I smiled anyway.
Chapter Ten
Artemis
One week later, and the tension was worse.
I'd expected things to settle after our first meeting. We had a common enemy now, a shared goal. We were allies. The air should have been clearer, the dynamic easier. Instead, the three Alphas on my porch looked like they were about to tear each other apart.
Harper had arrived first again, fifteen minutes early, and had spent those fifteen minutes standing stiffly by the railing, his massive hands gripping the wood like he was trying to strangle it. Remy had pulled up on his motorcycle exactly on time, and the look he'd exchanged with Harper could have started a fire. Silas had materialized from the tree line without warning, making Remy jump and curse, and now sat in his chair with that coiled stillness that felt more dangerous than ever.
The scents in the air were overwhelming. Moonshine and river water and rain, all sharpened with something primal—possessiveness, jealousy, want. It curled around me like smoke,making my skin prickle and my hindbrain sit up and pay attention.
Gumbo had taken one look at the three of them and retreated to the far side of the dock. Even he knew better than to get in the middle of this.
Smart reptile.
"Let's start with updates. Harper, what did you find?" I kept my voice brisk and businesslike as I poured whiskey for everyone, careful not to let our fingers brush when I handed him a glass, my pulse doing something complicated despite my best efforts at composure.
"Crescent Holdings is a subsidiary of a bigger company out of Houston. They've done this before—bought up small communities, pushed out families who'd been there for generations. They're leveraging some questionable environmental permits. I've got a lawyer looking into it." He pulled a folder from inside his jacket, his voice steadying as he shifted into facts, and set it on the table with hands that weren't quite steady, his dark eyes flicking to me like he was checking to see if I was pleased.
"Remy?" I turned to him, catching the way his amber eyes had been fixed on my throat, watching my pulse jump beneath the skin.
"My contact at the parish office says they've been making donations to certain council members. Nothing illegal on paper, but... I've got names. Dates. Amounts. It's all there." He shrugged with forced casualness, his accent thick, and slid his phone across the table to me, his fingers lingering on the device a moment too long before he pulled his hand back like my proximity burned.
"Silas?" I looked at him last, and something flickered in those silver eyes—something hot and hungry that he quickly shuttered behind that blank mask he wore so well.
"I've mapped every property they've targeted. Identified gaps in their survey data. Found three instances where their stakes were placed incorrectly—on land they don't have rights to survey. I've documented everything. Photographs, coordinates, timestamps." His voice was flat and controlled, but his jaw was tight, a muscle ticking beneath the skin as he produced a small notebook and set it beside Harper's folder with military precision.
I looked at the evidence spread across my porch table. Three Alphas, all of them following through. All of them proving they could be trusted.
"Good work. All of you. This is exactly what I asked for." I meant it, and I let them hear the warmth in my voice as I picked up my whiskey and took a slow sip, watching each of them over the rim of my glass.
Harper's shoulders relaxed slightly, some of the tension bleeding from his massive frame. Remy's smile flickered, genuine for just a moment before the mask slid back into place. Silas's chin dipped in the barest acknowledgment, but I caught the way his pale eyes warmed almost imperceptibly.
The warmth lasted about three seconds.
Then Remy reached for the whiskey bottle at the same moment Harper did, and their hands collided over the glass. A growl rumbled from Harper's chest—low and warning, vibrating through the air between them. Remy's eyes flashed gold, his own growl rising to meet it, his body tensing like a coiled spring. Silas went still in that way that meant he was calculating the best angle of attack, his pale eyes tracking both of them with predatory focus.
The scent in the air spiked—aggression and testosterone and something darker underneath that made my teeth ache.
Enough.
"Stop." I didn't raise my voice, but I put every ounce of authority I had into the word, letting it crack through the tension like a whip. All three of them froze. Three sets of eyes snapped to me—dark and amber and silver, all of them burning with something that had nothing to do with the whiskey and everything to do with me.
"We need to talk about the other thing. The thing none of you want to mention." I set down my glass with a deliberate clink and leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest as I looked at each of them in turn, letting the silence stretch until it became unbearable.
Harper's jaw tightened, a muscle jumping beneath his stubbled skin. Remy's smile had gone brittle, cracking at the edges like old porcelain. Silas had stopped breathing entirely, his chest utterly still.
"I'm not blind or stupid. I know what's happening here. The way you look at me. The scent reactions you can't control. The way you're all about five seconds from ripping each other's throats out. You think I haven't noticed?" I kept my voice level, matter-of-fact, gesturing between the three of them with one hand while I raised an eyebrow and waited for someone to be brave enough to speak.
More silence. The air felt thick enough to swim through, heavy with unspoken confessions and barely leashed desire.
"She's right. There's no point pretending otherwise." Silas was the first to speak, his voice flat but his pale eyes burning with an intensity that made my breath catch, and he met my gaze without flinching, his hands perfectly still on his thighs.
"I've wanted you since the moment you walked into my distillery. Haven't stopped thinking about you since." Harper's voice came out rough, almost pained, like the admission was being dragged from somewhere deep in his chest with fishhooks. His massive hands were clenched in his lap, knuckles bone-white, and he stared at me like I was the sun and he'd been living in darkness his whole life.
"Since the Hook. When you saw through me. Saw the real me. I haven't been able to get you out of my head. And I've tried. Believe me, I've tried." Remy's charm had stripped away entirely, leaving something raw and bleeding underneath, his accent thick with emotion as he swallowed hard and let out a shaky laugh that held no humor at all. His amber eyes were bright, almost feverish, fixed on my face like I might disappear if he looked away.
