It's a knife to the chest, the way she says it.
Ragon's face softens a fraction. "You matter differently. Not more. Not less. Differently. And I am not discussing this further."
She shoves her chair back so hard it scrapes a gouge in the floor.
"Fine. Do whatever you want. I'll get used to it. Like I always do."
She storms down the hall, blanket of vanilla and hurt trailing after her.
Drake hesitates just long enough for my traitorous heart to hope.
Then he goes after her.
Of course he does.
Their scents disappear behind the bedroom door with a dull click.
Silence rushes in.
I stare at my plate.
The syrup has run into a sticky puddle.
I feel like I'm watching a fire from across the street—close enough to feel the heat, far enough no one thinks to hand me a hose.
"I shouldn't have said anything," I murmur.
All three remaining alphas look at me like I've started speaking another language.
"Youdidn'tsay anything," Eli says.
"That doesn't mean—"
His free hand slides over mine on the table, covering it entirely. "You are not wrong for existing. You're not wrong for wanting what you were promised."
My throat burns.
"I don't want to be the thing she blames. The reason she feels less."
"She felt less long before you," Jasper says, matter-of-fact. "From the way she talks, scarcity is the only environment she understands."
"She'll adjust," Ragon says.
His voice has gone from alpha-hard to something else. Tired. Stubborn. "She'll be angry, and then she'll be resigned, and then she'll find her footing. But I am not building this pack on the idea that you're optional, Vee."
The words land deep.
Optional.
Spare.
All the things I've quietly believed about myself for years.
"What if she doesn't adjust?"
"Then she leaves," Jasper says calmly. "Or we revisit structure. But we still don't unclaim you to make room."
Ragon nods once. "We'll cross that bridge if we come to it. For now, the plan stands."
