Page 9

Seraphina

I open my mouth to answer Lyle, when the mudroom door creaks open. Ambrose steps inside, and I let out a giggle, unable to hold it back. My tatted firefighter looks ridiculous, arms overflowing with pillows. His hazel eyes are wide, a little lost, as he juggles the pile, trying not to drop them. My nose wrinkles as he sets them down in the entryway, pulling a can of descenter from his pocket and spraying each one with careful, precise bursts.

He then tosses them into the living room, one by one, each one landing in a fluffy heap on the floor. Only when he steps into the living room, a boyish smile playing on his lips do I relax a little. “Got your pillows, sweet girl,” he says, gesturing at the pile. “Hope I didn’t fuck up the colors.”

“They’re perfect,” I muse, now trying to ignore Lyle’s offer. But I’m all out of luck, my body betraying me, a fresh wave of slick soaking my panties. A small whine escapes me, frustration and embarrassment twisting together as I move toward the bathroom again. My eyes dart between the three of them, waiting for the pounce, the loss of control I’ve always feared.

But they don’t move. They’re just watching, waiting, and it hits me like a tidal wave: maybe everything I’ve believed is wrong.

I pause by the bathroom door, my hand on the frame, my mind spiraling through the chaos. I never told Felix everything about that night. He asked a few times but I couldn’t relive it. The darkness, the hands, the snarls. Screaming for my life, not knowing if I’d get away. What I never told him, what I’ve never told anyone, is that it wasn’t just one Alpha. I don’t know how many there were but it was more than one scent, choking me as they tore at me. That’s what terrified me most. Every time I stepped outside, every strange scent on the wind, I couldn’t be sure if it was one of them, waiting to hurt me again. I couldn’t trust that there was still good out there, so I buried myself in this apartment.

But these three men standing in my living room, have never been anything but good. Sweet, caring, everything I’ve ever needed. My heat’s coming, maybe weeks away, and their scents are pulling it closer, making my body ache for them. But can I be selfish enough to spend my heat with them, to let them in, knowing I might push them away after? My instincts would riot if they left, tearing me apart worse than any heat spike.

My hand tightens on the doorframe, another gush of slick making me bite back a whine. “Can I think about it? The heat?” I ask, my voice barely audible, eyes flickering between them.

They all murmur their versions of agreement, but I can see the disappointment in their eyes. It’s not fully directed at me, more the situation but something inside of me wants them to know the truth.

“I want to. That’s… I’ve always wanted to, but that’s selfish. I can’t have you forever, and I just…”

Callum frowns, taking a few more steps forward to sit on the couch. “Why can’t you have us forever?”

I let out a quiet sob, wrapping my arms around myself. “Because I’m defective. We’ve been over this. I can’t leave this house. You guys can’t survive in here. What kind of future does that leave us? And kids? I would never be able to watch them do all the fun things. I know you do so much for me. I’m not blind. But I also know it’s gonna be so much harder if I think about things I can’t have.”

I’m not sure where the idea about kids came in but now that’s out there.

Ambrose raises a hand, his tattoos peeking from his sleeve. “Can we just stop for a second?” he pushes out, a growl at the edge of his words. “Hey, angel, fuck, can I hold you, please? You’re killing me.”

I look up at him, the earnest look in his eyes as he moves to stand at the back of the couch, gutting me. I step toward him, Ambrose tugging me against his chest, his rum spice scent wrapping around me. His purr starts up immediately, rumbling through me as I melt into him and for a moment, the uncertainty in my head quiets down, drowned out by his warmth.

“I’m gonna say something,” Ambrose murmurs, his lips brushing my hair, “and I want you to think about it, okay? I want you to think about the fact that we’re not coming here just because your brother asked us to. Maybe that’s how it started, but we all look forward to Friday nights. Hell, Lyle sleeps here more than he does at home sometimes. Your smile, your laugh, fuck, it’s everything. I’ve wanted so much more for such a goddamn long time, angel.”

I pull back a little, Ambrose capturing my lips in a soft, desperate kiss. It’s too brief and not enough, Ambrose releasing me as he steps back and mumbles, “Sorry,” his cheeks flushed.

It scares me that I want this, that the fear of losing them has been overshadowed by the desire of having them. Just last week, I didn’t need them like this or maybe I did and I was ignoring it. “I’ll think about it. I will. I just… Callum?”

He’s beside me in an instant, turning me to face him as he sits on the back of the couch, only holding my hand. I focus on his calloused fingers, warm and rough against mine, fantasies flitting through my head that I have to stuff down. “I didn’t want to spring all this on you. It’s a lot and I can see you’re freaking out a bit, but I’d hate it if I missed the chance to tell you I’m not going anywhere unless you want me to. That we’re not going anywhere. Do you want us to stay?”

A small watery smile escapes me as I nod. “Yes, please.”

Callum lets out a quiet chuckle, his thumb brushing my knuckles. “Now, I know Lyle’s got some asinine movie for us to watch. How about that and some popcorn, hmm?”

“Is there ice cream?” The ability these men have to draw me out of a panic is on another level. I’m still scared, a little shaky, but the idea of curling up with them on the couch has me settling.

Ambrose perks up, pointing to one of the bags I didn’t see before. “Fuck yeah, there is,” he grins. “I got strawberry and caramel.”

“One scoop of each, please,” I manage, forcing myself to stay present in the moment. We can discuss the dynamics of my heat tomorrow after my appointment with my doctor. The fantasy of spending it with these men is almost too good to be true but I’m not sure it’ll happen this time. Maybe next time? I’m not sure.

Callum guides me over to the couch, sitting me in the middle as Lyle plops onto my other side. I can see his nostrils flared, the muscles in his jaw tensing but he’s not acting on his need. And maybe that’s all I needed to see—that these men had control in a way those Alphas didn’t all those years ago. Ambrose plops down on my other side as Lyle starts flipping through channels, a bowl with two scoops of ice cream placed in my hands.

“One of each, as ordered, angel.” He presses a kiss to the side of my head before throwing an arm along the back of the couch behind me. I curl up between them, desperately wanting to lean over but telling myself I can’t. It’s almost as if Ambrose can sense it. “You don’t have to be anything but you, angel. We’re here for all of it. However, that looks. Even the messy parts.”

I don’t know what to say, so I just shove a spoonful of ice cream into my mouth.