LUCY
{Days later}
The world welcomed me slowly. I moved slightly, feeling the soft comforter beneath me. God, I loved this room. I loved this bed. I loved how this new life was changing into a wonderful, warm thing.
I opened my eyes. “It’s a brand-new day,” I whispered to the empty space around me.
Morning light streamed through the gauzy curtains of my bedroom, catching in the crystal chandelier that hung from the center of the ceiling. Tiny rainbows danced across my walls and ceiling, painting my sanctuary with fragments of color I'd once been told I might never see. I stretched beneath the incredibly soft sheets, reveling in the sensation against my skin—another luxury I'd been denied for so long that it still felt like a dream each morning I woke to it.
I lay still for a moment, watching the prismatic display above me, remembering how these same men who now gave me rainbows had once made my life miserable. The memory of those early days—the fear, the uncertainty, the anger—no longerstung the way it once had. Not because I'd forgotten, but because I'd chosen to move beyond it. To give them the space to prove they deserved me.
And prove it they had, in a thousand tiny ways that kept accumulating.
I pushed back the comforter and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, my toes curling against the plush area rug. My body felt stronger today—another good day in a string of increasingly good ones. The pain that had once been my constant companion had retreated to occasional whispers rather than screams.
Padding to the closet, I selected a soft sweater and leggings, clothes chosen for comfort rather than style, though the guys insisted I looked beautiful in everything. Another change from the hospital gowns and utilitarian clothing I'd worn most of my life.
The house was quiet as I made my way down the hallway toward the living room. I didn’t fear the silence though, not like I once did. I could move about freely, wherever I wanted.
When I turned the corner into the living room, the sight that greeted me stopped me in my tracks. All five of them—Xander, Asher, Nitro, Kane, and Fallon—lounged in various positions around the room. Together. All at once.
For weeks now, they’d been strictly preparing for the upcoming Cirque du Sang performance in Henderson, ensuring that everything in their routines went smoothly. But they'd taken shifts, making certain I was never alone during my recovery, one of them always home. That meant I'd rarely seen all five in the same place at the same time lately.
"You're all here," I said, unable to keep the smile from my voice.
Xander looked up from his position on the couch, his dark eyes warming as they met mine. "The Cirque gave everyone the day off."
"Everyone?" I moved further into the room, drawn to them by a force I couldn’t deny.
“Everyone.” Kane grinned from where he sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by what looked like costume sketches. “We’re all spending the day together. We need it. The next week is going to be hell before the big night.”
My heart fluttered at the mention of opening night. I'd been looking forward to it forever it felt like—my return to the Cirque du Sang amphitheater. The place where I'd nearly died was also the place where my new life had truly begun, a symmetry that wasn't lost on me. Almost poetic really, to find a reason to be alive right where death almost claimed me.
"I can't wait," I said, perching on the arm of the sofa near Fallon. "I've been dreaming about it. The acrobats, the illusionists, and watching you guys.” That last sent lightning through me. I couldn’t want to see my men perform.
"Are you sure you're ready, Luce?" Asher asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp with worry.
I'd heard variations of this question from each of them over the past few days. Their concern was touching, but also frustrating. I needed them to understand I couldn't—no, I wouldn't—live in fear.
"I told you," I reminded him, meeting his gaze directly, "I can't be scared of living just because I had an accident."
"A terrible accident," Nitro interjected sharply from his position by the window, his back tense as he stared outside.
Among all of them, Nitro struggled the most with letting go of what had happened. The guilt he carried was practically visible, a weight pressing down on his broad shoulders. I rose from my perch and moved toward him, drawn by his unveiled pain. No matter how I tried to ease it, Nitro still blamed himself.
"A terrible accident that brought us all together," I countered, reaching his side and gently tracing the back of my hand down his scratchy jawline.
He leaned into my touch, a small smile forming though his gaze remained tight. My chest ached at the sight. I wanted to erase that memory from all of them, and replace it with something beautiful instead.
"I plan to live every minute to the fullest," I announced, turning to address the entire room, my voice stronger than it had been in years. "If something bad happens, so be it."
The effect was immediate. Five sets of Alpha shoulders straightened, five expressions darkened, and the air in the room suddenly filled with their protective scents—earth and forest and storm. The biological response was so automatic, so intense, that I nearly laughed.
"But nothing bad will happen," I clarified, softening my tone, "because I've got you guys now. I've got a family."
The word hung in the air between us, delicate and powerful. Family. Something I'd lost, or perhaps never truly had. Not until these five broken men got past what they thought they’d wanted in an Omega and accepted me. The woman who seemed out of place, breakable, worthless. Only I wasn’t. I’d never been worthless. I’d always been worthwhile, no matter how my parents once made me feel.
Xander stood, moving toward where Nitro and I lingered by the window. His presence was solid, something I knew I could lean on anytime I needed stability.
