So I did. While I touched her, while I brought her back to the edge again and again, I talked. Told her about before the Harper’s—the mother who had a one night stand and ended up with me… who didn't care. About being taken in by David, after finding out I existed, when I was eight, angry and broken, convinced I was unlovable. About Mason's steady patience, Ethan's quiet acceptance, Caleb's wordless understanding.
"They saved me," I admitted, my fingers working her with devastating precision, watching her body bow with pleasure even as she fought to listen to my words. "I was headed somewhere dark before I found them. They gave me a purpose.Something to belong to. Then there was you, this fierce little girl who wasn't afraid of any of us. Who looked at Caleb's scars and asked if they hurt instead of flinching away. Who argued with Ethan about books and beat Mason at chess and made me laugh until I couldn't breathe."
"Leo," Ava gasped, her fingers twisted in the sheets, her body trembling on the edge of release.
"You were ours before you even knew it," I continued, slowing my movements, keeping her suspended. "We just had to wait for you to grow up. Then you ran, and we waited some more. And now you're here, and I'm tired of waiting, Ava. I'm tired of watching you fight something that was always meant to be."
"I can't just give in," Ava whimpered. "You won't let me think. You keep— Oh god, Leo, please?—"
"You can," I insisted, my thumb pressing just right, making her cry out. "You can choose right now. Tell me you need us. Tell me you want us. And I'll give you everything you're begging for." She was crying again, but different tears this time—frustration and need and something that looked almost like surrender. Her body was shaking, her skin flushed, every muscle taut with denied release.
"I need—" Ava started, then stopped, her jaw clenching.
"Say it," I encouraged softly, my free hand stroking her hair. "It's okay to need us, Ava. It doesn't make you weak. It makes you pack. It makes you home."
"I need—" She squeezed her eyes shut, tears streaming down her temples. "I need my Alphas. Please. I need you." The words hit me like a physical blow. Three years of waiting. Weeks of resistance. And finally, finally, she'd said it. A deep purr rumbled up from my chest, satisfaction and affection and triumph all rolled into one. I'd never made that sound before, not with anyone. But she pulled it out of me without even trying.
"Good girl," I murmured, and let her fall. She shattered against my hand, keening so loud it echoed off the walls, her body arching and trembling through waves of release I'd been denying her for hours. I held her through it, my purr a steady rumble against her back, my lips pressing kisses to her shoulder, her neck, her tear-stained cheek.
"That's it," I whispered as she came down, her body going limp against me. "That's my good girl. You did so well. So beautiful. So perfect. Just like I always knew you'd be."
Ava was crying still, but quietly now, her face buried against my chest. I gathered her closer, wrapping myself around her, letting her feel the warmth and safety of my body.
"Why does it feel like that?" Ava asked eventually, her voice hoarse. "Why does giving in feel better than fighting?"
"Because you were never meant to fight us," I replied honestly, my hand stroking up and down her spine. "You were meant to be ours. Your body knows it even when your mind doesn't. It's known since you were fifteen and presented and looked at us with those terrified green eyes. We've been yours since that moment, Ava. We've just been waiting for you to claim us back."
"It feels like weakness," Ava whispered.
"It's not," I promised. "The strongest thing you can do is admit what you need and let yourself have it. That takes more courage than fighting ever did. And you've always been brave, Red. Even when you were a kid. Bravest person I ever met."
She was quiet for a long moment, her breathing slowly evening out. I thought she might be falling asleep, wrung out from hours of torment and the intensity of her release.
Then, so quietly I almost didn't hear it: "Leo?"
"Yeah, Red?"
"I want to read your poetry. When this is over. I really do." Something cracked open in my chest. Something I'd kept lockedaway for years, protected behind layers of charm and deflection and carefully cultivated carelessness.
"Okay," I said, my voice rougher than I'd intended. "When this is over. I'll show you everything."
She nodded against my chest, her body relaxing further, her breathing deepening toward sleep. I held her as she drifted off, my purr a continuous rumble of contentment, my heart doing things I didn't know how to name. This wasn't how the lesson was supposed to go. I was supposed to break her down, make her beg, strip away her resistance through pleasure denied and release controlled.
Instead, we'd found each other again. The girl I'd watched grow up and the man I'd hidden beneath the jokes and the charm. I pressed a kiss to her hair, breathing in her scent—sweetness and need and something underneath that was just her. Just Ava. Just the woman we'd waited our whole lives for.
"Welcome home, Red," I whispered into the darkness. "We missed you."
She sighed in her sleep, pressing closer, and I could have sworn I felt her almost purr.
Almost. We'd get there. We had time.
All the time in the world.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
AVA
I woke on fire. Not the slow simmer of the past few days, the building heat that had been torturous but manageable. This was an inferno. Every nerve ending screamed, every inch of skin burned, and the emptiness inside me had become a living thing, clawing at my insides, demanding to be filled.
