They’re alphas. Possessive, high-handed, ridiculously attractive alphas who I barely know. But they don't deserve to wake up thinking I was kidnapped or that I fell off their stupid, penthouse balcony.
They deserve... something. An explanation. Even if it's a brief one.
My gaze lands on the sleek, minimalist desk near the door. On it, there is a single, elegant notepad and a heavy, expensive-looking fountain pen. Of course.
I move to the desk, my hand trembling slightly as I pick up the pen. What do you even write to four alphas you accidentally bonded with?
I take a deep, shuddering breath and start to write, my handwriting a messy, frantic scrawl.
To the Sterling Pack,
No, too formal. I crumple the paper and start again.
Rett,
I know what happened. I see the marks. This was a mistake. A huge, catastrophic, champagne-fueled mistake. I'm a beta. You know what that means. Whatever this is, it can’t happen.
Please, don’t come after me.
Zoe
I fold the note, my fingers clumsy, and leave it propped against the pen holder on the desk where they will be sure to find it.
There. It's done. I've saidmy piece.
I reach for the door handle, and that’s when I realize I have a new problem. The front door has an electronic lock. The kind with a keypad that requires a code. Or worse, fingerprint recognition.
“Fuck,” I whisper, staring at the gleaming metal panel next to the door.
I glance back at the bedroom doorway. Still no movement.
Of course. Trapped in a penthouse with a sleeping pack, and my escape is being foiled by a door that’s too smart for its own good.
Just as I’m contemplating whether jumping from the balcony would be survivable (it wouldn’t), I notice a small button beneath the keypad. An exit button?
I press it, and the lock clicks open with a soft beep that sounds like a foghorn to my panicked ears.
I freeze again, waiting for the thunder of alpha feet, but nothing happens. Slowly, carefully, I turn the handle and open the door just enough to slip through.
The hallway is empty—thank every deity that might exist. I close the door as quietly as possible behind me, then realize I should have checked whether it would lock automatically. Too late now. If they wake up and track me down because I left their multimillion-dollar penthouse unsecured, that’s just one more thing we’ll have to discuss during our inevitable “so about those claiming marks” conversation.
I press the elevator button, doing the pee dance even though my bladder is bone dry. My body is a live wire of pure adrenaline. The numbers above the elevator tick down with agonizing slowness as something shifts in the air behind me. A subtle change in pressure, a hint of scent. Cedarwood.
I whip around, expecting to see Rett Sterling standing in the hallway, but there’s no one behind me. It’s just my imagination. Or worse, my newly claimed body playing tricks on me, already attuned to the presence of my... alphas.
The elevator dings, and I practically dive inside, jabbing thelobby button repeatedly until the doors close. Only then do I allow myself to collapse against the wall, my legs finally giving out.
In the mirrored walls of the elevator, I catch sight of myself. My hair is a tangled mess, my makeup smudged beneath my eyes. My dress hangs askew, and the claiming marks stand out like beacons against my skin.
I tug at the neckline of my dress, trying to cover them, but it’s no use. They’re too numerous, too strategically placed. I’d need a turtleneck sweater or a scarf to hide them all.
The elevator descends smoothly, floor numbers ticking down. Forty-eight. Forty-seven. Forty-six. How high up were we? Forty-five. Forty-four...
With each floor, I try to piece together what happened last night. The charity gala for the arts. I was there representing the gallery I work for. I’d been at the top of my game. Art is kind of my thing. But I also remember the sound of champagne fizzing. Tristan’s low laughter. The brush of Rett’s knuckles against the small of my back as he guided me through the crowd. The scent of cardamom as Diego leaned in close. Dane’s intense blue eyes. The heat of four bodies surrounding me.
It wasn’t just attention. They made me feel magnetic, like I was the center of something bigger than myself. For one night, I wasn’t just a beta. I was part of their world.
And I leaned into that gravity, didn’t I?
