Page 127 of Knotting the Firefighters

"Well, no," I admit, suddenly feeling defensive about my limited wardrobe options. "My previous pack didn't exactly take me shopping or provide a clothing allowance. I had to develop my own style with limited resources, which meant thrifting vintage pieces that were affordable and distinctive."

And made me feel beautiful.

Made me feel like a person rather than an accessory.

Gave me identity beyond designation and profession.

The silence that follows carries weight I don't fully understand—all four of them sharing loaded looks that communicate something without words, pack dynamics at work excluding me from conversation happening in glances and minute expressions.

Bear breaks the quiet first, a suggestion emerging casually but clearly already decided.

"What if we adjust our plans slightly? Head to the town closest to Sweetwater Falls instead of staying local? They'll have better shopping options, more variety, probably less crowded than the weekend rush at our limited stores."

Shopping.

They want to take me shopping.

Why does that feel significant?

The others murmur agreement—Aidric noting that the adjacent town probably has less gossip about local firefighters, Silas adding that most items on their supply list could be obtained there with better selection, Calder simply nodding acceptance of the modified plan.

"Most importantly," Aidric grumbles with what might be reluctant consideration, "they probably don't know us, which means less small-town gossip and speculation about why we're suddenly traveling as a pack."

Right.

This will be our first public appearance as a pack.

Our debut as a unified unit rather than a collection of individuals who happen to know each other.

The realization settles with unexpected weight—this is a statement, declaration, announcement to whatever audience witnesses us that we're together, bonded, functioning as a cohesive group.

No pressure.

Just a casual first date with four Alphas who are definitely going to attract attention.

Bear claps his hands together with enthusiasm that seems disproportionate to the situation.

"Well then, this is officially our first group date! Group hug to commemorate the occasion!"

The collective groan from Aidric, Silas, and Calder is immediate and unified—three different expressions of "absolutely not" delivered simultaneously.

They head toward the door with varying degrees of haste, clearly determined to avoid Bear's attempt at forced pack bonding through physical affection.

I can't help the giggle that escapes—genuine amusement at their coordinated retreat, at Bear's theatrical disappointment, at the absolute absurdity of four grown Alphas fleeing from hug like it's a deadly threat.

They're ridiculous.

Endearingly ridiculous.

My ridiculous pack, apparently.

Bear turns toward me with exaggerated sadness, arms spread in invitation.

"At least someone appreciates proper pack bonding," he declares with wounded dignity that's completely performative.

I cross the distance, stepping into his embrace without hesitation. His arms close around me immediately—careful of my healing burns, mindful of his strength, but secure enough to make me feel protected rather than restricted.

Safe.