Bayleigh
I wake to their scents,wrapped around me like a blanket—warm, familiar, unmistakably them. Sandalwood first, deep and steady. Citrus next, bright and alive. Honeydew lingering beneath it all, soft and reassuring. But threaded through those known comforts is something new.
Something charged.
Anticipation and joy, threaded tight with nerves.
My eyes flutter open slowly, lashes heavy, body still sunk deep into the mattress. The room is dim, morning light filtering through the curtains. For a moment, I just breathe. Letting the scents settle into me and the warmth of the nest ground me.
I push myself up onto my elbows, heart thudding in my chest, and look toward the door, where all three of my alphas are standing. Each of them looking at me in a way that tells me they know something I don’t.
Milton is closest, hands clasped together like he doesn’t quite trust himself to use them yet. His eyes are bright—too bright. Shining with something that looks dangerously close to tears. Lincoln stands just behind him, posture straight but tight, like he’s the backbone of our group, holding firm and steady whenwe can’t. Korbin is off to the side, arms crossed, jaw locked, his entire body wound taut like a coiled wire.
They’re all staring at me. I’m instantly on edge, fearful of what they’re going to say. Are they regretting bonding with me? Is this the dreaded morning after? Being rejected before bonding is one thing. But after? There’s no way I could survive that. Not three times.
My pulse kicks into hyperdrive, and I can feel my breathing becoming jumpy, but I manage to say the words. They need to hear my voice if they plan to reject me.
“What’s wrong?”
Milton moves first.
He steps forward, signing my name, hands trembling just enough that I notice. Then, without waiting—without asking—he sits beside me on the nest and pulls me into him. His arms wrap tight around my shoulders, his forehead pressing against mine like he needs the contact to stay upright.
I freeze. Not because I don’t want his touch, but because it doesn’t match at all with what I’m expecting them to do.
The scents in the room spike, swirling faster, thicker. Emotion crashes into me through every sense, and my heart starts pounding like it’s trying to outrun the moment.
Lincoln’s hand cups the back of my neck, fingers spreading there with practiced certainty. It’s grounding, steady, like he’s anchoring both of us at once. But where did he come from? When did he move from where he was standing?
Korbin hasn’t touched me yet—but I can feel him. He’s moved closer, standing in front of me. His eyes are locked on my face, burning with something he’s clearly holding back.
The knots in my stomach twist tighter. I pull from their hold, scooting back on the nest so that they’re not right in my bubble.
Bayleigh.Lincoln signs, not even moving his lips.
I shake my head, forcing the tears away. I will not cry in front of them.
“No. Talk to me,” I demand, my voice hoarse from just waking.
Milton reaches out, touching my arm, making sure that I’m looking at him and can see his mouth clearly. He takes a breath. Then another.
“It’s nothing bad,” he says, while signing the words. Most of it is right, just some small errors. I can see Lincoln out of the corner of my eye, signing correctly, but smiling at how Milton’s doing.
I let out a sigh. Maybe it’s not regret then. I’m just overreacting. But what has them all looking like something has happened?
“We were traded, Bayleigh. Both of us.”
The world drops out from under me.
The words echo in my skull, hollow and sharp. Traded. My brain fills in the gaps instantly—distance, separation, loss. The months of tension, the uncertainty, the waiting. My chest tightens so fast it steals my breath. This is big, but there has to be a way we can make it work. Hopefully, their teams are close together. It has to be what has them uneasy. But they were working hard to be traded to the same team. What happened?
My head is spinning, and I start to feel dizzy. I’ve bonded with my pack—everything should be amazing now. Not this. Not having them ripped from me.
Lincoln shifts on the nest, moving closer to me, and slips his strong arms around my waist. Korbin steps forward, lowering down on the nest in front of me, his hand grasping my chin, lifting it gently so I can see him.
“Bayleigh,” he says slowly, deliberately. “What Milton should have led with is that we’ve both been traded to the same team. The Krakens.”
It takes a second for what he said to register.
