"That is increasingly debatable."
I laugh. The real kind. The kind that fills the room.
***
Later, after the initial chaos dies down and someone has made coffee and Malcolm has asked about the marking timeline two more times, I find Finn alone in the kitchen.
He's leaning against the counter with his mug. The laughter from earlier has faded into something quieter. More thoughtful.
I know what he's thinking about. I can see it in the way he's not quite meeting my eyes.
"Hey," I say.
"Hey."
I hop up onto the counter beside him. "Talk to me."
He takes a sip of his coffee then sets it down.
"I'm happy," he says. "I want you to know that. I'm genuinely, completely happy."
"But."
He winces. "No but."
"Finn."
He sighs. Takes off his glasses. Cleans them on his shirt even though they're clean. Puts them back on.
"It's stupid," he says.
"Say it anyway."
"When they all mark you, I won't be able to." He says it simply. Like a fact he's reporting. "Every alpha in this pack will have a claiming bite on you and I'll have—"
"Finn."
"—a strong emotional connection and excellent taste in restaurants."
I take his hand.
"You were the first person in that house who made me feel safe," I say. "Not because of a scent match. Not because of a purr or a knot or any alpha thing. Because you walked into my garden and made small talk. You think I don’t know you couldn’t care less about plants? You were there because you knew I needed someone. Someone neutral. Because youwantedto be there for me. Every time I was falling apart without saying it, you came, or you text me to come over, or you researched my gym class and then called Chase to go there and check on me when you couldn’t. You didn’t need a bond or a scent or an imprint." I hold his gaze. "That's a claim, Finn. You claimed me long before anyone bit anyone."
His jaw works.
"And for what it's worth," I say, "I can't mark any of them either. No omega bites. So you and I are in the same boat."
"That's not quite the same thing."
"It's close enough. We're the non-biters." I bump his shoulder with mine. "But don't think for a second that means I don't claim every single one of you. Because I do. Fully. Completely." I pause. "And if any omega so much as looks at one of you too long, I will scratch her eyes out."
He looks at me.
"I'm serious. I'll fight her in a parking lot. I don't care."
He laughs. Wet and real. "You weigh a hundred and twenty pounds."
"A hundred and twenty pounds of fury." I point at him. "Yours. All of yours. And I’m not sharing."
