"Thank you," I said.
He just squeezed my shoulder.
I looked at them. Euan, lost in his code but keeping a foot touching my ankle under the table. Alfie, watching me eat with that unnerving, golden retriever energy and devotion. Kit, solid and warm beside me.
The panic flared again. The old instinct.It’s too much. It’s a trap.
I put the fork down.
"Two constraints," I blurted out.
The silence hit instantly. Alfie caught a grape and held it. Euan stopped typing. Kit went still.
"Constraints?" Euan asked, pivoting to face me.
"Project parameters," I said, feeling the flush rise in my cheeks. "If we're doing this. If we're... building."
"We're listening," Kit said.
"One," I said, gripping the edge of the table. "I'm not determining a hierarchy. I'm not picking a 'primary' Alpha. The industry wants me to belong to one of you. They want a couple name."
"Gross," Alfie muttered.
"Exactly. So, no favorites. No competition. If I feel you competing for rank, I walk."
"Agreed," Euan said immediately. "Collaboration over competition. It is the most efficient model."
"Sorted," Kit nodded.
"Two," I said, locking eyes with Alfie. "I want all three of you. I don't just mean in the nest. I mean... I want the pack. Not a pair. Not a rotation of dates. I want the unit."
I took a breath.
"If we do this, we do it as a block. We move together. We sleep together. And when we figure out the... the other stuff..." I waved my hand vaguely, indicating the sex, the claiming, the future. "We figure it out as a four."
Alfie’s face broke into a slow, radiant smile. "You want the whole set?"
"I want the full spectrum," I corrected.
"Copy that," Alfie whispered. "You're our center, fox. We just orbit."
"Confirmed," Euan said, finally closing his laptop. "The geometry holds."
"Right," Kit said, picking up my fork and stabbing a piece of egg. "Eat your protein. We’ve got a schedule to build."
He held the fork to my mouth. I ate it.
Later that night, we built the first true pack sleep.
Not a crisis response. Not a heat-induced crash. A choice.
We stripped the back bunk. We pulled the mattresses from the other bunks onto the floor of the rear lounge, creating amassive, soft island. Cal watched from the doorway, sipping his tea, looking like a proud uncle.
"Don't stay up too late," Cal warned. "We have an early drive."
"Goodnight, Cal," we chorused.
We settled in. It took some maneuvering. Elbows, knees, finding the rhythm.
