Page 11

"I'm sorry," Miles said immediately, noticing my reaction. "That was callous of me."

I shook my head, staring out the window at the city taking shape around us. "No point in pretending otherwise, when it’s the truth.”

Miles was quiet for a moment, then shifted slightly in his seat to face me better. "For what it's worth, Julian insisted on the financial arrangement. Your parents wanted ongoing benefits—business partnerships, social connections. He refused, made it a clean break."

"A clean break," I echoed, testing the words. Something about them felt right, like a bone being properly set after being broken.

"One-time transaction," Miles continued. "No lingering obligations. No reason for them to maintain contact unless you want it."

The realization washed over me like cool water. My parents had no leverage left. They'd already gotten what they wanted from the Vale pack—money, prestige, the connection they'd sought—and once I stepped through the Vale pack's door, their part in the transaction would be complete.

"You're saying they have no claim on me any longer," I said, the words feeling strange and weightless.

Miles nodded, his expression serious. "None whatsoever. And Julian made sure they understood that. Whatever relationship you maintain with them moving forward is entirely your choice."

My choice. The phrase kept appearing, a refrain I was still learning to believe.

"What if I don't want any relationship?" I asked, the question slipping out before I could censor it.

Miles's smile was gentle but fierce. "Then you don't have one. Simple as that."

“They made it like they wanted updates…that if things weren’t going well…” I tried to formulate words but they were coming out a jumbled mess instead.

"Hey," Miles said softly, reaching over to touch my hand briefly. "Breathe. Whatever they told you, whatever threats they made—they're empty now. They have no power over you anymore."

I drew in a shaky breath, trying to process what he was telling me. "They said if the courtship didn't work out, if I disappointed you somehow, that I'd be returned to them in disgrace. That no other pack would want me after that."

Miles's expression darkened. "They said what?"

The anger in his voice made me shrink back instinctively, he immediately softened his tone at my movement. "I'm sorry. I'm not angry at you. I'm furious at them for putting that fear in your head."

"Is it true?" I whispered.

"Absolutely not." His voice was firm, certain.

"Even if things don't work out between us—which won't happen, but hypothetically—you would never be 'returned' anywhere.

You're not a defective product." His fingers tightened briefly on the steering wheel.

"If you decided this wasn't what you wanted, we'd help you establish your own life.

Complete independence, if that's what you chose. "

The concept was so foreign I could barely process it. "You would do that? Even if I rejected your pack?"

"Of course." Miles glanced at me with those earnest green eyes. "Lilianna, we're not trying to trap you. We're offering you choices you've never had before."

I sat back in the leather seat, overwhelmed by the implications. No matter what happened, I would never have to return to that house, to those rules, to being treated like an object to be bartered. The relief was so intense it made me dizzy.

“You know most people looking for packs don’t go through the old traditional ways like this. Most are looking for someone they enjoy and feel a connection to before courting or bonding happens.” Miles spoke up, making my eyes snap back to him at his words.

"Really?" I asked, surprised by this revelation. "I thought traditional arrangements were the norm."

Miles chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "Maybe fifty years ago. These days, most packs form organically. People meet, connect, decide they're better together than apart." He glanced at me. "Your parents kept you very isolated from modern pack dynamics, didn't they?"

I nodded, trying to absorb this new information. "They always said proper Omegas were placed with appropriate packs through family arrangements. That anything else was... undignified."

"Undignified," Miles repeated, shaking his head. "No, just inconvenient for families trying to use their Omega children as bargaining chips."

The SUV turned onto a tree-lined avenue, the urban landscape giving way to elegant brownstones and manicured parks.

"We're almost there," Miles said, pointing ahead to where the street curved around a small park. "That's our place—the brownstone with the blue door."

I followed his gaze to see an elegant four-story building with warm honey-colored stone and tall windows that caught the morning light. It looked nothing like the cold perfection of my family's estate. This felt... lived in and welcoming.

"It's beautiful," I said, meaning it.

"Christopher picked it out," Miles said with obvious affection. "He has an eye for homes that feel like sanctuaries rather than showpieces."

We pulled up to the curb, and I could see movement behind the windows—shadows of people preparing for my arrival. My stomach fluttered with renewed nerves.

"They're all here?" I asked.

"Julian and Christopher are. Nicolaus had an early meeting but he'll be back in a few hours. He was rather angry with his manager for scheduling him today when he asked him not to.” Miles spoke, his lip twitching in amusement.

"Don't be nervous," Miles added, seeing my expression.

