Page 54

Chapter Thirty-Six

Lilianna

We stood there in the garden for a long moment, Julian's arms solid around me while the morning sun warmed our shoulders. When I finally pulled back to look at him, his expression had shifted to something more playful, though his eyes still held that tender intensity that made my stomach flutter.

"There's something else I wanted to discuss with you," he said, his hands settling at my waist. "About the individual courting we talked about yesterday."

My pulse quickened at the reminder. "What about it?"

"I'd like to take you somewhere special. Just the two of us." His thumb traced small circles against my hip through the fabric of my dress. "There's a place I think you'd love—a small botanical conservatory about an hour from here."

The combination of plants and music made my heart leap. "That sounds perfect. When?"

"How about tomorrow?" Julian suggested, his smile warming his eyes. "We could make a day of it. The conservatory has a special section of rare orchids that bloom this time of year, and there's a small café overlooking the gardens where we could have lunch."

The thought of spending an entire day alone with Julian sent a thrill of nervous excitement through me. "I'd love that," I said, unable to keep the eagerness from my voice.

His smile broadened, and he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my cheek. "It's settled then. I'll make the arrangements."

I leaned into his touch without thinking, my body responding to him with an ease that still surprised me. "Should I dress a certain way?"

"Comfortably," he replied, his thumb grazing my cheekbone. "We'll be doing quite a bit of walking.”

The way Julian said “comfortably” made my cheeks warm—like he wasn’t just thinking about walking.

Like maybe he was imagining other things too, quieter, more intimate moments that had nothing to do with orchids or footpaths.

The thought fluttered low in my stomach, a curious mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

“I’ll pick something soft,” I murmured, trying not to let my voice tremble with the sudden rush of awareness curling through me. “Something easy to move in.”

His eyes flicked down to my mouth, just briefly, before returning to mine. “Good.”

It was such a simple word. But the way he said it made me feel seen in a way I wasn’t used to.

Wanted, not just for what I might become, but exactly as I was now.

The wind stirred the leaves around us, and for a few heartbeats, we just stood there in that hush, like the world had paused to let us linger in it.

Then Julian’s hand slipped from my cheek to my lower back, the contact steadying but not possessive. “Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s head back before the others come looking for us and start speculating.”

I laughed under my breath, the sound lighter than I expected. “Christopher would probably start taking bets.”

“Oh, he already has,” Julian said with a crooked grin. “He’s collecting odds on who gets the first solo date.”

I blinked, half-laughing. “Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Julian laughed, seeing my face.

“Who’s in the lead?” I was genuinely curious, as a smile came over my face.

Julian gave me a look that could only be described as smug Alpha confidence.

“Who do you think? ” I elbowed him lightly, and he chuckled, the sound deep and rich as it rolled through his chest. Still, he didn’t let me go as we turned and walked the garden path back toward the house.

His hand remained at the small of my back, guiding me gently but protectively, like I was something precious he intended to care for.

I hadn’t realized how good it could feel, to be watched over like that without it feeling like control.

Just care. Attention. A quiet kind of claiming that asked nothing of me in return.

The air in the house was cooler than the garden, scented with that familiar mix of cinnamon, cloves, and the faintest trace of fresh-cut flowers.

Julian kept one hand at the small of my back as we moved through the hallway. It wasn’t possessive—it never was with him. His touch was subtle, steady, and grounding in a way that made my body relax without thinking. I felt like I could lean into him and be caught every time.

I caught the sound of piano music coming from the sunken living room—a gentle, almost tentative melody. Each note rang soft and mellow, as if it were meant to soothe rather than perform.

“Who is playing?” I asked, blinking as I was led to where the piano was playing. I paused at the door of the music room, Miles was sitting at the baby grand near the window, sleeves pushed up to his forearms, head slightly bowed.

For a moment, I just watched. Julian leaned in, murmuring close to my ear. “He plays when he’s thinking. He’s probably working through what he wants to say to you.”

I smiled faintly. “That’s… kind of poetic.”

Julian’s mouth quirked. “He’ll deny it, of course.

” I let out a breath that was half laugh, half sigh, and stepped into the room fully.

Christopher was already sprawled across the oversized rug, legs crossed, flipping through a magazine— upside down, for some reason. He looked up as soon as he saw us.

“Well, finally ,” he drawled dramatically, tossing the magazine aside like it had betrayed him. “I was about to come searching. Thought you’d been eaten by a rogue goose out there.”

Julian didn’t miss a beat. “You’re confusing gardens with lakes again.”

“I contain multitudes,” Christopher said cheerfully, then turned his attention to me. “So? Did he woo you with botany? Sweep you off your feet with a dramatic reading of Latin plant names?”

“Close,” I said, trying not to laugh. “He invited me to a conservatory tomorrow.”

Christopher gasped and clutched his chest. “A solo date? Already?” He turned toward the piano with exaggerated offense. “Miles, did you hear that? Julian has moved forward with tactical precision and none of us were warned.”

Miles didn’t stop playing, but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You mean he asked her like a sane person instead of making it a production?”

“Where’s the romance in sanity ?” Christopher asked, scandalized. “I was planning roses, a handwritten sonnet, and maybe a falcon with a scroll tied to its leg.”

“That poor falcon,” I murmured, which made Miles chuckle softly at the keys.

Nicolaus was perched on the windowsill with a tablet resting on one knee, a sleek black stylus twirling slowly between his fingers.

He glanced up, and our eyes met. His gaze wasn’t overt or demanding—it never was—but there was something in it that made my breath catch.

Like he could see through me in a single glance and still wanted to look deeper.

“You’ll need a scarf,” he said matter-of-factly. “For the conservatory. The humidity inside mixed with the outdoor chill tends to mess with your thermoregulation.”

