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Chapter Thirty

Lilianna

Each day brought new discoveries as my body continued to adjust to the reduced suppressants.

Colors seemed more vibrant, scents more complex, and the simple pleasure of a hot shower had become almost overwhelming in its intensity.

But nothing was as disorienting as my growing awareness of the four men caring for me.

I noticed things I'd been blind to before—the way Julian's eyes darkened when our hands accidentally brushed, how Miles's scent strengthened whenever he leaned close to show me something in his gardening journals, the careful way Christopher ensured our fingers touched when he passed me a mug of tea, and the increasingly frequent moments when Nicolaus's cold mask slipped to reveal something warmer, more primal beneath.

Now it was Saturday morning, and I stood in my room staring at my reflection, trying to decide what to wear for our shopping trip.

The handful of dresses my mother had deemed appropriate suddenly seemed like costume pieces—garments that belonged to a different version of myself, one I was rapidly outgrowing.

I selected the simplest dress I owned, a navy blue A-line with minimal embellishment.

At least it wouldn't draw attention while we shopped for clothes that actually reflected who I was becoming.

My hand hovered over the green silk scarf Miles had scented for me, tempted to bring it for comfort in what would certainly be an overwhelming day.

A gentle knock at my door interrupted my frustrated contemplation of the limited options.

"Come in," I called, turning from the mirror with a sigh.

Miles entered, carrying what looked like a garment bag. His green eyes took in my expression, and a smile tugged at his lips.

"Having trouble deciding?" he asked, setting the bag down on my bed.

"Everything I own feels... wrong," I admitted. "Like they belong to someone else."

"They do," Miles said simply. "They belong to the person your parents wanted you to be, not who you actually are." He gestured to the garment bag. "Which is why I thought this might help, just for today."

I approached the bed cautiously, curiosity overcoming my uncertainty. "What is it?"

Miles unzipped the garment bag carefully, revealing a dress unlike anything I'd ever owned.

The fabric was a deep forest green that reminded me immediately of his eyes, but the cut was different from anything my mother would have approved of —still modest but somehow more alive, with gentle curves that followed the female form rather than hiding it.

"I hope you don't mind," Miles said, his voice carrying a note of uncertainty I rarely heard from him. "I noticed how much you seemed drawn to green when we were choosing your nesting materials, and I thought... well, I thought you might like to wear something that was chosen specifically for you."

I reached out to touch the fabric, marveling at its softness. The material seemed to shimmer slightly in the morning light, and I could already imagine how it would feel against my increasingly sensitive skin.

"You bought this for me?" I whispered, my throat tight with emotion and before I could stop myself I threw my arms around him.

Miles's arms came around me immediately, strong and warm, pulling me against his chest as I breathed in his familiar scent of earth and growing things.

The embrace felt different from the careful hugs he'd given me before—more solid, more present.

I could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my cheek, could sense the way his breathing deepened as he held me.

"Of course I did," he murmured into my hair, his voice rougher than usual. "I wanted you to have something beautiful, something that was yours from the beginning."

I pulled back slightly to look up at him, suddenly aware of how close we were, how his hands had settled at the small of my back, how his green eyes had darkened as they searched my face. The air between us felt charged, electric in a way that made my skin tingle.

"Miles," I whispered, not sure what I was asking for but knowing I wanted something more than words could express.

His hands tightened slightly at my waist, and I watched his gaze drop to my lips with an intensity that made my breath catch. "Lilianna," he said softly, my name sounding different in his deeper voice. "Are you sure?"

Instead of answering with words, I rose up on my toes, closing the distance between us.

His lips met mine with a hunger that was barely restrained, different from Julian's careful gentleness but no less perfect.

Where Julian had been teaching, Miles was claiming—his mouth moving against mine with a confidence that made my knees weak and my hands fist in his shirt.

He tasted like morning coffee and something uniquely him, earthy and warm.

When his tongue traced my lower lip, I gasped, and he took advantage of the opening to deepen the kiss.

The sensation sent heat spiraling through me, pooling low in my belly in a way that made me press closer to him instinctively.

Miles groaned softly at my response, one hand sliding up to tangle in my hair while the other remained firm at my waist, anchoring me against him.

When we finally broke apart, both of us were breathing hard. Miles rested his forehead against mine, his green eyes blazing with barely controlled desire.

"God, Lilianna," he breathed, his thumb tracing my swollen lips. "You're going to drive us all crazy."

I felt heat flood my cheeks at his words, but also a thrill of feminine power I'd never experienced before. "Is that bad?" I asked softly.

"No," he said firmly, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "It's perfect. You're perfect." He stepped back reluctantly, his hands sliding away from me before he took a step back.

Heat flooded my cheeks at his words, but I didn't look away. "Will you stay while I try it on?”

Miles's eyes darkened at my request, his breath catching audibly. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice rougher than I'd ever heard it.

I nodded, surprised by my own boldness. "I trust you."

