"I'm coming into the nest. I'm asking permission, like I promised. Can I come in, Ava?" Mason announced, his voice gentle but firm, brooking no argument even as he made it a request.
I should have said no. Should have held onto my pride, my defiance, my tiny shred of autonomy. But my body was screaming for relief, and my mind was too foggy with pain to maintain the battle.
"Fine. Just—make it stop," I whispered, the word tearing out of me like a surrender, my eyes squeezing shut. Mason crossed the room in three quick strides and climbed into the nest with careful movements, settling himself against the headboard, his legs stretched out beside me. Then, with gentle hands, he gathered me into his arms.
The relief was immediate. Like a switch had been flipped, like a valve had been released—the pain just stopped. The headache faded to a dull background noise. The nausea settled. The tremors eased, my muscles finally unclenching.
"There. There you go. That's better, isn't it?" Mason murmured, pulling me closer against his chest, his warmth seeping into my frozen bones, his scent—honey and sunlight—wrapping around me like a blanket, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my back.
I wanted to deny it. I wanted to push him away, to reclaim my dignity, to prove that I was stronger than the bonds. But my body had other ideas.
I melted into him. Actually melted, my rigid muscles going soft, my clenched fists relaxing, my whole body curling into his warmth like a plant seeking sunlight. A sound escaped my throat—something between a sigh and a sob, and I pressed my face into his chest, breathing him in.
"I hate this. I hate that it works," I whispered against his shirt, my voice muffled by the fabric, my fingers curling into the soft material.
"I know. I know you do," Mason replied softly, his hand stroking my hair, his touch gentle and soothing, his chest vibrating with each word. "But fighting the bonds only hurts you, sweetheart. They're not going to break. They're not going to fade. All you can do is accept them."
"I don't want to accept them," I mumbled, my eyelids growing heavy, exhaustion pulling me under now that the pain had receded, my words starting to slur together.
"You don't have to want it. You just have to stop fighting it. Let us take care of you. Let us love you," Mason acknowledged, his arms tightening around me, his chin resting on top of my head, his embrace warm and secure.
"You don't love me. You just love owning me," I mumbled, my consciousness fading at the edges, sleep dragging me down.
"We love you. We've loved you for a long time. We love your fire, your stubbornness, your refusal to give up even when you've clearly lost. We love every part of you, Ava. Even the parts that hate us," Mason corrected gently, his voice firm with conviction, his hand still stroking through my hair in steady, rhythmic motions.
I didn't have the energy to argue. Didn't have the strength to push him away. I just lay there, curled against the chest of one of the men who had destroyed my life, and let him hold me. Through the bond, I felt his contentment. His love. His bone-deep satisfaction at finally having me in his arms.
I also felt the others, Caleb's relief washing over me like a wave, Leo's quiet joy humming through the connection, Ethan's clinical satisfaction that his prediction had proven correct.They'd won this round. My body had betrayed me, had forced me to accept their touch, had proven that I couldn't survive without them.
As I drifted toward sleep, held in Mason's arms, I made a silent vow. This wasn't over. This was just a battle, not the war. I would find a way to beat them. Find a way to break the bonds, or escape, or—something. I couldn't live like this forever, dependent on men I hated, addicted to touches that violated everything I believed in.
There had to be a way out.
I just had to find it. But for now—just for now—I let myself rest. Let myself take what my body needed, even as my mind raged against it.
"Sleep. I've got you," Mason murmured, his voice soft in the darkness, his arms secure around me, his heartbeat steady beneath my ear.
I slept…but I dreamed of running.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
LEO
She was so fucking stubborn.
I watched her from across the living room, pretending to read a book while she sat curled in the corner of the couch, as far from the rest of us as physically possible. Three days since Mason had held her through the bond-separation symptoms. Three days since her body had betrayed her and forced her to accept our touch.
She'd learned her lesson about avoiding contact entirely. Now she allowed the minimum—a hand on her shoulder at meals, sitting close enough that our knees might brush. Just enough to keep the symptoms at bay. She was still fighting. Still resisting. Still looking at us with those fierce green eyes like she was planning our murders.
God, I loved her.
"You're staring," Ethan said from beside me, not looking up from his tablet, his voice low enough that only I could hear, his green eyes fixed on whatever data held his attention.
"She's worth staring at," I replied, equally quiet, my gray eyes tracking every micro-expression that crossed her beautiful face.
"You're making her uncomfortable," Ethan observed, his tone clinical and matter-of-fact.
"Good," I said, a smile tugging at my lips. "Uncomfortable is better than numb."
