Pedro emerges, positioning himself beside Sergio. He's in his usual scrubs, arms crossed, green eyes cold and assessing. A moment later, Carlos appears, shirtless despite the cold, sawdust still clinging to his jeans from whatever project he abandoned.
Four brothers. A wall between Callum and the woman inside.
But we're not the ones he needs to face.
The final figure appears in the doorway.
Jessica.
She's wearing my grey hoodie, the one she stole during her heat and never gave back. Leggings and bare feet, dark hair loose around her shoulders. She looks small framed by my brothers, but there's nothing small about her expression.
She looks calm. Powerful. Like a woman who's finally found her footing after years of being knocked off balance.
She looks like pack.
"Jessica." Callum's voice shifts, goes soft, wheedling. The practiced tone of a manipulator who thinks he still has leverage. "Baby, please. We need to talk."
"Don't call me that." Her voice is steady. "I'm not your baby. I never was."
"You're confused. They've gotten into your head." He takes another step forward, and all four of us tense. "This isn't you, Jess. The woman I fell in love with would never..."
"The woman you fell in love with didn't exist." Jessica descends the steps, moving past my brothers until she's standing on the porch, eye level with Callum on the ground below. "You created her. Built her out of criticism and control and the constant message that who I was wasn't good enough."
"That's not true."
"You made me shrink myself to fit inside the box you built, and when I still didn't fit, you just made the box smaller." Her voice doesn't waver.
Callum's face flushes red. The charm is slipping, the mask cracking.
"Everything I did was for your own good. I was trying to help you."
"You were trying to control me." Jessica crosses her arms over her chest. "There's a difference."
"You ungrateful..." He stops himself, visibly swallowing the word. Takes a breath. Tries again. "I gave you everything. A home. A future. Access to a world you had no business being part of."
"You gave me anxiety attacks and self-doubt." Jessica's voice rises, finally showing a crack in her composure.
"That's not..."
"It is." She cuts him off. "But I'm done apologizing."
Silence stretches across the front yard.
The wind picks up, rustling the dead leaves scattered across the lawn. Somewhere in the distance, an owl calls. The stars continue their slow rotation overhead, indifferent to the drama unfolding beneath them.
Callum's shoulders slump. For a moment, he looks almost pitiful. A drunk man in a wrinkled suit, standing alone in the cold, facing a woman who's finally stopped being afraid of him.
Then his expression hardens.
"You'll regret this." His voice goes ugly. Vicious. "When they get tired of you. A late-presenting omega with nothing to offer."
I move before I consciously decide to.
Three steps put me between Callum and Jessica. My hand lands on his chest, firm but not violent. Not yet.
"Enough." The word comes out low. Dangerous.
"Get your hands off me." Callum tries to push past me. "I have every right to..."
