He didn't elaborate on his omega status—that explanation could wait for another day.
"I collapsed at Butch's feet, literally," Treat continued with a wry smile. "Wasn't exactly the dignified first meeting most mates dream about. I was terrified, exhausted, and I didn't trust anyone, especially not some massive bear shifter claiming I was his destined mate."
Liam's eyes widened slightly at this admission. Perhaps he'd assumed the others had accepted their mate bonds immediately, without hesitation.
"Butch didn't push," Treat said. "He gave me space, safety, time to heal. But he was always there, this steady presence Icould count on when everything else in my life had been chaos." His fingers unconsciously traced the outline of his claiming mark through his shirt. "When we finally completed the bond, it wasn't about possession. It was about connection. The bite itself was just... a physical manifestation of something that already existed between us."
He leaned forward, his expression earnest as he addressed Liam directly. "The claiming bite doesn't trap you. It grounds you. I spent years running, always looking over my shoulder. Now I have somewhere—someone—to run to instead of from."
I watched understanding bloom in Liam's eyes, his rigid posture softening almost imperceptibly.
"It's different for everyone," Treat added, glancing at Percy. "Some of us need more time than others. And that's okay."
The room fell silent as all eyes turned to Percy, who had remained nearly motionless against the wall. His gaze was fixed on his shoes, arms wrapped around himself in that self-protective gesture he often adopted when uncomfortable.
"You don't have to share if you don't want to," I told him gently.
Percy shook his head, then straightened his shoulders with visible effort. "No. It's important." His voice was barely above a whisper, but in the quiet room, every word was clear. "Liam should hear... all our stories. Not just the easy ones."
He took a deep breath before continuing. "I grew up in a traditional fox skulk. Alpha Biggins—" His voice caught on the name. "He arranged for me to be mated to his son when I was fourteen. Forced mating. I wasn't given a choice."
Liam's entire body had gone rigid, his golden eyes wide with a recognition that made my stomach clench. Whatever Percy was describing, it clearly resonated with something in Liam's past.
"My father helped me escape," Percy continued, "but I spent years believing that's what mating was—something forced on the weak by the strong. When I met Gearhead..." He gave a small, humorless laugh. "I was terrified. Especially when he told me about the claiming bite."
Percy's eyes finally lifted, meeting Liam's directly. "I flinched every time he came near my neck. Panicked if he touched me unexpectedly. The thought of being bitten—being claimed—brought back every nightmare I'd been running from."
Liam nodded, a tiny movement that spoke volumes. Here was someone who understood his fear, who had lived with the same terror.
"Gearhead promised to wait," Percy said. "For as long as I needed. He said we were already mates in every way that mattered—the bite was just a formality. So he waited." His voice dropped even lower. "Six months. He waited six months while I worked through my fear."
Percy's hand moved to his collar, pulling it aside to reveal the edge of a claiming mark on his shoulder. Unlike the shame I might have expected, his expression held nothing but pride. "And when I was finally ready, it felt like coming home. Like the final piece falling into place."
I watched as Liam's eyes locked with Percy's in a moment of profound understanding. Whatever silent communication passed between them in that look, it seemed to reach Liam in a way nothing else had.
"It's not about ownership," Percy concluded simply. "It's about choice. Your choice. On your terms. In your time."
The room fell quiet as his words settled over us. Bug had stopped his rocking, sitting unusually still as he sensed the weight of the moment. Treat watched with quiet approval, his hand resting over his own claiming mark.
"We should go," Percy said finally, pushing himself away from the wall. "Bear said not to stay too long."
Bug bounced to his feet, his solemn mood evaporating as quickly as it had come. "Bug tell Bear about kitten gifts! Bear be happy!"
Treat rose more slowly, gathering himself with his usual composed dignity. "Remember what we said, Liam. Every claiming story is different. Yours will be your own—if and when you decide to write it."
As the three omegas moved toward the door, I stood to see them out, murmuring my thanks for their willingness to share such personal stories. Bug hugged me impulsively, Treat clasped my shoulder with a knowing smile, and Percy gave me a slight nod that somehow conveyed more understanding than a thousand words could have.
When I turned back from closing the door, I found Liam standing by my bookshelf, his fingers gently touching the gifts he'd arranged there. The stuffed lynx, the handmade quilt, the leather-bound journal—tangible reminders that he belonged here, with us. With me.
I approached slowly, giving him plenty of time to retreat if he wished. But instead of backing away, he turned to face me. For a long moment, he simply stood there, studying my face as if searching for answers to questions he couldn't voice.
Then, with a deliberateness that made my heart ache, he extended his hand toward mine.
The gesture was small but monumental—perhaps the first time he'd initiated contact with anyone in years. His fingers trembled slightly in the space between us, uncertainty warring with determination in his golden eyes.
I kept my movements slow and gentle as I reached to meet him halfway, giving him every opportunity to pull back. When our fingers finally intertwined, the simple touch sent a joltthrough me more powerful than any claiming bite could have been.
His golden eyes held mine, asking a question he couldn't speak aloud. Not whether he would stay—that decision seemed made already. But whether I truly meant what I'd said, what Percy had confirmed. Whether I would be patient enough to wait until he was ready—days, months, years, however long it took.
