“Our place,” Cole clarifies, stepping forward. “We thought—we hoped?—”
“We want you to come home with us, Sierra,” Malik finishes. His vanilla ice-cream scent spikes with something that smells like nervousness, which is startling. I’ve never seen Malik nervous. “If you want to.”
Jalen moves closer too, and now they’re surrounding me in the parking lot. Like they’re creating a bubble around us even in this public space.
“If I want to,” I echo, trying to process what they’re saying. “You want me to just... come home with you? After everything?”
“Especially after everything,” Dax says, his voice rough with emotion. “Sierra, we can’t just—we’re not ready to let you go. Not yet. Maybe not ever.”
My breath hitches.
“We want you,” Jalen says softly, and the sincerity in his voice makes my eyes sting. “We want you to be our omega. Our pack omega. Not just for a week, not just because of heat. We wantyou.”
“This week wasn’t just biology for us,” Cole adds. “It was... fuck, Sierra, it was everything. You’re everything.”
I look between them, seeing the hope and fear warring on each face. They’re bracing for rejection, I realize. Expecting me to say this is too fast, too much, too complicated.
But my heart is swelling so much it feels like it might burst.
“I don’t understand,” I manage. “A week ago, you were my biggest competitors. You’ve made my professional life difficult for two years. Why would you want?—”
“Because we were idiots,” Malik interrupts. “We saw you as competition when we should have seen you as... as the missing piece we didn’t know we needed.”
“We’re in love with you, Sierra,” Jalen says, and the simplehonesty of it makes a tear slip down my cheek. “I’ve been falling for you for two years, and this week just... it made everything clear. Made me realize I don’t want to go back to just watching you from across event halls. I want to come home to you. Build a life with you. Be your pack.”
“We all do,” Dax adds gruffly. “Even if we’re shit at showing it. Even if we fucked up royally before this. We want to be better. For you. With you.”
Cole takes my hand gently. “I know it’s fast. I know we barely know your favorite color or what you like for breakfast or whether you’re a morning person?—”
“I’m not,” I interrupt, and it comes out watery with unshed tears. “I’m very much not a morning person.”
He grins, that brilliant Cole grin that lights up his whole face. “See? Already learning. We’ll figure out the rest. We’ll take it as slow as you need. But please, Sierra. Come home with us. Let us try to make this work.”
I should be practical. Should point out all the very real obstacles. We work in the same industry. We’re still technically competitors. Clients might talk. There are logistics to figure out. My apartment, my business, my entire life is here.
But looking at their faces, seeing the hope and love and desperate want in their expressions…
None of that matters.
Not really.
“My stuff,” I hear myself say, gesturing weakly toward my building.
“We’ll get it tomorrow,” Cole promises immediately. “Or this weekend. Or whenever. We’ll help you move everything, or you can keep this place if you want your own space. Whatever you need. But right now...”
“Right now, just come home,” Dax finishes. His hand comes up to cup my face, thumb brushing away the tears that are now falling freely. “Let us take care of you. Let us show you what this could be.”
I look at them. Four alphas who wrecked me in the best possible way for a week. Four alphas who I think I might love.
I also look at my apartment building. My office window on the third floor. The business I built from scratch while they were actively trying to bury me.
The fog of the heat lifts just enough for the cold, sharp edge of reality to slice through.
I step back.
Dax’s hand falls from my face. The loss of contact is physical pain, but I force myself to stand my ground.
“I can’t,” I whisper.