“Thank you,” I said, blinking. “I wouldn’t have thought of that.” His fingers stilled over the tablet briefly, and for just a heartbeat, there was something like softness in his expression. Then he looked down again, the stylus resuming its slow spin.

“You might also consider flats,” Miles added, finally easing away from the piano. “Their orchid section involves a lot of winding paths.”

I felt a strange little flutter in my chest at how casually thoughtful they all were. It wasn’t grand gestures or flashy declarations—it was attention. Real, tangible, lived-in care. I wasn’t used to that. It settled into my chest like warm tea on a cold day.

Then Christopher sat up abruptly, one finger raised. “Since Julian has officially claimed the first solo date, I propose we schedule ours next.”

Julian's eyes narrowed playfully. "You're assuming she wants a second date before the first one has even happened."

"Of course she does," Christopher replied with complete confidence, turning those gray eyes on me with a grin that was equal parts charming and mischievous. "Don't you, sweetheart?"

I felt heat creep up my neck at being put on the spot, but there was something infectious about Christopher's enthusiasm. "I... yes, I'd like that," I admitted, surprised by my own boldness.

"Excellent!" Christopher clapped his hands together. "I'm thinking cooking lessons. Just you, me, and whatever culinary magic we can create together. Fair warning though—I may get distracted by how adorable you look when you concentrate."

"Christopher," Julian warned, though his tone held more amusement than reproach.

"What? I'm being honest about my intentions. "Transparency is key in courting," Christopher added, winking at me. "And I intend to be very transparent about how utterly captivating I find our Lilianna."

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me. There was something disarming about Christopher's straightforward flirtation—it never felt pressuring or uncomfortable, just playful and warm.

"Fine," Julian conceded with a mock sigh. "But I get her first."

Miles stood from the piano bench, stretching slightly as he approached. "And I'll claim the third date, if that's acceptable to you, Lilianna?" His green eyes held mine with quiet intensity that made my breath catch.

"I'd like that," I said softly, wondering what Miles might have planned.

"Which leaves me for fourth," Nicolaus noted, setting his tablet aside. "How fortunate that patience is one of my many talents.”

Christopher groaned dramatically, flopping backward onto the rug. "Nicolaus, you make patience sound like a weapon."

"Isn't it?" Nicolaus replied with the hint of a smile, his blue eyes glinting with something that made my pulse quicken. "Good things come to those who wait."

The way he said it, low and deliberate, sent a shiver down my spine. There was something about Nicolaus that was different from the others—where Julian was protective, Miles gentle, and Christopher playful, Nicolaus was... intense. Like he saw everything and filed it away for later consideration.

"Well then," I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the way all four of them were looking at me. "I suppose I have quite a week ahead of me."

"Just a week?" Christopher asked, propping himself up on his elbows. "Sweetheart, we're just getting started. Courting is a process, not a sprint."

Miles nodded, his green eyes warm. "Exactly. We want to know you—really know you—and that takes time."

The depth of commitment in his voice made my heart flutter. These weren't just casual dates they were planning; this was deliberate, intentional courting. They wanted to build something real with me.

"I think I'd like that," I admitted softly. "The taking time part."

Julian's hand found the small of my back again, his touch gentle but grounding. "Then that's what we'll do. No rush, no pressure."

"Speak for yourself," Christopher quipped, rising gracefully from the floor. "I'm already planning our next three dates after the cooking lesson."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what might those be?"

"Ah-ah," he said, waggling a finger at me with a mischievous grin. "That would ruin the surprise. But I will say this—one involves chocolate, another involves getting your hands dirty, and the third... well, let's just say I have plans to make you laugh until your sides hurt."

"That's remarkably vague," I pointed out, though I couldn't keep the smile from my face.

"That's the point," Christopher replied, moving closer until he was standing directly in front of me. "Half the fun is the anticipation."

Miles chuckled from behind him. "Christopher's idea of romantic suspense usually involves elaborate schemes that go sideways in entertaining ways."

"Name one time," Christopher protested, turning to face Miles with mock indignation.

"The picnic with the aggressive swans," Julian said dryly, rolling his eyes at the memory.

"They were not aggressive," Christopher insisted, whirling back to face Julian. "They were passionate. There's a difference."

"They chased us for a quarter mile," Miles pointed out, his green eyes dancing with amusement. "You had to climb a tree."

"A strategic retreat," Christopher corrected, but his lips twitched with suppressed laughter. "And I looked magnificent doing it."

I giggled at the mental image of Christopher perched in a tree, fending off determined waterfowl. "I think I'd like to hear this whole story sometime."

"Oh, I have albums of stories," Miles promised, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "Years of Christopher's romantic misadventures. The swan incident wasn't even the most dramatic."

Christopher's eyes widened in horror, as he narrowed his eyes at Miles. "You wouldn't dare."

"I absolutely would," Miles countered with a serene smile. "Consider it my solemn duty to ensure Lilianna knows exactly what she's getting into with you."

"Betrayal!" Christopher declared, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead in a dramatic gesture. "From my own packmate!"

I laughed, the sound bubbling up freely from my chest. It felt good—natural in a way laughter never had before. Being with them was easy in moments like this, the banter flowing around me like a current I could slip into without fear of drowning.

"I think I'd enjoy hearing all those stories," I admitted, meeting Miles's gaze with newfound boldness. "Every embarrassing detail."

Christopher's jaw dropped in mock offense. "Lilianna!?"

Julian chuckled, his hand still warm against my lower back. "I believe our omega has chosen sides."

I laughed again, just enjoying the atmosphere of being in the presence of these Alphas…these men. I couldn’t wait to see what these dates would hold.