Jett grips the fabric and gently pulls it upward. The motion is slow, giving me time to change my mind. Cassian helps, lifting the back. Pine raises his arms, guiding the sweater over my head until I am sitting in my tank top, skin exposed to the cool air.
My scent fills the room now. Sweet honey. Warm strawberries. Something softer and deeper beneath it, a scent that comes from the instinctual part of me that I always tried to pretend did not exist.
Jett stares at my bare shoulders, then looks away, jaw tight and respectful.
Cassian's breathing changes. He doesn't touch me again, but he leans closer. "Better?"
"Yes," I whisper, because it is unmistakably better.
Pine sits beside me again. He rests one heavy arm across the back of the couch, an easy loop of protection. His body heat is a distraction and a comfort at once. I lean into it without thinking.
Jett sits back down and places one hand on my thigh. His fingers are warm and steady. The touch is light, not claiming, but it sends a pulse of heat spiraling through my stomach.
"You're doing well," he says quietly. "Your breathing looks better."
I nod. My voice is still trapped somewhere in my chest.
Cassian stands and begins clearing space. He moves the decorative pillows and the sample binders off the couch and places them on the desk. His motions are practical, efficient, like he is preparing to sit with me for hours if necessary.
"You don't have to stay," I say, even though my voice betrays the fact that I want them here. "This is embarrassing."
"No," Pine says, voice low. "Not for us."
Cassian returns and lowers himself to the floor in front of me again, mirroring how he sat earlier. His hand rests palm up on my knee, waiting for me to choose whether to take it. When I place my hand in his, his thumb runs along my knuckles and something inside me melts.
"You're safe," he says. "Nothing is going to happen that you don't want."
"I know," I whisper.
But my body keeps betraying me. Heat builds behind my ribs. My skin feels too tight. My breath hitches. When I shift on the couch, my knee brushes Jett's leg, and he inhales sharply.
My scent changes again. It grows thicker, sweeter. The kind of scent meant to draw Alphas closer. I feel it rising, and I cannot stop it.
Pine leans in slightly, his mouth near my ear. His voice is quiet and rough. "Sharon. You need something. Tell us what it is."
His breath is warm on my skin. I shiver hard enough that Jett's grip on my thigh tightens, holding me steady.
"I do not know," I say, and it is the truth. "I feel everything. Too much. I cannot think."
Cassian squeezes my hand. "Then stop thinking."
Easy for him to say. Harder for me to do when every Alpha in the room is watching my every breath.
Jett kneads my thigh, slow circles, grounding me. "Let your body relax. We're here."
I lean back against the couch. The cushions cradle my spine, but my body seeks Pine instead. I shift closer to him, my shoulder pressing against his solid chest. He wraps an arm around me, gentle and sure. His sandalwood scent settles over me like smoke.
My head tips against his shoulder. He lowers his lips to my hair and breathes me in. The gesture is not possessive. It is reverent.
Jett watches, his eyes dark with something warm and protective. He moves his hand slowly up my thigh to my hip, guiding me to rest more comfortably across the sofa.
Cassian stands again. His movements are quiet and controlled, but I feel the tension under his skin. He removes his leather jacket and drapes it across the arm of the couch. Then he sits beside Jett, close enough that their shoulders touch.
The three of them surround me now. Jett on my right. Pine behind me. Cassian in front of me. A triangle of warmth that feels safe enough to finally let go.
I close my eyes. Heat washes up through my chest. I hear my own heartbeat echo in my ears.
Pine lowers his head and presses his lips to my shoulder. Not a kiss. Just the barest touch. My breath catches. Jett watches him closely, and his jaw tightens before he leans in to kiss the edge of my collarbone.
