The certainty in his voice cuts through my panic before it can fully take hold, the weight of his words settling something in my chest. Right, of course. He isn’t asking if I plan to leave. He’s just asking what I want. Exhaling, I sink back against Hawk’s chest, the tension bleeding out of my body as quickly as it hit. “Oh,” I murmur, stomach unclenching, breath evening out.

Lance nudges me, the press of his fingers against my thigh meant to pull me back, to keep me in the moment. A shrug is easier than answering. But Lance doesn’t let up, head tilting slightly, eyes dragging over my face like he’s trying to see through me.

The weight of their attention is different now. Before, it was teasing, warmth, safety, something I could sink into without thinking. Now, it’s something else. It’s not just hands and laughter, not just casual affection or easy comfort. Now they want to know me. And that’s harder.

I pick at the hem of Hawk’s shirt, a small, mindless movement, something to keep my hands busy while I figure out how to answer. “Art was Violet’s thing,” I admit, voice quieter than I mean for it to be. “Not mine. I don’t know what I want.” The words come out flat, frustration curling at the edges. “I had so many dreams and plans and ideas, but we were stuck going to our parents’ church for a while. Don’t ask.” A sharp exhale, nose wrinkling before I can stop myself. “I never really figured out exactly what I wanted to do, but then my entire life derailed when I presented. The world doesn’t make sense anymore.”

None of them interrupt which makes it easier to keep talking.

“The only person who ever stood in my corner was Violet. And our best friend, Camila.” The name hits harder than I expect. A second passes, then another, before realization slams into me all at once. “Fuck, I’ve been a bad friend.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them, my shoulders slumping, a pout tugging at my lips.

It’s been months since I talked to her, since before my body stopped feeling like my own, before everything changed. I know she understands. That doesn’t change the fact that I haven’t reached out. Fingers trail up my spine, grounding me before I spiral. Hawk’s touch is careful, quiet reassurance in the way only he can give.

So, I continue. “I hid away from the world. I was ashamed of what I became because nothing made sense. I’m only just accepting who I am now. Figuring out how all of this fits together.” A vague wave of my hand follows, the motion encompassing everything. My body. My place here. The way the pack wraps around me like I’ve always belonged. The world itself, how it still doesn’t make any fucking sense, no matter how much I try to adjust.

Something shifts in Puma’s expression, just the smallest flicker of softness around his eyes, the kind that most people wouldn’t notice if they weren’t paying attention. “You don’t have to figure it out right away. There’s a lot of options for you and I want you to think about them. No pressure.”

No pressure. The words don’t sound real. Because my whole life has been under pressure. Expectations wrapped so tightly around my throat I forgot how to breathe. Rules I never made but had to follow anyway, paths I never chose but had to walk, because the alternative was worse.

My gaze finds Puma’s, searching, waiting for some kind of sign that this is temporary, that there’s still some kind of expiration date attached to this, to me. The weight of uncertainty sits thick in my chest, so I do the only thing that makes sense. I ask the question that’s been clawing at the edges of my mind since my heat ended. “Why does it feel like this went from a trial to a permanent thing?”

Hawk hums against my temple. “If you think any of us are letting you two go,” the grip on my waist tightens, his fingers pressing into my skin like he’s making sure I feel it, “you’re mistaken.”

Twisting in Hawk’s lap, I shift to face them all, studying the way they lounge so effortlessly, as if they’ve always belonged here, as if they were built for this moment, for the slow claiming of something neither of us ever thought we’d have. “Violet is stubborn.”

Lance chuckles under his breath, shaking his head like he already knew that, like it isn’t even worth saying aloud. Of course, she’s stubborn. It’s in her bones, in the way she carries herself, in the way she has spent years holding the world together with nothing but sheer fucking will.

“She’ll push,” I add. “She doesn’t always let people take care of her because she’s had to do it herself for so long. And even now, even with all of you…” A slow sigh escapes, heavy with something I don’t quite know how to name. “She might not break down so easily. You have to show her that she doesn’t always have to be in control.”

It feels like everything halts and then I catch Puma’s grin, a slow, dangerous thing. “Sweetheart,” his voice is low, a promise and a threat wrapped up in one. “I love a challenge.”

That’s what Violet is to him—a puzzle worth solving, a wall worth breaking down piece by piece. And he’s already worked his way under her skin, just enough to make her hesitate, just enough to make her falter in all the ways she never allows herself to. She’s cracking. And I love watching it.

“Rest,” he says simply, changing the direction of the conversation. “You’ll still be sore for a little while.” His gaze flicks toward Hawk, then to Lance, something sharp glinting behind his eyes, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips. “But I’m sure the twins would love to pamper you.”

Heat flares in my face, creeping up my neck, searing against my skin. “Wait—”

Too late.

Hawk moves faster than I expect, grabbing me like a goddamn caveman again, lifting me effortlessly before slinging me over his shoulder. A startled squeal rips from my throat, my legs kicking uselessly as I’m thrown into the air like I weigh nothing at all.

“Hawk!” My hands press against his back, fists curling in his shirt, but the laughter bubbling up from my chest betrays me. “Put me down, you menace!”

Lance is already cracking up, leaning back in his seat, watching the scene unfold like it’s the best entertainment he’s had all week.

“Lance! Save me!”

His grin unapologetic. “Oh, sweetheart, I wouldn’t dream of it.”