Bastien. The older Laurent brother. The ghost that haunts this pack even from across an ocean. Every time his name comes up, the air gets heavier.
Raphael redirects the conversation with the practiced skill of someone who has chaired meetings and knows when to keep discussions on track.
"The question at hand is what we are doing about Mae's situation. The temporary pack arrangement that Etienne proposed last night is actually ideal. It gives her the documentation she needs, gives us time to determine if this dynamic is compatible, and puts no permanent pressure on anyone."
He turns to look at me, his gray eyes carrying a warmth that contrasts with his businesslike tone.
"And who knows. Maybe this dynamic could be more than compatible. If the three of us prove worthy of you, Mae Rose, you can decide whether temporary becomes something else entirely."
My cheeks flush with heat that has nothing to do with the bacon Cal is plating.
Three Alphas are looking at me.
Cal with his open warmth and his easy humor. Etienne with his quiet depth and his secret stories. Raphael with his calm authority and his scent that makes my entire body hum.
They are offering me a lifeline. A chance to stay enrolled, to pursue skating, to exist in this university without the constant threat of expulsion hanging over my head. And beyond the practical benefits, they are offering the one thing I have wanted for so long I had stopped letting myself admit it.
A place to belong.
Even if it is temporary. Even if it ends on Valentine's Day when I have to make a real decision about my future. For the next five weeks, I would not be alone. I would have people who notice when I am cold, who remember to save me breakfast, who ask about my knee and mean it when they want to know the answer.
Is that not worth the risk?
Is it not worth trying, even if it might hurt?
I think about my father's words, the ones he said when he sent me away. About needing to grow, needing to find myself, needing to stop being stuck in a standstill. About being independent and humbled and grateful.
But independence does not have to mean isolation.
And accepting help does not have to mean surrendering control.
I take a breath.
"Okay," I say, my voice steadier than I expected. "Why not?"
Three sets of eyes widen slightly.
"Seriously?" Cal asks, his expression brightening with hope he is clearly trying to temper.
I nod, feeling the decision settle into my bones like the first morning of a new season.
"I would like to try it."
CHAPTER 22
Old Habits
~RAFE~
Idrop the last box onto the floor of my new dorm with more force than necessary, the cardboard making a satisfying thud against the bare hardwood.
The room echoes.
Empty walls, empty shelves, empty everything. The space is identical to the one I just vacated, same layout, same dimensions, same depressing institutional beige that the university thinks qualifies as neutral. But without my posters, my trophies, my three years of accumulated territory markers, it feels less like a room and more like a holding cell.
A holding cell for one.
The new packmates who are supposedly being assigned to fill this unit have not arrived yet. Administration assured me they would be here by this evening, two Alphas whose names I did not bother to remember because none of this should be happening in the first place. I should be in my room, in my apartment, with my pack.