The simple words seemed to affect him deeply. He moved to the window, turning his back to give me privacy while remaining in the room as I'd asked. "Just tell me when you're ready."

My hands trembled slightly as I reached for the zipper of my current dress, hyperaware of his presence even with his back turned. The navy fabric pooled at my feet, and I stepped out of it carefully before lifting the forest green dress from the bed.

The moment the new fabric touched my skin, I understood why Miles had chosen it.

The material was impossibly soft, sliding over my curves like water.

The cut was more fitted than anything I'd ever worn, following the lines of my body in a way that felt both comfortable and undeniably feminine.

The neckline was modest but somehow more flattering than the severe cuts my mother had preferred, and the skirt fell to just below my knees with a gentle flare that moved beautifully as I turned.

"I'm ready," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Miles turned slowly, and the expression that crossed his face when he saw me made my breath catch. His green eyes darkened as they traveled from my face down to my feet and back up again, lingering in ways that made my skin flush with heat.

"Beautiful," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. "Absolutely beautiful."

I moved to the mirror, hardly recognizing the woman looking back at me. The dress transformed me—or perhaps it simply revealed who I'd always been beneath the careful layers of repression. I ran my hand through my hair, not used to it being down, when Miles came up behind me.

“Would you like me to do your hair?” He asked, glancing over me for a second.

I turned to face him, surprised by the offer. "You know how to do hair?"

Miles smiled, his hands already reaching toward the strands that had fallen across my shoulder. "I have many hidden talents," he said softly. "May I?"

I nodded, mesmerized by the gentle way his fingers combed through my hair. He guided me to sit at the small vanity, his touch sending shivers down my spine as he gathered the length of it in his hands.

"Just something simple," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear as he worked. "Nothing too complicated and you won’t have any products in your hair.”

I watched in the mirror as he twisted sections of my hair with practiced ease, creating something elegant but effortless-looking. His fingers brushed against my nape as he secured the style, and I couldn't suppress the small gasp that escaped me at the contact.

"There," he said, stepping back to admire his work. "Perfect."

I stared at my reflection in wonder. The soft updo he'd created left gentle tendrils framing my face while showing off the elegant neckline of the dress. I looked... sophisticated. Feminine in a way I'd never been allowed to explore before.

"How did you learn to do that?" I asked, reaching up to touch the delicate arrangement of hair.

"My sister," Miles replied, his expression softening with memory. "Before she mated and moved away, I used to help her get ready for special occasions. She said I had better hands for it than she did."

The casual mention of his family made me realize how little I knew about their lives before me. "Will I meet her someday?"

"I hope so," Miles said, his green eyes warm. "She'd love you. She's always said I needed someone to keep me grounded."

His words sent a flutter through my chest—the implication that I might be that someone, that this connection between us could be lasting.

"Am I keeping you grounded?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Miles's expression grew tender as he reached out to trace one of the loose tendrils framing my face. "More than you know," he murmured. "You've changed everything, Lilianna."

A soft knock at the door interrupted the moment. "Lilianna? Miles? Everyone's ready whenever you are," came Julian's voice.

Miles's fingers lingered against my cheek for a heartbeat longer before dropping away. "Shall we?" he asked, offering his arm with a smile that made my pulse quicken.

I slipped my hand into the crook of his elbow, feeling anchored by his solid presence. "I'm ready."

The moment we stepped into the hallway and down the stairs, I heard Christopher's sharp intake of breath. By the time we reached the living room, all three men had turned to look at us, and the intensity of their collective gaze made my steps falter.

"Jesus," Christopher breathed, his gray eyes wide with something that made my stomach flutter. "Lilianna, you look..."

"Stunning," Julian finished, his hazel eyes dark with appreciation as they traveled over the green dress. "Absolutely stunning."

Nicolaus said nothing, but his blue eyes had gone molten in a way I'd never seen before, his usual analytical mask completely abandoned as he stared at me with undisguised hunger.

"The dress suits you perfectly," Julian continued, moving closer with predatory grace. "Miles chose well."

I felt heat rise in my cheeks at their attention, suddenly hyperaware of how the fabric clung to my curves, how the neckline revealed just enough to hint at what lay beneath without being improper.

The way they were all looking at me—like I was something precious and desired—made my breath catch in my throat.

"Thank you," I managed, my voice barely steady. "Miles even did my hair."

"Of course he did," Christopher said with a soft laugh, though his eyes remained intense as they lingered on the elegant updo. "Is there anything you can't do, Miles?"

"Apparently not," Nicolaus said, his voice rougher than usual. He cleared his throat, visibly pulling himself together. "We should go before the stores get crowded."

Julian moved to my other side, and suddenly I was flanked by Miles and Julian while Christopher and Nicolaus followed close behind.

The protective formation made me feel cherished rather than confined, especially when Julian's hand settled lightly at the small of my back.

I was ready to get out of the house and spend time with them.