"They've been practically nesting since dawn, making sure everything's perfect for you. "

The image of these powerful Alphas fussing over my arrival brought an unexpected smile to my face. "Nesting?"

"Oh, you should've seen Christopher arranging flowers in your suite for the third time. And Julian's been pacing like an expectant father." Miles's eyes crinkled with genuine amusement. "It's been quite the spectacle."

Miles parked the car then came to my side andopened my door, letting in a burst of fresh air scented with nearby flowering trees.

As I stepped out, the blue door of the brownstone opened, and Julian appeared at the top of the steps.

He wore dark jeans and a simple gray henley that somehow made him look more approachable than the polished athlete I'd first met.

His eyes found mine immediately, and the smile that spread across his face was unlike anything I'd seen from him before— unguarded, genuinely pleased, tinged with relief as if he'd been holding his breath all week.

"Welcome home," he said, his voice carrying easily across the small distance between us.

Home. The word hit me with unexpected force. Not "welcome to our house" or "welcome to the Vale residence," but home. As if I already belonged here, as if this place had been waiting for me.

Christopher appeared beside Julian, his copper hair catching the morning light as he bounded down the steps with characteristic energy.

"Finally," he said, reaching us just as Milesr began unloading my suitcases.

"We were starting to think your parents had changed their minds and locked you in a tower. "

"They considered it," I said, then immediately worried the joke was too bold. But Christopher laughed, a warm sound that made something tight in my chest loosen.

"Well, we're glad they didn't," he said, his gray eyes twinkling with mirth. "Though I'm sure Julian would have mounted a rescue mission if necessary."

Julian descended the steps with fluid grace, and I found myself holding my breath as he approached. Up close, I could catch hints of his scent—that warm blend of cloves and rain-soaked earth that had made my knees weak just a week ago.

"How was the drive?" he asked, his attention focused entirely on me as if Miles and Christopher had simply vanished.

"Educational," I said, glancing at Miles, who was directing Christoper with my luggage. "Miles helped clarify some... misconceptions I had about the arrangement."

Julian's expression darkened slightly. "What kind of misconceptions?”

"The kind my parents wanted me to have," I said carefully, still adjusting to the idea that I could speak honestly about them. "About what would happen if things didn't work out between us."

Julian's jaw tightened, but his voice remained gentle when he spoke. "And what did they tell you would happen?"

I found myself looking down at my hands, the old habit of avoiding direct eye contact when discussing uncomfortable topics reasserting itself. "That I'd be returned to them in disgrace. That no other pack would want damaged goods."

The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut. When I finally looked up, Julian's expression had gone completely still—not angry, exactly, but something far more dangerous. Controlled fury.

"They used those exact words?" Christopher asked, his usual cheerful demeanor replaced by something harder.

"Among others," I admitted quietly.

Miles moved closer, positioning himself protectively at my side. "I told her it was complete bullshit," he said bluntly, earning a sharp look from Julian. "What? It is."

"Miles is correct, if inelegant," Julian said, his voice carefully controlled. "Your parents have no claim on you anymore, Lilianna. None whatsoever." He stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from his body. "And you are not, nor could you ever be, damaged goods."

The conviction in his voice made something crack open inside my chest. I'd heard those words—damaged goods—so often from my mother that they'd become part of how I saw myself. Hearing Julian reject them so completely felt like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

"Why don't we get you inside?" Christopher suggested gently, breaking the tension. "We can continue this conversation somewhere more comfortable."

I nodded gratefully, suddenly aware that we were standing on a public street where anyone might observe us. My parents had drilled into me that family matters should never be discussed where outsiders might overhear.

Julian seemed to sense my discomfort, stepping back to give me space while still maintaining that protective presence. "Of course. You must be exhausted from the week you've had."

Christopher bounded ahead to hold the blue door open, his enthusiasm infectious despite the heavy turn our conversation had taken. "Wait until you see your suite," he said, practically vibrating with excitement. "We may have gone a bit overboard."

As we climbed the front steps, I caught my first glimpse of the interior through the open doorway.

Where my family's estate was all cold marble and formal arrangements, this felt warm and lived-in.

Rich hardwood floors gleamed under soft lighting, and I could see comfortable furniture arranged for actual conversation rather than display.

"Why don’t you two” glancing to Miles and Christopher, “bring her belongings inside.” Julian paused at the threshold, his hand hovering near—but not quite touching—the small of my back.

"May I?" he asked, the simple courtesy making my throat tight with unexpected emotion. I nodded, and his palm settled lightly against my back as he guided me inside. The warmth of his touch radiated through the thin fabric of my dress, grounding me as I stepped into my new life.