The realization should scare me.
Instead, it feels like relief.
My cheek presses against Alex's chest. His heartbeat is slow and even beneath my ear. I let my body match it, breath syncing with the steady rise and fall.
The last thing I register before sleep takes me is Finn's hand on my hair, gentle as a promise, and Malcolm's purr vibrating through the space like a lullaby.
Then I drift off, wrapped in warmth that doesn't demand anything from me, my mind finally too tired to keep fighting.
Chapter 29
I wake up warm.
Not the dull, impersonal warmth of a room with the heat turned up too high, but the kind that wraps around me in layers—soft, living warmth that breathes and shifts and hums faintly beneath my skin. For a long moment, I don't open my eyes. I just lie there, half-asleep, floating in the unfamiliar comfort of it.
The bed beneath me isn't mine.
That realization comes slowly, drifting in around the edges of consciousness. The mattress is softer than the one in my room, the sheets smoother, the blanket heavier. And it's certainly more comfortable than my chair. Someone is pressed along my back, solid and steady, an arm draped loosely around my waist like it belongs there.
I stretch instinctively, toes flexing beneath the blanket, shoulders rolling as I arch slightly into the warmth behind me. A small, content sound slips out of my throat before I can stop it.
My body answers itself.
My omega instincts stir—gentle, pleased, stretching like a cat in sunlight. I preen without thinking, rubbing my cheek against the pillow, inhaling deeply. The air smellsfaintly of soap and fabric softener and something warmer beneath that, muted by blockers but still unmistakably him.
Finn.
The name drifts through my mind lazily, unthreatening.
I shift again, careful and slow, turning just enough to tuck myself more securely into the curve of his body. His arm tightens slightly around me in response, a quiet reflex, and I feel a soft exhale against the back of my neck.
It's peaceful.
For a heartbeat, that's all there is.
Then memories crash back in.
The zoo footage. Marie's heat. Ragon's roar. The promise to "talk later." The door closing behind them.
I gasp.
My eyes fly open, heart slamming into my ribs as panic surges up fast and sharp. I jerk away from Finn, scrambling upright, the blanket sliding off me and pooling at my waist.
"Oh gods—"
I'm not in my room.
I'm not in Ragon's house.
I didn't go home.
Cold terror floods my system, drowning out the warmth, the comfort, the safety I woke up in. My breath comes in short, ragged bursts as I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand too fast, dizziness flashing through my vision.
Ragon is going to be furious.
The thought hits me with absolute certainty. He told me to stay in the house. He told me he'd check on me. Andinstead, I ran. I crossed the lawn. I fell asleep in another pack's home like it was nothing.
My stomach twists violently.
