Artem set the glass down. "Boundary issues."
"You tracked me to the alley where I was waiting for Finn, and then tracked me to Scotland."
"You used my credit card. You wanted to be found."
"I was about to pop a baby and had nowhere for him to sleep."
Ivan's mouth twitched. "Good story."
"I was being resourceful."
Artem held his finger in the air. “Tell us more about Finn.”
The room eased as I told them about Finn, not as a confession, but as intel. The way a partner tells her pack something they need to know before a fight.
"Where did you visit your friend in London?" Artem asked. "Where did you feel Finn?"
"The Hastings Tower. Presley's pack, Henry, Etienne, Fritz. She'd just bonded with them."
Artem nodded. "Henry Hastings. The corporation. They're building our new central London complex. We've had meetings in his offices for months."
"I didn't feel Finn's bond there," I whispered. "I thought I did. But..."
"No." Artem shook his head. "You were smelling your mates. That's why your body reacted. Not Finn."
"You met with Finn in Prague," I said. "Why?"
"He wanted access to the Russian border. The meeting was"—he paused—"interrupted by a scent."
"Me."
"You."
I bit my lip until I tasted copper.
"When my father finds out I'm here, Finn will come for me too."
"Let him." Ivan was already on his feet, already crossing the room, already kneeling in front of my chair and taking my face in his hands. "He will never get close enough to touch you again."
"You all smell like me."
Artem smiled.
"I only realized it when I got back to Edinburgh. Presley made me see it. I was so sure I wasn't in heat in Prague. I genuinely believed my body was reacting to Finn. But Presley pointed out that if I wasn't in heat, there was only one way to get pregnant. Because you were my mates."
Gregor crossed the room and knelt beside Artem in front of my chair. Two massive alphas, both of them looking at me like I was explaining gravity and they'd been floating their whole lives.
"We matched you," Gregor said. "We could smell it in the cigar bar. We could smell the same truth on Henry's sofa."
"Why didn't you say anything in Prague?"
Ivan's hand found mine. "We knew you'd been hurt. Claiming marks shouldn't be that brutal unless—"
"He wasn't mine."
"We know."
I told them the rest. The transactional love. The cage. The final escape and the years of running that followed. The threats from my father that had followed me across three countries and four identities.
