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Chapter Sixty-Four

Miles

I snorted hearing the sound of Lilianna’s moans echo through the house, “It sounds like those two are having fun.”

Christopher chuckled beside me on the couch, not looking up from the book he was reading. "Did you expect anything else? Julian's been holding back since she arrived."

"True," I agreed, turning back to my sketchpad. I'd been working on a design for the garden extension we'd discussed—a quiet space with a small fountain where Lilianna could practice her violin outdoors when the weather was nice. "He's always been the most restrained."

Nicolaus entered from the kitchen, carrying three mugs of coffee. "They've been at it for over two hours," he remarked, setting the mugs down on the coffee table. "A new record, even for Julian."

"I'm just glad she finally feels comfortable enough to explore that side of herself with all of us," I said, accepting my mug with a grateful nod.

Nicolaus looked up from his laptop where he'd been monitoring social media mentions. "The statement's been well-received. Most outlets are running with the 'modern love story' angle rather than digging deeper."

"Small mercies," I murmured, glancing toward the ceiling as another muffled sound filtered down. "How long do you think they'll be?"

Christopher's lips quirked into a knowing smile. "Given Julian's legendary stamina and the way he's been holding back? Hours. "

"I'm not complaining," Nicolaus said, his fingers tapping methodically against his laptop. "She deserves this time with each of us individually. It's part of how she's learning to trust."

I nodded, adding more detail to my garden sketch. The sound of Lilianna's pleasure was like music—honest and uninhibited in a way that made my chest tighten with pride. She'd come so far from the cautious, uncertain woman who'd first arrived.

"At least we won't have to worry about dinner for them," Nicolaus said dryly, taking a sip of his coffee. "I doubt either will have the energy to come downstairs."

"We could always bring something up to them later," I suggested, setting my sketchpad aside. "Julian will be famished once they're finished."

"And Lilianna will need hydration," Christopher added, a hint of concern in his voice despite his teasing tone. "Julian's not exactly gentle when he finally lets go."

Nicolaus closed his laptop with a soft click. "The social media situation seems stable for now. Her mother hasn't made any further public statements since this morning."

"How long do you think before she escalates?" I murmured, leaning back against the couch cushions.

Christopher's expression darkened slightly. "Not long. Women like that don't accept defeat easily."

"She's already trying other angles," Nicolaus confirmed, his voice taking on that analytical edge it always did when he was processing complex information.

"I've intercepted three different attempts to contact Lilianna through distant connections—former classmates, acquaintances from her old life.

She's trying to find someone who might still have influence over her. "

I felt my jaw tighten at this news. "She just won't give up, will she?"

"People who view others as possessions rarely do," Christopher said, his voice uncharacteristically hard. He set his book aside, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "They don't understand the concept of letting go because they never saw the person as autonomous in the first place."

A load sound from upstairs caught our attention— the sounds of a loud yell of ‘Alpha!’ I choked on my coffee, coughing as Christopher patted my back with a laugh.

I glanced up at the ceiling, “Do you think she would call us that too?” The question hung in the air between us, each of us processing the implications. The title carried weight—acknowledgment, submission, acceptance of our roles in her life.

"I hope so," Christopher said quietly, his voice carrying a vulnerability I rarely heard from him. "When she's ready."

Nicolaus's expression softened, a rare crack in his usually composed demeanor. "It would mean she truly sees us as her pack. Not just the men who happened to take her in, but her Alphas."

I nodded, understanding the distinction. We'd been careful not to push that dynamic, letting her come to it naturally. But hearing Julian's name mixed with that title from her lips... it stirred something primal in all of us.

"She's been testing boundaries more lately," I observed, thinking of the way she'd been more assertive in her needs, more comfortable expressing what she wanted. "Growing into herself."

"It's beautiful to watch," Christopher agreed, his eyes warm with pride.

Nicolaus smiled faintly. "And now she's upstairs screaming 'Alpha' without hesitation."

"Growth," I said simply, returning to my garden sketch. "She's blooming right before our eyes."

The sounds from upstairs had quieted, and I found myself wondering if they'd finally exhausted themselves. A comfortable silence settled over us, each lost in our own thoughts about the woman who had so completely transformed our lives.

"Do you remember what it was like before her?" I asked suddenly, looking between my packmates. "How quiet the house was?"

Christopher smiled, his expression softening with memory. "Too quiet. Too orderly."

"Too empty," Nicolaus corrected, setting his coffee mug down. "I didn't realize how much we were missing until she filled those spaces."

I nodded, thinking of all the small ways Lilianna had changed in our life.

The sound of her laughter echoing through the halls, her violin practice filling the music room with tentative melodies that grew stronger each day.

The way she'd started leaving little traces of herself everywhere—a book on the coffee table, her shoes by the door, her favorite mug in the sink.

"I can't imagine going back to the way things were," I admitted, shading in the fountain details on my sketch. "She's woven herself into every part of our lives."

"Good thing we don't have to," Christopher said with certainty. "She's ours now. Completely."

“Well…almost.” I said, thinking of how it would be to mark her and have her fully ours, our scents mingling…a permanent mark so those around know she was taken.

Nicolaus's eyes darkened at my words. "Soon," he said, his voice dipping into that low register that revealed how tightly he held his control. "When she's ready."

"When she asks for it," Christopher clarified, always the most patient among us. "It has to be her choice."

I nodded, knowing they were right. Mating marks were permanent and though I knew I was ready for it, if it was her…

I didn’t know if she was ready for that step.

She may say she loves us, but being in love and making a permanent tie was different.

The weight of that truth settled over us.

Love and forever were two different commitments, and we couldn't mistake one for the other—no matter how desperately we wanted to claim her completely.

"She's still healing," I said quietly, my pencil stilling against the paper. "From everything her mother put her through, from years of being told she wasn't enough."

"Healing takes time," Nicolaus agreed, though I could see the tension in his shoulders. He wanted her marked just as badly as the rest of us. "We can't rush her into something that permanent when she's still learning to trust herself."

Christopher leaned back, running a hand through his hair. "Sometimes I wonder if she knows how much we want it. How much we want her to be ours in every way."

"She knows," I said with certainty. "She's not naive. She can sense how we hold back, how we're careful not to push." I tapped my pencil against the paper, thinking of the way Lilianna sometimes watched us with those thoughtful eyes of hers, like she was piecing together a puzzle.

"She's more perceptive than we give her credit for," Nicolaus agreed, his gaze distant. "Sometimes I catch her looking at our necks, where our marks would go."

Christopher's lips curved into a soft smile. "I've noticed that too. She doesn't realize she's doing it."

"Julian's probably telling her all about it right now," I chuckled, imagining my packmate's enthusiasm. "He's never been good at hiding his desires."

"That's why they work so well together," Christopher observed. "Julian wears his heart openly, and Lilianna needs that transparency."

"She responds to that honesty," I agreed, adding more shadows to my sketch.

Christopher glanced at the clock. "Speaking of Julian, I should prepare something for them. They'll need sustenance eventually. We can make that pasta dish she likes—the one with the lemon cream sauce."

I smiled, remembering how Lilianna's eyes had lit up the first time we'd made it for her. "And garlic bread. She always wants extra."

"And a salad she'll barely touch," Nicolaus added with a fond shake of his head.

The domesticity of the moment struck me—four men coordinating to care for the woman they loved, discussing her preferences and habits with intimate knowledge. I smiled as I glanced back at the sketch.

Lilianna really did change our lives…and I can’t wait to see how else things change with her around.