I reach up and unwrap the scarf from my neck, letting the burgundy silk fall to the floor like a dropped curtain. The bite mark sits there like evidence of my spectacular lapse in judgment, crescent-shaped and unmistakably fresh enough to broadcast exactly what Logan and I were doing while the rest of the pack was presumably being responsible adults.
Griff goes very still, like someone hit his pause button. His nostrils flare as he scents the air, and I watch understanding dawn across his features like sunrise made of realization and something that looks suspiciously like hunger.
"Well, shit," he says, his voice dropping to a growl that makes every nerve ending I possess sit up and take notice. "Logan marked you."
"Last night," Logan confirms, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides like he's fighting the urge to either reach for me or punch something. "After we rescued Mrs. Patterson's cat."
"In your jeep, I'm guessing." Griff steps closer, his eyes locked on the bite mark like it's the most fascinating thing he's ever seen. "Because that's where you took her when you left."
Xavier's jaw tightens, his professional composure developing cracks around the edges like expensive china under pressure. "You marked her without discussing it with the pack first."
"It wasn't planned," Logan says, but there's defensiveness in his voice that makes my chest tight with something that might be disappointment. "It just happened."
"Things like that don't just happen," Xavier replies, his voice carrying the kind of controlled anger that's more terrifying than shouting. "Marking is a conscious choice. A pack decision."
"Apparently not," I say, my voice sharper than intended because I'm tired of being discussed like I'm not standing right here. “It's something that happens when alphas get carried away and forget about consequences."
Griff laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Well, I guess that settles the pecking order, doesn't it? Logan gets first taste, and the rest of us get to deal with the fallout."
"Griffin,” Xavier warns, but Griff is already moving, circling around me like he's evaluating territory.
"What? I'm just saying what we're all thinking. Logan jumped the gun, but that doesn't mean the game is over." His eyes meet mine, and there's something predatory in his gaze that makes heat pool low in my belly despite my anger. "I mean, I'm next, right? Now that we know she likes them big, and boy am I big."
"I'm not a toy," I snap, stepping back until I hit the wall. "I'm not something you pass around the pack like a party favor."
"No one said you were," Logan growls, moving to block Griff's path toward me.
"Didn't you?" I look between the three of them, noting the way they're positioning themselves, the territorial tension crackling in the air like electricity before a storm. "Because that's sure as hell what this feels like. Logan marks me, Griff calls dibs on being next, and what, Xavier gets the leftovers?"
"That's not what I meant," Griff says, but his voice lacks conviction.
"Isn't it? Because it sounds like you think marking me gives you some kind of claim. Like Logan opened the door and now you all get to walk through."
Xavier pushes his glasses up his nose, a gesture I've learned means he's trying to maintain control. "That's not how pack dynamics work, Griffin."
"Don't lecture me about pack dynamics, Doc. You've been mooning over her for years without doing anything about it. At least Logan had the balls to make a move."
"Making a move and marking someone without consent are two different things," Xavier replies, his voice ice-cold.
"She consented," Logan says, his voice rough. "She wanted it as much as I did."
"Did I?" I ask, and all three of them go still. "Because I don't remember consenting to joining your pack. I remember having sex with you, Logan. Great sex. Mind-blowing sex."
"The bite..."
“We got carried away, and now we're all dealing with the consequences." I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly feeling exposed in ways that have nothing to do with the mark on my neck. "But that doesn't mean I'm yours. Any of yours."
Griff's face darkens, his sandalwood scent going sharp with frustration. "So what, you're just going to pretend it didn't happen? Pretend you don't feel the bond?"
"What I feel is confused. And pressured. And like I'm being treated as a prize instead of a person with her own agency."
"That's not..." Logan starts, but I cut him off.
"Isn't it? You marked me. Griff is already planning his turn like I'm a carnival ride. And Xavier..." I look at the quiet alpha who's been watching this entire exchange with growing horror. "Xavier hasn't said what he wants because he's too polite to join in this pissing contest."
"I want what's best for you," Xavier says quietly. "Which clearly isn't this."
"This?" Griff demands, rounding on him with enough force to make Xavier step back. "What's 'this,' exactly?"
