By the time he pulls back, I’m dizzy.
Three boys.
Three kisses.
One heart pounding so hard I’m amazed the floor hasn’t cracked open beneath us.
And somehow, I don’t feel split.
I feel chosen.
Anchored.
Loved.
The room keeps spinning from those kisses—kisses that should have left me overwhelmed, confused, maybe even conflicted. But everything inside me feels clear. Certain.
Then they speak.
Not all at once. Not in breathless declarations. Just steady, heartfelt truths delivered one by one—words that land harder than any kiss could.
Rowen’s fingers lace through mine, his thumb brushing lightly over my knuckles as he looks at me with so much warmth it threatens to undo me completely. “I’ve loved you longer than I can admit without sounding questionable,” he says with a crooked grin. “But honestly… I knew. Even when we were kids. The way you smiled right before you did something mischievous. The way you defended Ronan when he got detention for something I did.”
I laugh, because yes, every detail is etched in my memory.
He smiles back, but then his expression shifts into something more serious. “Do you know how hard it’s been?” he asks quietly. “Watching other guys flirt with you. Some of them friends. Some who knew better. Acting like you were just another pretty girl when they didn’t see you the way we do. The way I do.”
My breath catches in my throat.
“I wanted to step in,” he admits. “More times than I can count. But I didn’t want to scare you. You always looked uncomfortable—still polite, even when you wanted to disappear. I saw that, Berk. I felt it.” He squeezes my hand, gentle and sure. “And I hated pretending I didn’t care. Hated acting like you weren’t everything.”
Before I can speak, Ronan cuts in, moving closer until his body presses against mine from shoulder to knee. “I don’t have Rowen’s patience,” he admits with a crooked grin. “Every time some guy tried flirting with you, I had to physically stop myself from dragging him out of the room by his shirt.” His smile fades, replaced by a tenderness that hits like a punch to the chest. “But honestly... every time someone looked at you like you were something they could claim? Something they had a right to touch. I wanted to lose it. They didn’t deserve to look at you that way.You’re not a prize. Not some conquest. You’re... you. And you’re ours. I love you, Berk. I have for a long time.”
I blink hard, fighting the burn of tears from their confessions.
Then Emerson shifts just slightly, enough to pull my attention fully to him. His voice comes quietly, but the weight behind it is anything but soft. “I couldn’t even pretend to handle it,” he says. “I’d have to walk away, watching wasn’t something I could handle. Couldn’t be in the same room.” His eyes lock onto mine with a force that steals my breath. “I didn’t have the luxury of making a scene. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t screaming inside every time some guy thought he could charm you. Like you’d fall for the first idiot who knew how to wink and flex at the same time. No chance I was letting someone like that steal you when I’ve loved you for so long.”
A laugh slips out of me, even though my eyes are full of tears.
“We’ve all loved you for a long time, Berk,” Rowen says, his tone steady and unguarded. “Quietly. Patiently. In silence. But not anymore.”
“Now we’re going to show you,” Ronan adds, picking up the thread without missing a beat as they draw closer still.
“Every day,” Emerson finishes, voice low with certainty. “With every look, every touch, every breath. You’re ours, Berk. And we’re yours.”
“I love you too,” I whisper, meeting each of their eyes. “All of you.”
They move together, surrounding me in a way that feels instinctive, like wolves closing in, not to devour, but to claim. To protect. To cherish.
Their hands roam my skin, slow and deliberate, like they’ve been waiting years for this moment. Maybe they have. There’s hunger in the way they touch me, yes, but something deeper threads through it. Devotion. Possession. A kind of reverence that sends heat spiraling through my veins.
Emerson’s lips trail along my neck, warm breath grazing my skin. Then a gentle lick—just a quick stroke of heat—before he presses a slow, lingering kiss beneath my jaw. “We’re going to go slow with you,” he murmurs, his voice a low curl of smoke. “No rushing. No sex. Not yet. But we’re still going to take care of you. Does that sound okay?”
I can’t speak. Iwhimper, nodding like I’ll die if they stop touching me.
Rowen’s hand tilts my chin gently, his voice a pure velvet command. “Come on, baby. Use your words.”
“Yes,” I breathe out, barely recognizing my voice. “I want you. All of you. Now.”
