Cursed Love (The Vallaverse)

33. Koa

Koa

The week blurs together. It’s like I’ve stepped into an entirely new world—one that revolves around me in a way that’s both overwhelming and intoxicating. I wake up every morning tangled in their arms, their warmth and soft breaths grounding me before we all stumble into the chaos of the day.

Cuddle fests at night. Professional during the day. It’s a strange duality—how they can go from being my overprotective, doting mates to running their company with precision and authority. I slip into the routine like it’s second nature, riding to the office with them, watching the way they fall into their roles so effortlessly.

It’s oddly satisfying, sitting in the corner of the brothers’ office, sorting through files or watching them work. Sometimes I catch myself staring at them too long—Hunter scrolling through his laptop, glasses perched on his nose, or Moses leaning back in his chair, the light catching the sharp angles of his jaw. Amel’s all but moved in, ensuring that I get a little quality time with the three of them.

They haven’t pressured me for anything since my heat, though there’s a charged energy between us that makes my skin buzz whenever they’re close. There’s no expectation to perform, no demand for me to give anything, and it’s strange. Good, but strange. I was so prepared to have to give myself over to them and submit that I’m wondering if I’m not doing enough.

I haven’t answered Damien’s calls or anyone from my family. The calls come in waves, one after another, like they think eventually I’ll cave. But the silence that follows each unanswered ring feels louder, heavier. I half expect someone to show up at the house, to drag me back to their world of control and expectations. But no one does. Empty threats, it seems.

The brothers are attentive—too attentive. Hunter and Moses hover constantly, one of them always close enough to touch, their hands brushing against mine or tucking a stray curl behind my ear.

“Go find something to do,” I mutter one day, swatting at Hunter as he leans over my desk to sneak a piece of candy from my stash.

“I am doing something,” he says, smirking down at me as he pops the candy into his mouth. “I’m keeping you company.”

“More like breathing down my neck,” I shoot back, rolling my eyes. Moses snickers from across the room, his grin wide and infuriating as he types something into his laptop.

Amel’s a bit more subtle, but not by much. He’s always watching, but there’s a softness there that makes my chest ache. Like he’s waiting for me to say something, to ask for something. And maybe I am.

The worst part, though, is the grins. Every time I ask Hunter or Moses a question—anything—they get this look on their faces, all wolfish and smug like they’re one step away from devouring me. And I’m not ashamed to admit it works. My stomach flips, my cheeks heat, and I can’t even bring myself to glare at them because I like it.

There’s been more than one occasion where one of them almost bent me over a desk. I could feel it in the way Hunter’s hands lingered on my waist or the way Moses’ growl rumbled in his chest when I brushed past him. But then someone walks into the office—a Beta with a file, or some poor employee with a question—and the moment is gone.

It’s maddening. Frustrating. And yet, I can’t stop smiling as I sit here, sorting through another stack of files, listening to the soft hum of their voices and the occasional sound of typing. It’s not perfect, and it’s certainly not what I expected, but for the first time in a long time, it feels like I might enjoy what’s ahead of me.