Page 206 of His Drama Queen

"Please never say 'swell' in bed," Corvus said. "I'm begging you."

"Noted." I stretched, feeling loose and wrung out and strangely centered. "For future reference."

"Future reference," Dorian repeated, pulling me against his chest. "I like that."

We lay there for a while, existing together. No pressure. No performance.

Eventually, reality intruded. Oakley's phone alarm went off. Seven hours until curtain.

"Shower," Corvus declared. "Then food. Then we're getting you ready for your showcase."

"Our girl's going to be extraordinary tonight," Oakley said, pressing a kiss to my temple. "The scouts won't know what hit them."

"I'm terrified," I admitted.

"Good." Dorian tilted my face up to his. "Use it. Channel it. Make it part of your performance."

"What if I freeze?"

"You won't." His thumb traced my lower lip. "You're the girl who walked in on three Alphas and asked to join. You're the girl who claimed us in front of everyone. You're the girl who chooses herself every single day." His ice-blue eyes held mine. "You're going to walk onto that stage tonight and remind everyone exactly who you are."

"And who am I?"

All three answered in unison: "Extraordinary."

Theshowerwaslargeenough for all of us, which felt excessive but also perfect. Corvus washed my hair with careful hands while Dorian soaped my back and Oakley held me, grounding me with solid warmth.

This was pack. Not the terrifying loss of control I'd feared. Not biology overriding choice. Four people taking care of each other, building something together, choosing intimacy and trust.

"You're thinking loud again," Corvus observed, working conditioner through my hair.

"Realizing something."

"What?"

"That I'm not my mother." I turned to look at each of them. "She ran because she thought the bond would erase her. But it doesn't have to. We're building something different."

"We are," Dorian agreed. "Every day. One choice at a time."

After the shower, they helped me get ready. Oakley braided my hair in an intricate updo he'd learned from YouTube tutorials. Corvus made breakfast while I did my makeup—stage-appropriate but not too heavy yet. And Dorian watched, offering quiet commentary and stealing kisses between tasks.

"You're going to be late if you keep that up," I said as he kissed me for the third time in ten minutes.

"Worth it."

By the time we piled into Dorian's car, I felt centered. Grounded. Ready.

The intimacy this morning hadn't distracted me from the showcase—it had prepared me for it. Reminded me that I hadpeople in my corner. That I'd built something real and chosen and mine.

At the theater, they walked me to the stage door.

"We'll be in the fifth row," Dorian said. "Center. Where you can feel us if you need to."

"I love you," I said impulsively. To all of them. "All of you. Thank you for this morning."

"We love you too," Oakley said. "Now go show those scouts what you're made of."

"Make them remember," Corvus added.