Reid made a sound—low, rough, somewhere between a groan and a laugh—and then his hands were on my face, cupping mycheeks so gently it made my heart ache. His palms were warm, calloused, trembling slightly against my skin.
"Can I—" His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, his dark eyes searching hers. His thumbs brushed away the tears streaming down her cheeks, the touch achingly tender. "Is this okay?"
I nodded, not trusting my voice, and leaned into his touch. We stood there for a long moment, his hands on my face, my eyes closed, just breathing. Just being. The sun was coming up behind him, warming my back, and for the first time in nine years, I didn't feel like I was about to run.
"The others need to hear this from you." Reid's voice was soft, gentle, his thumbs still stroking over my cheekbones. His dark eyes were warm, bright with emotion, crinkling at the corners. "They've been going crazy these last three days. Kol's been driving everyone insane with his pacing."
I laughed, the sound wet and shaky, and pulled back just enough to look at him.
"Where are they?" My voice came out rough, unsteady, but there was something almost like eagerness underneath the nerves. My pale green eyes met his, a tentative smile tugging at the corner of my lips.
Reid's answering smile was like the sun coming out from behind clouds—warm and bright and full of a joy he wasn't trying to hide anymore.
"Probably pretending they're not watching from the windows." His voice was dry, amused, his dark eyes dancing with warmth. He jerked his head toward the main house, where I could see movement behind the curtains. "Want to go put them out of their misery?"
I nodded, and Reid's hand dropped from my face to catch my fingers, intertwining them gently with his own. The touchwas warm, grounding, and I let myself hold on instead of pulling away.
We walked up the porch steps together, and Reid pushed open the door. The main house was warm, smelling of coffee and bacon and something sweet baking in the oven. The living room was big, comfortable—worn leather couches, a stone fireplace, bookshelves stuffed with paperbacks and photo albums. It felt like a home. A real home.
The other three Alphas were there, trying very hard to look casual and failing miserably. Nolan was standing by the window, a coffee mug in his hands, his sandy blond hair catching the morning light. His green eyes were fixed on the door, filled with a hope he wasn't quite managing to hide.
Sawyer was leaning against the far wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his pale blue eyes watchful. He looked calm, but I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw was set.
Kol was pacing—actually pacing, wearing a track in the hardwood floor. His honey-blond hair was disheveled, like he'd been running his hands through it, and his amber eyes were bright with anxiety. He stopped mid-step when the door opened, his whole body going rigid.
Three Alphas. All of them looking at me like I held their hearts in my hands.
The thought was overwhelming. Terrifying. But underneath the fear, there was something else—something warm and bright that felt a lot like belonging.
"She said yes." Reid's voice was calm, steady, but I could hear the joy thrumming underneath it. His hand squeezed mine gently, his thumb stroking over my knuckles. His dark eyes swept over the other Alphas, watching their reactions.
For a moment, no one moved. No one breathed.
Then Kol let out a sound—a whoop, loud and joyful and completely undignified—and crossed the room in three longstrides. He stopped just short of touching me, his amber eyes bright, his whole body vibrating with barely contained energy.
"Really?" His voice came out breathless, hopeful, cracking on the word like a teenager's. His honey-blond hair fell across his forehead, his face alight with a smile so wide it looked almost painful. His hands twitched at his sides, clearly wanting to reach for me but holding back. "You're really saying yes? You want—you want to be part of this? Part of us?"
I nodded, my throat too tight to speak. Kol made another sound, a low whine, then he was looking at Reid, asking permission with his eyes. Reid nodded, and Kol turned back to me.
"Can I hug you?" His voice was softer now, gentler, all that restless energy focused into careful control. His amber eyes searched mine, bright with emotion. "Please? I've wanted to hug you since the day we met and I promise I'll be careful, I won't squeeze too hard, I just?—"
"Yes." The word came out of me before he finished, rough and cracking. "Yes, you can hug me."
Kol moved slowly, giving me time to change my mind, and then his arms were around me—warm, strong, careful. He held me like I was something precious, something breakable, and I felt the tension in his body, the way he was restraining himself from squeezing too tight. I leaned into him, breathing in his scent—orange blossoms and honey and something bright and warm—and felt something inside me crack open.
"Thank you." Kol's voice was muffled against my hair, rough with emotion, his arms still wrapped around me like he never wanted to let go. "Thank you for giving us a chance. Thank you for being brave enough to try."
Tears were streaming down my face again, but I didn't care. I held onto him, this golden Alpha who wore his heart on hissleeve, and let myself be held. When Kol finally pulled back, Nolan was there, his green eyes soft, his expression gentle.
"Is it alright if I—" He started, his voice that familiar quiet calm, his sandy blond hair falling across his forehead. He held out his hand, palm up, offering rather than taking.
I reached out and took it. Nolan's fingers closed around mine, warm and steady, and he pulled me gently into an embrace. His touch was different from Kol's—calmer, more grounded—but just as warm. Just as welcoming.
"I'm so glad you're staying." His voice was soft against my ear, barely above a whisper, carrying a weight of emotion he usually kept hidden. His hand rubbed slow circles on my back, soothing and gentle. "I'm so glad you're letting us try."
I nodded against his shoulder, not trusting my voice.
When Nolan released me, I turned to find Sawyer. He hadn't moved from his spot against the wall, his arms still crossed, his pale blue eyes still watchful. But there was something different in his expression now—something softer, warmer, almost vulnerable.
