"No." I set down the whisk, wiping my hands on the towel. "But if it's your parents again, Dorian, I'm not hiding this time."
"It's not them." Corvus's voice is tight. "It's a Honda Civic. And unless I'm mistaken, that's Stephanie in the driver's seat."
My stomach drops. "What?"
"And Robbie's with her." He turns from the window, expression calculating. "They're sitting there. Like they're working up courage."
Oh no. Ohno.
I move to the window. Sure enough, there's Stephanie's car idling in the driveway. Through the windshield, I watch her and Robbie having what looks like an intense conversation. Stephanie's hands are moving frantically. Robbie keeps pointing at the house.
"What are they doing here?" Dorian's voice has gone cold, dangerous. "How did they even find us?"
"You're not exactly subtle with your digital footprint," Corvus mutters. "If I had to guess, they tracked property records or hacked—"
The car doors open.
Stephanie gets out first, and even from here I see she's terrified. Her hands are shaking. But she's forcing herself forward, shoulders back like she's heading into battle.
Robbie follows, and the look on his face is pure protective fury.
"They think they're rescuing me," I say aloud.
"What?" All three Alphas say it in unison.
"They think I'm still being held captive. They're here to—oh my god, they're going to try to rescue me."
"Over my dead body," Dorian snarls, already moving toward the door.
I grab his arm. "Stop. Everyone stop." I turn to face all three of them, and the dynamic shift of the last few weeks means they actually listen. "You're going to let them in. You're going to be civil. And you're going to let me handle this."
"Vespera—" Oakley starts.
"Did I stutter?"
He subsides, and I catch Corvus hiding a smirk.
The doorbell rings. Then rings again. Then someone starts pounding.
"VESPERA!" Robbie's voice carries through the door. "VESPERA, IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, WE'RE HERE! YOU'RE SAFE NOW!"
I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Oakley, turn off the stove before the house burns down. Corvus, put away whatever weapons you're mentally cataloging. Dorian..." I look at him. "Try not to kill anyone."
"No promises," he mutters, but he steps back.
I open the door.
Stephanie and Robbie both jump, clearly not expecting it to open so easily. They're standing there looking like amateur kidnappers themselves—Stephanie holding her phone like a weapon, Robbie with a tire iron in one hand.
"Oh thank god," Stephanie breathes. "Vespera, we're here, we're going to get you out of—"
She stops. Stares. Takes in what I'm wearing: Dorian's oversized button-down, bare legs, messy hair, clearly rolled out of bed.
"Hi," I say casually. "Want some coffee?"
"We called the police," Robbie blurts out. "They'll be here in twenty minutes. We needed to stall until—" He stops too, looking past me into the house.
I imagine what he sees. Oakley at the stove, wearing sleep pants and nothing else, comfortable in the space. Corvus at the table with his tablet and coffee, looking completely at ease. Dorian close behind me, protective but not threatening, clearly deferring to my lead.
