We settle into Tank's living room with paper plates and napkins, sprawled across furniture and floor cushions. The earlier chaos fades into a comfortable warmth, helped along by the Valentine's Day candy Tank apparently picked up at the store earlier. Bags of conversation hearts and heart-shaped chocolates are scattered across the coffee table like festive ammunition.
"You bought heart-shaped chocolates?" Elias examines a pink foil-wrapped piece with unconcealed amusement, holding it up to the light. "Tank. Big scary military Tank. That's adorable. Absolutely precious."
"They were on sale," Tank grunts, not looking up from his slice of pepperoni. "Seventy percent off. Practical purchase."
"Mmmhmm." Elias unwraps the chocolate and pops it in his mouth with a knowing grin. "Very practical. Veryromantic. Did you get the ones with the little messages inside too?"
Tank throws a conversation heart at his head with sniper precision. It bounces off Elias's forehead with a satisfyingthwackand lands in Julian's lap, who picks it up with two fingers and reads the message stamped on it.
"'Be Mine.'" Julian's voice is flat as a board. "How devastatingly original."
"Eat it or I will," Tank warns darkly.
Julian eats it, looking deeply inconvenienced by the requirement.
This is ridiculous. This is absurd. Three grown Alpha men arguing over heart-shaped candy and throwing conversation hearts at each other like children. And somehow, impossibly, it's exactly what I needed.
We cycle through several board games as the evening progresses. Monopoly gets abandoned after Julian threatens to flip the board when he lands on Tank’s property for the third time. Scrabble lasts longer, but devolves into an argument about whether "Yeet" is a real word. Uno nearly causes a genuine fistfight.
"This is supposed to be a non-competitive bonding night," Elias says, separating Tank and Julian after the third Draw Four card in a row. "Can we please act like adults?"
"He cheated," Tank accuses.
"Prove it," Julian challenges.
"I will literally search your sleeves right now?—"
"Okay!" I interrupt before someone throws a punch. "New game. Truth or dare. No physical contact required."
The three of them exchange glances—suspicious, considering, eventually agreeable. We settle into a loose circle on the living room floor, pizza boxes pushed aside, candy scattered between us. Sasha has claimed the couch as his throne and watches us with the judgment only a dog can achieve.
The first few rounds are tame. Elias dares Tank to do an impression of Julian's scowl, which is surprisingly accurate and makes Julian look like he's considering murder. Tank makes Elias admit to his most embarrassing call as a firefighter, which involves a cat, a tree, and a ladder that broke at the worstpossible moment. Julian opts for truths exclusively, revealing nothing more scandalous than his preferred brand of wine.
Then it's my turn.
"Truth," I say, because dares with three Alphas seem like a dangerous path.
Elias considers for a moment. "What's something you've always wanted but never gotten?"
A loaded question. There are so many answers I could give—freedom, respect, a family who actually loved me. But my brain goes somewhere unexpected instead.
"Those viral bookshelf things," I hear myself say. "You know, the ones that wrap around the wall? Floor to ceiling, with the rolling ladder? I really wanted one when I first became an Omega."
The admission feels silly the moment it leaves my mouth, but I keep going.
"Maybe it was my way of wanting a nest of sorts. A space that was just mine, filled with things I chose, you know? A place to curl up and feel safe." I trace a pattern on the carpet with my finger, not quite meeting their eyes. "I actually started building a little reading space in the shed behind my ex-pack's house. Had some shelves set up, a few books, a cozy chair. It was tiny, but it wasmine."
"What happened to it?" Tank asks quietly, his voice softer than I've ever heard it.
"It burned down." The words come out matter-of-fact, almost casual—the way you talk about things that hurt too much to give proper weight. "My ex-pack burned the shed. I still haven't determined if it was intentional or an attempted murder thing, honestly. It happened at night while I was sleeping in the main house—woke up to the glow through my window, thought it was the sunrise at first. Could have been an accident." I shrug, picking at the carpet fibers. "But probably wasn't. They neverliked that I had something that was just mine. Something they didn't control."
I realize I'm still talking, the words spilling out like they've been waiting for someone to hear them.
"I let it brush aside because I figured I could just build a new one, you know? Start over. But... I never did. There was always something else they needed, always something more important than my little nesting space. And then I ran, and by then it didn't matter anymore because I didn't have anywhere to put a bookshelf anyway."
Silence. Heavy, loaded silence.
I look up to find all three of them staring at me with expressions of barely contained horror. Tank's hands have clenched into fists so tight his knuckles have gone white. Elias's usual sunny demeanor has gone completely dark, like storm clouds rolling in. Julian's jaw is tight enough to crack, and there's something dangerous in his eyes that I've never seen before.
