I flinched. My hand went to my own neck, rubbing the phantom ache. "We wanted to. God, Z, I wanted to bite you so bad my teeth hurt."
"But you didn't," she said. "Because I asked for lucidity."
"Promise holds," Euan said simply. "Even under duress."
She nodded slowly. She looked at the three of us.
"You kept the promise," she whispered. "You proved the thesis."
"Which thesis?" Kit asked.
"That credit is care," she said. "You credited me with agency. Even when I was out of my mind."
She stood up. The chair scraped against the floor.
She walked around the table. She stopped behind me first. She wrapped her arms around my neck from behind, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of my head.
"Alfie," she murmured. "You gave me the noise."
She moved to Euan. She touched his shoulder, her fingers digging into the muscle.
"Euan. You gave me the structure."
She moved to Kit. She sat on his lap, leaning back against his chest as he instinctively wrapped his arms around her.
"Kit. You gave me the ground."
She looked at us from the safety of Kit’s arms.
"I'm not leaving," she said. "I signed the papers. I put the Exit Card in the drawer. It stays in the drawer."
I felt a grin splitting my face, wide and aching.
"The Claim," she said.
The room stopped breathing.
"You want... to claim us?" Kit rumbled, his voice vibrating through her.
"No," she said. "I want you to claimme."
My heart hammered a frantic drum solo against my ribs. "Zia?"
"I want the marks," she said, her voice steady. "I want the bite. I want it done properly. Not in a heat haze. Not because biology forced your hand."
She stood up from Kit’s lap. She walked to the center of the kitchen. She pulled the collar of the hoodie down, exposing the smooth, pale skin of her neck, right over the scent gland.
"I want to choose it," she said. "Lucid. Awake. Coffee in my system."
She looked at me. Then Euan. Then Kit.
"I want all of you. I want the triple mark. I want to look in the mirror and see the map of this pack on my skin."
I stood up. The chair fell over behind me. I didn't care.
"Are you sure?" I asked, my voice trembling. "Fox, that’s... that’s permanent. That’s forever."
"I know," she said. She smiled, and it was terrifying and beautiful. "Review the tape, Alfie. I don't do demo tracks. I only print the final mix."
