"Because Ragon asked me. Because this pack needs better balance. Because two omegas with three alphas who are all biologically pulled toward one of them is a structural problem that's going to collapse eventually."
The bluntness is almost refreshing.
"And you're the solution."
"I'm a potential solution," he corrects. "If I decide to stay. If you decide you want me to."
"What I want doesn't seem to matter much lately."
His expression doesn't change, but something in his eyes sharpens. "Then we'll have to fix that."
I don't know what to say to that.
He sets his glass down. "I'm not here to replace anyone. I'm not here to play favorites. I'm here to see if I can help make this work. For everyone."
"Even me?"
"Especially you," he says quietly. "Because from what I've observed today, you're the one holding this house together while pretending you're not falling apart."
The words hit hard.
I open my mouth. Close it. Try again. "I'm fine."
"You're lying," he says, not unkindly. "But that's okay. I just met you. You don't owe me honesty yet."
"Then what do I owe you?"
"Nothing," he says simply. "I'm the one trying to earn a place here. Not you."
He leaves me alone in the kitchen with that thought.
I finish wiping down the counters and try to figure out what the hell just happened.
That night, I sleep alone in my nest. Ragon thought that for Jasper’s first night here, everyone should have alone time. Time to adjust and settle.
I lie in the dark just listening. Footsteps in the hallway. The low murmur of voices. Drake's laugh from across the hall.
My nest smells less like my alphas than it used to. More like fabric softener and my own scent turning stale.
I pull my blanket tighter and try to sleep.
But my mind keeps circling back to the same thought:
Jasper looked at me and saw someone worth defending.
And I don't know what to do with that.
Chapter 9
Jasper finishes moving in on a Saturday.
He doesn't make a production of it. No truck, no parade of boxes. Just two duffel bags and a single bookshelf's worth of belongings carried in from his car with quiet efficiency.
Ragon helps him settle the furniture. Drake offers to grab lunch for everyone. Eli hovers in the hallway asking practical questions about outlet placement and whether the room gets too much morning sun.
I watch from the kitchen doorway, fingers wrapped around a mug of tea I'm not drinking.
Marie stands beside me, close enough that our shoulders almost touch. She smells like jasmine and nerves.
