My brain finally caught up with my body's eagerness, screaming warnings that I should absolutely not go through that gate. That staying on this side of the fence was the only rational choice.
"I'm not going out there," I announced firmly to the dogs, digging my heels into the grass. "I'm not that desperate to see them again. I have standards. Self-respect. Dignity."
All lies, apparently, because my hand was already reaching for the latch, fingers closing around the metal even as my mind continued its futile protests.
"This is such a bad idea," I muttered, pushing the gate open and stepping through like I was sleepwalking. "Future Leo is going to be so pissed at Current Leo for this lack of judgment."
The dogs bounded ahead down the forest path, clearly familiar with our destination. I should have been cataloging escape routes or preparing cutting remarks, but instead, my senses were straining forward, seeking something I'd spent months trying to convince myself I didn't miss.
When the forest opened into a clearing, I froze in place, my breath catching in my throat.
This wasn't some hastily assembled campsite. This was… luxury. An elaborate "glamping" setup with a massive canvas tent on a wooden platform, outdoor furniture that looked like it belonged in a high-end catalog, a professional-grade cooking station under an elegant canopy, and a stone-lined fire pit surrounded by comfortable chairs.
And there they were—the three men who'd been haunting my dreams for six long months.
Stefano sat reading an actual leather-bound book, looking like some nineteenth-century aristocrat on holiday. Marco was preparing what smelled like gourmet coffee with ritualistic precision. Matteo was methodically cleaning weapons, his hands moving with the same efficiency I remembered from the forest.
None of them looked surprised to see me. In fact, they looked like they'd been waiting.
"What the actual fuck is this?" I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest as I became painfully aware of my revealing sleep clothes. "Did the forest service start offering luxury glamping permits for alphas with stalking fixations? Is this some kind of 'pitch a tent, get a free omega' promotion I wasn't informed about?"
Stefano looked up from his book, those cobalt eyes finding mine with laser precision. His mouth curved into a smile thatsent unwelcome heat spiraling through parts of me that had no business responding to just a look.
"Good morning, little prince," he said, the deep voice rolling over me like thunder. "Sleep well?"
Little prince. Not wildcat anymore. Something new that made my stomach flip and my knees weaken.
"I was sleeping perfectly well until your furry alarm system started performing outside my window," I shot back, trying to sound annoyed rather than breathless. "What are you doing here? This is taking stalking to Olympic levels, and trust me, the Russian judges are definitely deducting points for technical execution."
Marco looked up from his coffee preparation, his dark eyes traveling over me with deliberate slowness that made me acutely aware of my bare legs and exposed shoulder.
"We missed you, little prince," he said, his voice carrying that playful edge that had featured in too many of my private fantasies. "Six months is a long time without seeing those fire-bright eyes and hearing that sharp tongue."
"I didn't miss you," I lied, resisting the urge to tug my shirt down over my thighs. "I was doing spectacularly well in my alpha-free existence. Thriving, even. Writing memoirs. Learning macramé. Developing healthy coping mechanisms that don't involve being manhandled by alphas with god complexes."
Matteo's amber eyes flicked up from his work, studying me with that unnerving intensity that always made me feel completely exposed. "You've lost weight," he stated flatly. "Not sleeping properly either. Dark circles under your eyes."
The clinical accuracy of his assessment hit a nerve. Of course he'd notice every change in my appearance within seconds. Probably mentally cataloging everything from my sleep-rumpled hair to the way my pulse was visibly hammering in my throat.
"Thanks for the unsolicited health evaluation," I said, crossing my arms tighter over my chest. "I'll be sure to include it in my daily journal entry titled 'Observations from Alphas Who Don't Understand Personal Boundaries.'"
"We're not invading your boundaries," Stefano said, setting his book aside and rising to his feet with that fluid grace that always made something in my chest tighten. "We're camping. On public forest land. Nothing illegal about that."
He moved toward me with the slow, deliberate pace of a predator who knew their prey had nowhere to run. Each step closed the distance between us, setting off fireworks in my nervous system that my body seemed determined to interpret as excitement rather than warning signals.
"Public forest land that just happens to border my property," I said, hating how my voice had gone slightly breathless. "What an amazing coincidence. Did you use a Ouija board to select your camping spot, or was it more of a dartboard situation while chanting my name?"
He stopped directly in front of me, close enough that I had to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. The morning sunlight caught in his cobalt eyes, making them burn with an intensity that made my mouth go dry.
"We wanted to check on you," he said, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face with casual intimacy.
I jerked away from his touch, taking a step back that brought me up against a tree trunk. "I'm not your responsibility," I said, even as my skin burned where his fingers had touched me. "I don't need alpha babysitters checking on my welfare. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."
His smile was slow and knowing, like he could hear my heart trying to hammer its way out of my chest. "Are you?" he asked softly, closing the distance I'd created until he was standingdirectly in front of me again. "You walked through that gate, Leo. You came to us."
"I came to tell you to leave," I corrected, pressing back against the tree as he moved closer. "To take your designer camping equipment and your pretentious coffee setup and your ridiculously well-behaved dogs and go back to whatever alpha mansion you crawled out of."
"Did you?" His hand came up, bracing against the tree beside my head, effectively caging me in. "Is that really why you're here, looking deliciously rumpled and half-dressed? To tell us to leave?"
