The claiming marks on her throat might say otherwise, but those were made in a moment of mutual madness. Four alphas, driven by instinct and the promise of relief from the static. One beta, caught up in a whirlwind of sensation and champagne.
“Diego’s right,” I say, surprising myself with the steadiness in my voice. “We can’t stalk her home or her workplace.”
“So we just... what? Wait for her to come back?” Tristan asks incredulously. “Because I’m betting that’s not happening, Rett. You saw her face. She looked like she didn’t give a single shit about any of us. She just wanted out.”
“That’s not true,” Diego murmurs, shaking his head. “She was just... overwhelmed.”
“Right,” Tristan narrows his eyes. “The point is, she ran from us. Literally ran.Into traffic. To get away from us.”
“And chasing her will only make her run further,” Diego counters. “We need to give her space.”
I take a deep breath. “Yes. The only problem is the static…”
“We’ve lived with it for years,” Diego says. “We can handle it a little longer.”
The others exchange glances. They know as well as I do that it’s different now. The contrast between the blessed silence of this morning and the current cacophony makes it nearly unbearable. But what choice do we have?
“So we... wait?” Dane asks.
“No,” I say, my eyes falling on the teal planner. “We don’t wait. We... pivot.”
Three pairs of eyes stare at me as if I’ve just started speaking another language.
“Pivot?” Tristan repeats, letting out a short, incredulous laugh. “Dude, I’ve seen that episode. It ends with a couch cut in half. Let’s maybe aim for a better outcome than that.”
I meet his gaze. “There’s no other option. All we have left is... whatever the hell this is.” I gesture vaguely, encompassing the planner, us, and the general mess we’ve made. “She thinks we’re possessive brutes? So we prove her wrong. We show her there are…benefits to accepting our claim.”
“Benefits?” Tristan asks, a slow grin spreading across his face. “I can think of a few.”
“Not that,” I say, shooting him a look. “Not yet. I’m talking about making her life easier. More pleasant. We use what we have”—I nod toward the planner—“to show her that we pay attention.”
“So we’re... what? Buying her affection?” Diego raises a brow. I see the look of distaste as it crosses his face. “That’s the plan? Bribery?”
“We’re earning hertolerance,” I correct him. “Then her trust. Then... maybe we can get this damn noise to end. Permanently.”
It’s a raw, selfish goal. But we need her back. So the static stops. So this goddamn ache in my chest goes away.
Diego’s expression softens with a flicker of hope. “You mean... like courting?”
“I guess,” I say, running a hand through my hair. The static buzzes, making it hard to think straight. “I don’t know. We send her flowers. Or... muffins. The planner said she has to bring muffins to a meeting.”
Tristan breathes out a laugh. “Muffins. That’s the best we can do?”
“Do you have a better idea?” I snap, the alpha in me bristling at being mocked. “Because your ‘stalk the coffee shop across from her workplace’ plan was idiotic.”
“Hey! Don’t knock the brainstorming phase.” He grins. “You have to kiss a few restraining-order-adjacent frogs before you find your prince of a plan.”
Growling, I run a hand over my face. With effort, I try to restrain my alpha. It’s the static. The tension. Going at each other’s throats won’t miraculously fix the situation.
“Rett’s right,” Diego says softly, looking down at the planner. “This is not just some omega we can impress easily. This is... Zoe. She laughed at your jokes, Tris. She talked shop with me. She made Dane actually speak.”
The weight of what we’ve done settles over the room. We acted like barbaric alphas, and we got a predictable result: she ran.
“So what does this ‘pivoting’ entail, exactly?” Tristan asks, sobering. “Because my experience is limited to buying expensive drinks and hoping for the best.” He frowns. “How do you get a beta to actuallylikeyou?”
Fuck. I shrug as my eyes land on the planner, too. “We start there.”
A heavy beat of silence fills the room.
