But my fingers came away damp, proof that my body had been expressing things my mind hadn't fully processed.
Kade's hand with the handkerchief moved closer, not reaching for me but placing it within easy grasp. “Take it,” he said. “Please.”
I stared at the white fabric. It looked impossibly clean, crisp, and perfect, entirely too nice for me to touch with my tear-stained hands. But he was offering it, was waiting patiently for me to accept.
My arm moved almost without conscious decision, hand extending from where I'd held it defensively. My fingers reached for the handkerchief, and for a moment our skin touched again. I bit my lip as he caressed my fingertips, pulling me closer.
I fell into his arms, warm, solid arms that held me tight, soothing the tears from my body. The contact sent a familiar jolt of heat through me. Not painful, not threatening, just warm and present, somehow right in a way that scared me as much as it comforted.
And then I smelled it.
Oak, rich and deep and unmistakably Kade. His scent filled my nose, invaded my senses, and made my Omega biology respond with a surge of want that I couldn't control.
Safe, something in me whispered. This scent means safe.
The intimacy of his arms around me was overwhelming. It was a gentle caress I hadn’t experienced before. No Alpha had held me like this. No Alpha had held me full stop. My old pack only wanted me for one thing, and that didn’t involve cuddles and kisses.
Now I was thinking about the taste of his lips, the feel of his body sliding against my own. I looked up at him, and he smiled, releasing me from his arms. I almost groaned as he stepped back.
“All better now?” he asked.
I smiled and nodded, unsure what to say, except, “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
His smile widened slightly, reaching his eyes and making them crinkle at the corners. “You're welcome.”
A strange thought filtered through my mind. It seemed almost impossible. But when he’d held me, it felt nice... good even. Like he was meant to hold me every day till my last. I almost shook my head in confusion. Because here I was,standing normally, not shaking, and my pulse slowing toward something sustainable... with no inkling of fear beneath it.
That had to count for something.
Chapter Twelve
Jasmine
From the doorway of what I presumed was the kitchen, Theo walked through. Stopping dead in his tracks when he saw me. He smiled, and then when he spoke, his voice was surprisingly gentle.
“Let me make us some drinks,” he said, the suggestion casual, normal, like we hadn't just had a crisis in the studio. “Something warm. Maybe some food.”
He turned and moved into the hallway, his massive frame somehow managing not to seem threatening as he walked. Just present. Solid. Real.
Kade gestured for me to follow, and I did. We moved through the hallway back into the main penthouse living area, and I stopped in the entrance, surprised by what I saw.
The space had been transformed. The leather couches were covered in blankets and pillows, layers of soft fabric in shades of cream, gray, and burgundy, creating what looked almost like a nest. Throw pillows were arranged along the backs and arms of the furniture, providing support and comfort. On the low stone fireplace, a small fire crackled, sending warm light dancing across the walls.
It looked cozy. Inviting, and safe in a way that made my chest ache.
“We thought you might need some comfort after the recording session,” Lucian's voice came from deeper in the room. I found him near the fireplace, adjusting the position of a blanket draped over one couch. His ocean-colored eyes met mine with warmth. “A movie night seemed appropriate.”
They'd done this for me. Had set up this entire space, built this nest of comfort, because they'd anticipated I might need it.
I didn't know what to say.
Theo appeared from the kitchen. He moved to where I stood frozen in the entrance and smiled; the expression transforming his scarred face into something unexpectedly gentle.
“Come on,” he said, and then he was draping something soft around my shoulders.
A throw blanket, thick and warm, settled around me like a gentle weight. The fabric was impossibly soft, maybe cashmere or something equally luxurious, and it carried the faint mixed scents of all three Alphas—oak, leather, and rosewood tangled together.
Theo's hands lingered briefly on my shoulders, adjusting the blanket, and then he guided me toward a large couch with a light touch at the small of my back. “Sit with me,” he said, making it a request rather than a command. “I promise I don't bite.”
