“Not another superhero movie,” Diego groans, sprawling dramatically across the couch. “We watched one last week.”
“That was a completely different franchise,” Tristan argues. “This one has aliens.”
“They all have aliens,” Rett points out, not looking up from his tablet.
“Fine.” Tristan shrugs. “What about that new spy thriller? The one with the car chases?”
“The one where the female lead spends half the movie in a bikini for no reason?” I ask dryly.
Tristan has the grace to look sheepish. “I hadn’t noticed that part.”
“Sure, you hadn’t,” Diego says, throwing a piece of popcorn at him.
I’m only half-listening to their bickering, my attention on the heavy, glossy art book in my lap. It’s a rare volume on Renaissance sculpture, one I’d only ever dreamed of owning. One that appeared, without comment, on my nightstand two days ago.
I feel a gaze on me and look up. Rett is watching me.
“Good book?” he asks, his voice a low murmur that cuts through his brothers’ argument.
My cheeks warm, and I look down at the pages. “It’s... perfect,” I say, my voice soft. “Thank you.”
“I know how much you appreciate the classics,” he says simply.
I don’t know what to say to that, so I just offer him a small, sincere smile. He nods once, a slow, satisfied gesture, before turning his attention back to the movie debate.
Eventually, they settle on a film. The lights dim, the movie starts, and we all settle in.
I don’t absorb much of the plot. My mind is too busy.
I glance around the room, at these alphas who have upended my life in the most unexpected ways. Diego is engrossed in the movie, absentmindedly offering me a piece of chocolate. Tristan is making running commentary under his breath, making Dane roll his eyes. Rett’s attention is split between the screen and me, his gaze occasionally flicking to my face, checking my reaction.
And I realize, with a clarity that’s both terrifying and exhilarating, that I’m no longer just attracted to them. I’m no longer just enjoying their company or appreciating their attention.
I’m…falling in love with them.
The revelation should frighten me. Four alphas. A pack bond that failed once already. The complications, the potential for heartbreak.
Instead, I feel a strange sense of peace. As if some part of me has known this was inevitable from the start.
I settle deeper into the couch, into the warmth of Dane beside me, into the comfort of having the others nearby. For now, this is enough. This quiet evening, this easy togetherness.
Tomorrow, I’ll figure out what to do with these feelings that are growing stronger by the day. Tomorrow, I’ll worry about what it means to be falling in love with not one man, but four.
Tonight, I’ll just enjoy the warmth.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Zoe
The sound of glass shattering jolts me awake.
I sit bolt upright in bed, my heart racing as I try to orient myself in the darkness. It’s the middle of the night. The glowing numbers on my bedside clock read 3:15 AM. The penthouse should be silent at this hour.
I listen, straining to hear anything beyond the pounding of my own heart. There it is. A faint groan, followed by a muffled curse. Someone’s in the kitchen.
My first instinct is to burrow deeper under the covers and pretend I didn’t hear anything. It’s probably just one of the alphas getting a midnight snack, knocking something over in the dark.
But that groan didn’t sound like someone annoyed at their own clumsiness. It sounded like pain.
