“Says the man who ate an entire cake by himself last month,” Theo shot back, but he was grinning now, the expression transforming his face back into something gentle despite the scar.
“It was a small cake,” Lucian protested, catching another piece of popcorn that Theo had thrown and popping it into his mouth. “And it was my birthday.”
“It was actually my birthday,” Kade interjected from beside me, his voice dry but holding an undercurrent of humor. “And you ate my cake.”
“Details.” Lucian waved his hand dismissively, then flicked another kernel at Theo, this one hitting him square in the forehead.
I watched the exchange with growing confusion. They were... playing? These Alphas, who moments ago had been looking at me with such intense want, were now throwing food at each other and bickering like siblings.
Theo launched a handful of popcorn at Lucian in retaliation, the pieces scattering across the coffee table and floor. Lucian ducked, laughing, and the sound of it was rich and unguarded.
“You're cleaning that up,” Kade said, but even his controlled demeanor was cracking around the edges. I saw the corner of his mouth twitch, saw him fighting a smile.
“Worth it,” Theo declared, and threw another piece.
The corner of my mouth was doing something strange. Twitching upward. A smile wanted to form, and more than that, something else was building in my chest.
Pressure. Not painful, not frightening, but insistent. It rose from somewhere deep inside, bubbled up through my ribs, and before I could stop it, sound emerged.
Laughter.
It was small at first, just a huff of breath that might have been mistaken for surprise. But then it grew, became real, genuine laughter that shook my shoulders and made my eyes water for entirely different reasons than they had earlier.
I was laughing. Actually laughing, the sound bright and surprised even to my own ears. When was the last time I'd laughed? Really laughed, not the bitter, cynical sound I sometimes made at the cruel ironies of street life, but genuine amusement?
Years. It had been years.
The three Alphas stopped their food fight immediately, all attention turning to me. But their expressions weren't predatory now. They looked pleased, satisfied, like they'd accomplished something important.
“There it is,” Theo said softly, his voice holding warmth that made my chest ache in a good way.
I tried to stop laughing, to get myself under control, but another giggle escaped. My hand came up to cover my mouth, trying to contain the sound, but it kept coming anyway.
Lucian was smiling at me, with a tender expression that made his handsome features even more striking. “You should laugh more often,” he said. “It suits you.”
The comment should have made me self-conscious, should have shut down the laughter and brought back my wariness. But somehow it didn't. Somehow, in this moment, surrounded by blankets, firelight and three Alphas who'd deliberately broken their own tension to make me comfortable, I felt... safe.
I let myself nestle deeper into the blankets, pulling them tighter around my shoulders, and turned to watch the movie. The characters on screen doing something silly that I'd missed while watching the Alphas' food fight. But it didn't matter. I could catch up, could follow along, could just exist here in this nest of comfort they'd built.
My body was relaxing in ways I hadn't allowed in years. My shoulders dropped, the constant tension draining away. My injured ankle was propped on the couch cushions, elevated and supported. The fire crackled warmth across my skin, and the blankets cocooned me in softness.
For the first time since leaving my mother's house all those years ago, before the pack, the beatings, the loss, and the streets, I felt something close to home.
The thought should have terrified me. Should have sent me running back to my room to lock the door and remind myself that feelings like this were dangerous, that letting my guard down led to pain.
But I was so tired of running. Exhausted of being afraid. Wearied of surviving instead of living.
Maybe, just maybe, I could let myself imagine staying. Not forever, not permanently, but at least for the six weeks until the gala. Maybe I could imagine what it would be like to have a place, to have people who cared whether I was okay, to have Alphas who broke the tension with popcorn fights instead of fists.
Theo shifted beside me, adjusting his position to get more comfortable, and his shoulder brushed against mine. The contact was brief, casual, and he didn't pull away or apologize. Just let it rest there, a point of warm connection.
I didn't pull away either.
On screen, the movie characters were doing something that made Lucian snort with laughter. Kade commented on the implausible physics, and Theo defended the movie's artistic license with mock seriousness.
They were just... normal. Just three men watching a movie together, comfortable with each other, including me in their space like I belonged there.
Maybe I could believe that. Just for tonight. Just for this moment.
