Whiskey grins at me. "Look at you, all HGTV and shit."
"I used to watch a lot of home renovation shows," I admit, feeling a pang of nostalgia for simpler times.
His expression softens. "Hey, we'll do our best to make this place feel like a sanctuary for you. Promise."
The sincerity in his voice catches me off guard. I'm not used to alphas being genuine. At all. "Thanks," I murmur, unsure how else to respond.
Whiskey keeps up a steady stream of chatter as we arrange furniture, telling me stories about the team and their antics. It's clear he's trying to make me feel comfortable even though I'm too stressed to absorb most of it, and I appreciate the effort.
The sound of power tools from upstairs isn't doing much for my nerves, and I don't fully realize how much the drilling and hammering sounds were freaking me out until they stop and Thane and Plague come back downstairs. Thane's expression is grim as he checks his phone.
"Valek's on his way," he announces. "We've got about fifteen minutes."
My heart rate kicks up a notch. This is it. Time to disappear again.
"The loft is secure," Plague adds. "We reinforced the door and disguised it as part of the wall with quick-drying spackle that will at least be white by the time Valek gets here. No one will find it unless they know exactly where to look."
I nod. "Thank you," I say, meaning it. "All of you."
Whiskey steps forward, looking like he wants to hug me but restraining himself. "We've got your back, Ivy. Whatever you need."
"I know," I say. And I do know, somehow. These alphas might be virtual strangers, but there's a connection here I can't deny. Whether it's the scent match or just their genuine desire to help, I'm not sure. Maybe both.
Thane clears his throat. "Before you go up, I was wondering if it would be alright to give you our numbers. And maybe add you to the pack group chat, too." He hesitates. "Only if you want, of course. No pressure."
I'm not sure myself. Having a direct line to all of them could be useful, but it's also a level of connection I'm not sure I'm ready for. Then again, I'm about to be locked in a loft with one of them. Might as well at least read the chat even if I don't say anything. I could spot red flags more easily that way, too.
"Okay," I agree. "But I'm going to mute the chat if it's going off all the time."
Whiskey grins a little. "Oh, it does."
I glance around at the four alphas surrounding me, each watching me with obvious hope. It's a strange feeling, being the center of this intense focus after months of working so hard to be invisible. Part of me still wants to run, but another part—the partthat slept safely in Wraith's arms last night—wants to give them a chance.
"I'm not promising anything," I say carefully. "But I'd like to get to know each of you. Individually. When it's safe."
Whiskey's face lights up with an unguarded smile that reminds me of an excited golden retriever. "Fuck yeah." He seems to catch himself, toning down his enthusiasm when Wraith shoots him a warning look. "I mean, that's cool. Whenever you're ready."
"We'd appreciate that opportunity," Thane says. "At your pace, of course."
Plague's reaction is more subtle, just the slightest easing of tension in his posture, but I sense his interest nonetheless. He nods. "Texting might be a good way to start. You could talk to us without having to be in the same space."
"True," I agree, nodding. "I don't want to talk one-on-one yet, though. Group chat only, at least for now."
Thane pulls out his phone, more quickly than I'd expected from the serious alpha. "What's your number?" he asks.
I hesitate before giving him my burner phone number. It feels significant, like I'm lowering some invisible shield I've been hiding behind. But if I'm going to be living in their pack house, even secretly, they should have a way to reach me.
Another buzz from Thane's phone makes him tense as he adds me to the group chat. "Valek's five minutes out," he announces. "You need to get upstairs. We'll handle Valek."
My stomach drops. The brief moment of almost-normalcy evaporates, replaced by the familiar crawl of anxiety up myspine. Wraith signs something to his brother, his movements sharp and definitive.
Thane nods grimly. "I know. If he mentions seeing an omega, we'll deny everything. Say he was concussed and hallucinating." He glances at me. "We've got this covered, Ivy."
The confidence in his voice should probably be reassuring, but my heart still hammers against my ribs. I've spent too long hiding, too long looking over my shoulder, to feel safe just because four alphas say they'll protect me.
"We've thoroughly cleaned the areas you've been in," Plague adds smoothly. "And scent-neutralizing agents have been applied throughout the common spaces and vents. Unless he physically enters the loft, which he won't, he shouldn't detect anything unusual."
"And if he tries to go near the loft..." Whiskey's voice drops to a growl, leaving the threat unfinished but clear.
