They exchange a look. “It’s Thursday,” Liam says gently. “It’s been six days since your heat started.”
Six days. A whole week lost to a fever dream. Six days of them taking care of me, of putting their lives on hold, of dealing with my… mess.
And that’s when the tears start. They aren’t sad tears. They’re hot and messy and full of a relief so profound it feels like grief. They stream down my face, fat, silent drops that land on the blanket pooled in my lap.
Maddox and Knox look at Liam, their expressions confused. “Why is she crying?” Knox asks, his brow furrowed. “I thought you said her heat was over.”
“I thought she was alright,” Liam says, his own face a mask of panic. He kneels in front of me, his hand reaching out to touch mine, gentle and hesitant. “What’s wrong? Millie, talk to me. How can we fix it?”
I shake my head, unable to speak, the words caught in my throat. I take a shaky breath, trying to compose myself enough to form a coherent sentence. “I’m just…” I start, my voice thick with emotion. “I’m so in love with you. All of you.”
Their expressions soften, a collective sigh of understanding.
“And I know it’s fast,” I continue, the words rushing out in a torrent. “I know it’s complicated and messy and probably a million kinds of wrong, but I can’t imagine having gone through all of that alone. I would have been so scared. I was so scared.”
“You never have to be scared again,” Knox says, his hand covering mine, his grip firm. “You never have to be alone.”
“We love you too, Millie,” Maddox says, his voice a low, reassuring rumble. “We’ve got you.”
“Thanks,” I whisper, the word inadequate, but it’s all I have.
I watch them, the three of them, and I see it. The easy way Liam bumps Knox’s shoulder with his fist. The small, private smile Maddox gives him. The camaraderie that was born in the fire of my heat, in the shared responsibility of caring for me.
They’re not just three guys who happen to want the same woman anymore. They’re a pack.
And I’m their center.
Liam
Iturn to her, my hand finding her knee. The car is quiet, the engine a low hum, but inside my own head, it’s a storm.
We’re parked in front of my mom’s house, a familiar beacon of warmth and light, but tonight it feels like a judgment chamber. Millie is staring at the house, her hands in her lap, her knuckles white. She looks beautiful, but she’s vibrating with a nervous energy that’s making my own stomach clench.
“Are you ready?” I ask, my voice soft.
She takes a shaky breath and nods. “I am.”
I lean in, closing the small space between us, and press my lips to hers. It’s not a kiss of passion, not like the ones from the last week. This one is meant to ground her, to reassure her. It’s soft and brief.
“You look very pretty,” I murmur against her mouth.
She pulls back, a small, grateful smile touching her lips. “Thanks.” She smooths down the front of her dress, a simple floral thing that brings out the color in her cheeks. “I’m just… pretty nervous.”
“I know,” I say, my thumb stroking circles on her knee. “But you don’t have to be. My mom and Aunt Dee just want to see you. They’ve been worried. They haven’t seen you all week.”
Her eyes meet mine, wide and uncertain. “Do they know?” she asks, her voice a low whisper. “Do they know I was in… you know?”
I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me. It’s not funny, not really, but the bluntness of her question, the sheer absurdity of the situation, hits me all at once.
“Millie,” I say, my lips twitching. “The sheriff missed a community meeting because he was knotted inside you. I think it’s safe to say they have a clue.”
“Fuck,” she says, her face collapsing into her hands. She groans, the sound muffled by her palms. “Oh my god.”
“Hey,” I say, my hand moving from her knee to her wrist, gently pulling her hands away from her face. “Look at me.”
She does, her eyes filled with a mortification that’s almost comical. “They know. Theyallknow.”
“And they don’t care,” I say, my tone firm, leaving no room for argument. “All they care about is you. You’re their family, Millie.”
