Silas's hand finds mine, threading our fingers together. His rain scent wraps around me, mixing with Wyatt's citrus and Hunter's cedar. "We're going to prove to you that this is real. That you're not temporary or a placeholder or any of the other lies Raven tried to plant in your head. You're permanent, Amelia. If you'll let yourself be."
The promise settles over me but my chest still feels tight with all the what-ifs and maybes. Hunter watches me with those knowing hazel eyes, and I can see he understands—that this conversation fixed some things but not everything. That I'm still scared, still waiting for something to go wrong.
"The kids are going to have questions," Hunter says, standing and offering me his hand to help me up. "When they notice us courting you, bringing you gifts, being more openly affectionate. We should figure out what we're going to tell them."
I let him pull me to my feet, steadying myself against his solid presence. "The truth. As much as they can handle for their ages. Riley especially is too smart to fool. She already knows something's happening between us. We should be honest with them."
"Agreed." Silas nods, standing and brushing off his jeans. "Though maybe we wait a bit, let them see that this is stable and real before officially tell the kids."
"That makes sense." I glance toward the living room, where I can hear the faint sounds of the movie still playing. "They've been through so much already. I don't want to disrupt their lives more than necessary."
"You're not disrupting anything," Wyatt says firmly, his hand finding the small of my back. "You're making their lives better. Making all our lives better."
The conviction in his voice makes my eyes sting with tears I refuse to let fall. I've cried enough today. Instead, I lean into his touch, drawing comfort from the steadiness of it.
"So what happens now?" I ask. "Where do we start?"
"Now?" Hunter's smile is small but genuine, transforming his usually serious face. "Now we just keep doing what we've been doing. Spending time together, learning each other, building trust. The courtship will develop naturally from there."
"And maybe," Wyatt adds with a grin, "I can take you on an actual date. Just the two of us. Something that doesn't involve kids or grocery stores or flour fights."
The idea makes my stomach flip with nervous excitement. "I'd like that."
"Good." He squeezes my waist gently. "Then it's settled. We're doing this. All of us, together."
"Tomorrow," Silas says, his dark eyes warm behind his glasses. "Tomorrow we start fresh. No more hiding, no more uncertainty. Just us figuring this out together."
"Tomorrow," I agree, the word feeling like a promise.
"But tonight," Wyatt adds, his voice dropping lower, more intimate, "tonight you're staying in my room again. No more guest room, Amelia. You sleep with us now."
The possessiveness in his voice should scare me. Instead, it makes something warm unfurl in my chest, something that feels dangerously like safety. Like belonging.
I nod, not trusting my voice, and let him guide me back toward the living room where the kids are waiting. Hunter walks beside us, his presence a solid comfort. Silas follows, his hand briefly touching my shoulder in that way he has of grounding me.
As we settle back with the kids, Isaac immediately crawling into my lap and Riley leaning against my side, I let myself feel it. The weight of their trust, the warmth of the Alphas watching us, the possibility of something real and lasting spreading out before me like a path I'm finally brave enough to walk.
It's not a guarantee. It's not a promise that everything will be perfect. The fear is still there, coiled in my chest, waiting to remind me of all the ways this could go wrong.
But maybe, just maybe, it's enough to start with.
One day at a time.
Silas
The kitchen is warm with the smell of whatever Amelia made for dinner tonight, something with garlic and herbs that lingered long after we finished eating. She was supposed to go to her brother’s but they ended up coming over here, the chaos of having a full house really starting to settle in my bones.Just like old times.
Now that the house is quiet again, Dylan and Maddox gone, I'm sitting at the table with my laptop, pretending to work onreports that are due next week, but mostly I'm just listening to the sounds coming from the living room.
Amelia's voice carries through the open doorway, animated and bright as she tells Isaac some elaborate story about a princess and a dragon. Riley interjects periodically with corrections or additions, her input making Amelia laugh in that genuine way that still catches me off guard every time I hear it. Isaac's giggles punctuate the narrative, pure and unselfconscious in the way only a four-year-old can manage.
I can catch her scent from here. Rose petals and something sweeter, warmer than usual. The blockers are definitely failing, her pre-heat progressing faster than any of us expected. It makes my Alpha instincts sit up and take notice, makes me want to go to her, to make sure she's comfortable, cared for. Protected.
It's been like this for days now, this gradual opening of spaces I'd closed off after we lost Evie. I find myself in the kitchen when Amelia's in the living room instead of hiding in my study. I come home earlier from the base, making excuses about completed work or meetings that got canceled, when the truth is I just want to be here. Want to hear the laughter filling the house again, want to see Riley coming out of her shell bit by bit, want to watch Amelia move through our space like she belongs here.
Because she does belong here. I've known it since that morning in the kitchen when I kissed her, when Wyatt was holding her and I couldn't stay away anymore. Known it even before that, if I'm being honest with myself. From the first flour fight, from the first time I saw her with the kids, from the moment she started talking to Evie's photographs like my wife was still here to hear her.
She honors Evie's memory without trying to erase it. She makes space for our grief while also bringing joy back into our lives. It's a balance I didn't think was possible, but Amelia manages it with a grace that makes my chest ache.
