Page 51

Miles nodded, adding, "You'd have complete veto power. This isn't about exposing you—it's about creating a buffer of controlled information to protect you from speculation."

I took another sip of tea, considering. "I think I could handle that. As long as I get to see everything first."

"Absolutely," Julian confirmed. "Mara suggested starting with something simple—perhaps a photo of our hands intertwined, or you in the garden from behind. Nothing that would identify you to strangers. She also said if you wanted you could make an account yourself and post quotes and little things as well, especially on Instagram where we post about our day or training.”

"My own account?" I asked, the idea both thrilling and terrifying. "I've never had social media before. My parents said it was frivolous and dangerous."

"It would be entirely up to you," Miles said gently. "No pressure at all. But it might be nice to have your own space to share things you love—books you're reading, flowers from the garden, your thoughts about learning violin."

The thought of having a platform to express myself, even anonymously, sent a flutter of excitement through me. "Could I use a different name? Not Lilianna?"

"Of course," Nicolaus replied. "Many people use pseudonyms or initials for privacy all the time.”

"I'd like to think about it," I said, the idea growing more appealing as I considered it. "Maybe start small and see how it feels."

Julian nodded, his expression warm. "There's no rush. We can talk more with Mara tomorrow about the options."

I nodded, "And maybe we could start with just one photo," I suggested, warming to the idea. "Something simple, like you said. To test how it feels."

Julian's expression brightened. "That's perfect. Measured steps."

Miles shifted beside me, his arm settling more comfortably around my shoulders. "Speaking of steps, there's something else we should discuss while we're all together."

"What's that?" I asked, setting my teacup down.

"The courting," he said simply. "Now that we've acknowledged it publicly, we should talk about what that means for us privately."

My heart skipped a beat. I'd blurted out my feelings at the café, but we hadn't had time to truly explore what being "theirs" would entail.

"I can't speak for the others, but I would like to take you out on dates—just you and me sometimes," Miles continued, his green eyes holding mine with gentle intensity. "Get to know you one-on-one, without the group dynamic."

My breath caught at the intimacy his words implied. "Individual dates?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"If you'd like," Julian said, leaning forward slightly. "Traditional courting often involves both group activities and individual time with each potential mate. It allows for deeper connections to develop."

Christopher nodded enthusiastically. "I'd love to cook for you sometime. Just us, no audience. Maybe teach you some techniques if you're interested."

The thought of individual time with each of them sent a flutter of excitement through me. "I'd like that," I said softly, looking around at all four of them. "Very much."

Nicolaus, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke. "Courting also involves certain... traditional elements. Gifts, scent-marking, time spent in each other's territories." His clinical tone couldn't quite mask the warmth in his eyes. "We should discuss your comfort level with these aspects."

I felt heat rise in my cheeks, remembering how naturally I'd accepted scented items for my nest, how I'd already kissed both Julian and Miles. "I think I'm more comfortable with those things than I expected to be," I admitted. "The scent-marking especially. It makes me feel... safe."

"That's how it should feel," Julian said, his voice dropping to a register that made my skin tingle. "Comfort and safety are the foundation of proper courting."

"And desire," Miles added quietly, his thumb tracing gentle circles on my shoulder through the blanket. "You should never feel pressured, but you should also feel free to explore what you want."

The word 'desire' hung in the air between us, loaded with implications that made my breath catch. I was still learning what I wanted, still discovering the woman beneath years of suppression, but I knew with startling clarity that I wanted to explore those feelings with these four men.

"I do want to explore," I said softly, my voice steadier than I felt. "I want to understand what I've been missing, what I've been denied."

Christopher's gray eyes darkened at my admission. "We have all the time in the world, sweetheart. No rushing, no pressure.”

Julian nodded, his expression intense. "We should establish some parameters, though. Boundaries that keep everyone comfortable as we move forward."

"Like what?" I asked, curious about what he meant.

"Like consent," Nicolaus stated plainly. "Nothing happens without your explicit permission. Not a kiss, not a touch, not a scent-mark."

Miles's hand moved to cover mine. "And you can always change your mind. Saying yes once doesn't mean yes forever."

"Also," Christopher added, leaning forward, "we need to be mindful of your hormonal transition. Your body is still adjusting, which means your responses might be... intensified."

I nodded, understanding what he meant. Even casual touches had begun to feel electric lately, my skin hypersensitive to their proximity in ways that sometimes left me breathless.

"Dr. Chen mentioned that," I admitted quietly.

"She also said it was completely normal," Julian added, his voice gentle but with an underlying current of heat. "Your body is remembering how to respond naturally. We just need to be aware that what might have felt manageable before could feel overwhelming now."

I swallowed hard, thinking about how Miles's simple touch on my shoulder had sent sparks through my entire system, how Julian's brief kiss had left me trembling with want I'd never experienced before.

"What if I don't want you to hold back?" I asked quietly, the question slipping out before I could stop it.

The air in the room seemed to thicken at my words. Christopher's breath caught audibly, while Nicolaus's grip tightened almost imperceptibly on his teacup. Miles's hand stilled on my shoulder, his fingers pressing just slightly deeper into the fabric of my cardigan.

"Lilianna," Julian said carefully, his voice rougher than usual, "we need to be very careful about what that means. Your body is going through significant changes, and the line between natural desire and medication-induced responses can be difficult to distinguish."

"But what if I can tell the difference?" I pressed, surprised by my own boldness. "What if I know what I want?"

Nicolaus set his teacup down with deliberate precision, his blue eyes holding mine with an intensity that made my pulse quicken. "Then we listen to you," he said simply. "But we also protect you from making decisions you might regret when your hormones stabilize."

Miles shifted beside me, his warmth pressing closer. "What are you asking for, Lilianna?" he asked gently, his voice low enough that it seemed to vibrate through me.

I took a shaky breath, gathering courage I didn't know I possessed. "I'm asking you to stop treating me like glass because of everything. Yes, I am new to this, but I don’t want you all second guessing what I say.”

Julian's eyes darkened, his jaw tightening visibly. "Fair enough," he said, his voice dropping to that register that made my skin prickle with awareness. "But promise us one thing."

"What's that?" I asked, my heart racing beneath my ribs.

"That you'll be honest—with us and with yourself," he continued. "If something feels too much, too fast, you'll say so."

I nodded, feeling strangely powerful in that moment. "I promise."

"Well then," Christopher said, breaking the tension with a clap of his hands. "I believe our omega has spoken." His gray eyes danced with a mixture of amusement and heat. "No more kid gloves."

Nicolaus's expression had given way to something warmer but more primal. "But still with respect," Nicolaus added, though his clinical tone had given way to something deeper, more personal. "This isn't about rushing you, Lilianna. It's about honoring what you want."

The weight of their collective gaze made my skin flush with heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment.

For the first time in my life, I felt powerful—not despite being an omega, but because of it.

These four strong, accomplished men were looking at me like I held the key to something precious, something they desperately wanted but wouldn't take without permission.

"Thank you," I said softly. "For listening. For taking me seriously."

Julian reached out, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from my face with deliberate slowness. The simple touch sent electricity dancing across my skin. "Always," he murmured, his hazel eyes dark with promise.

A comfortable silence settled between us and I felt content just sitting there with them, confident about the future with them.