Chapter Four
Brielle sat in one of the outdoor couches on the roof late that afternoon, her legs folded beneath her as she leaned back into the soft back rest. The couch itself was a hideous brown color, but who cared what it looked like, it was comfy and when a woman wanted to sink in and read, it was perfect.
It was also perfect when a girl just wanted to flop and think, which was exactly her mood in that moment.
The sun was sliding down the sky, painting the horizon in bruised shades of pink and gold.
Below, the hum of traffic and the occasional honk drifted up from the streets, grounding her in the present even as her mind replayed the nightmare over and over.
The roof had always been her place to breathe, to get above the noise and clutter of the city.
Right now, she needed it more than ever.
She tugged her sweater tighter around her shoulders and muttered under her breath, “Maybe I should just move up here permanently. Hopefully I won’t have bad dreams with all this fresh air around.”
The squeak of the stairwell door opening interrupted her brooding. She glanced back to see Willow pushing it open, Liam at her heels. Willow’s face was full of worry, while Liam’s carried the look of a man about to interrogate a suspect. Brielle groaned softly. “And here comes the cavalry.”
“Thought we’d find you up here,” Willow said gently, plopping down beside her with the ease of a sister. “You okay?”
“I don’t know,” Brielle admitted, rubbing her temple. “I can’t shake it. My head feels like it’s full of echoes. That dream really knocked me for a six.”
Willow nudged her shoulder gently. “Want to tell me about it again? You’ve been carrying the weight of it all day, I can see it. Perhaps retelling it might jog your memory on a fact or two.”
Brielle huffed out a humorless laugh. “It was awful. Marion’s voice was mine.
The fear was mine, but not. I woke up feeling like I’d been ripped apart.
And the worst part? I can still hear the screams. Like they’ve lodged in my head somewhere.
The smell of smoke was thick, and every time I closed my eyes today, I kept seeing Libby fall, Jacob and Liam bleeding out at Matthew’s feet.
Saffie’s scream—gods, I swear I can still hear it echoing.
It wasn’t just fear, it was loss, crushing, and absolute, and it felt like my chest was caving in with theirs.
I woke up clawing at my sheets, sure there would be blood on my hands. ”
Willow’s smile faded, her expression soft. “That’s not just a dream, Bri. You know it. It’s a memory. And memories like that ... they don’t just vanish because the sun comes up.”
Brielle wrapped her arms tighter around herself, half joking to ease the tension. “Well, if that’s the case, my subconscious owes me a spa weekend.”
Liam shifted on the other side of the roof, moving restlessly, his knee bouncing restlessly. He looked like he was chewing on words, pacing them in his head but refusing to let them loose.
Brielle caught the movement and raised an eyebrow at him. “You pacing in your head, Liam? Because that frown says you’re dying to add something.”
Liam hesitated for a moment before he crossed the roof slowly, eyes fixed on her, then perched on the bench across from her like a hawk considering its prey. “We need to talk.”
Brielle narrowed her eyes. “You know, usually when someone says that they’re about to break up with me. Should I brace myself?”
Willow choked on a laugh, and even Liam’s mouth twitched. “No one’s breaking up with you,” he said dryly. “But it’s serious. It’s about what happened this afternoon. With the EMTs.”
Brielle blinked. “Hunter and Lennox?”
“Yes.” Liam leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“When we were in the lift, I overheard them talking. Hunter and Lennox caught your scent immediately. I saw the way they stiffened, the way their breathing changed—it was instinctive, and they couldn’t disguise it.
Later, when I stood near them, they caught it again, clinging to me because I’d been with you.
They knew it was yours. And while I was watching them, I caught something, too—an edge of wildness threaded through their own scent.
It wasn’t human. That told me plenty about what they are, and what they’re carrying inside. ”
Stuck on the first part of what Liam had said, Brielle sat back, incredulous. “Excuse me? Are you telling me I need stronger deodorant?”
Willow pressed her lips together, shoulders shaking.
Liam’s expression stayed maddeningly calm. “No, you do not need a stronger deodorant. It was your scent. They reacted to it. Both in the lift, and later when they were near me. It clung to me, and they couldn’t hide their response. And trust me, that response was not one of displeasure.”
“My scent?” Brielle repeated, staring between them. “So, what—you’re saying I have a specific type of stink, but it’s okay because they didn’t hate it? Because this is not helping my self-esteem.”
Willow burst into open laughter this time. “Oh, my god, Bri. Firstly, you do not have a self-esteem issue, and you are not listening to what my man is saying!”
Liam pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not stink, sweetheart. Shifters react to scents, to bonds. And I’m telling you—they reacted to yours. Hard.”
Brielle’s stomach flipped. She wanted to scoff, to dismiss it, but the memory of how Hunter’s gaze had snagged on hers, how Lennox had looked almost winded .
.. it unsettled her. “Shifters?” she asked finally, voice laced with disbelief.
“Shifters react to scents and bonds. You are saying that you think they’re. ..?”
“Yes.” Liam’s tone left no room for doubt. “I suspect Hunter and Lennox are shifters. I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure, but Nolan and Isaac agree.”
As if on cue, the stairwell door opened again, and Nolan and Isaac stepped out.
Nolan folded his arms, his sharp gaze locking on Brielle.
“Liam’s right. We tested it when you were in the hospital.
We pushed dominance into the room—just a little.
Enough to see if they would react to it.
They felt it for sure. Reacted like shifters would. ”
Isaac nodded, his expression grave. “Which means their animals were always there, buried deep. Marcus’s curse trapped them in human skin.
When that curse broke, the bond was still blocked.
But after Saffie destroyed the curse completely with the druid stone.
..” He spread his hands. “Now, their animals are awake. Fully.”
Brielle stared at them, trying to piece it together. “So, let me get this straight. We think that they are shifters.”
Liam nodded. “Yep, pretty fucking sure.”
Brielle nodded. “And that this afternoon they could scent me, not because I smell, but because it is a scent that, shall we say, resonated with them.”
Willow grinned at her and clapped her hands. “Yes! That’s it! Your scent resonates with them.”
Brielle nodded again. “And that resonance, had them reacting to me. They could scent me. And they ... reacted to that scent.”
“Exactly,” Liam said evenly.
She threw her hands up. “Okay, but what does that mean? Because right now it just sounds like I’m walking around with eau de chaos.”
For a moment, no one answered. The wind tugged at her curls, carrying the city’s noise back to them.
Then a familiar voice that had her heart beating faster and her skin tingling said. “It means that you are our mate, sweetheart.”
****
Not being able to wait until the next day, Lennox and Hunter pushed open the door to Fated Ink that afternoon, at the end of their shift.
The bell above it chimed, the sound sharp against the low thrum of tattoo guns coming from the back.
It smelled of antiseptic, ink, and something faintly metallic, but there was a hum of magic in the air that made Lennox’s skin prickle.
This wasn’t just a tattoo parlor. This was something else.
Ursula was bent over a sketchbook behind the counter, while Saffie leaned on her elbows, scrolling on her phone.
Both women looked up in unison as the brothers walked in.
The sudden weight of their combined gazes had Lennox shifting awkwardly, his instinct to bristle tamped down only because he needed these women on his side.
“Here to check out the art we have available for tattoos?” Ursula asked, her green eyes assessing. “Or are you here for something else?”
Hunter cleared his throat. “Both, maybe.” His shoulders twitched, and Lennox knew exactly what his brother was thinking—this place didn’t feel like neutral ground. It felt like being watched.
Ursula set down her pencil. “Do you two already have ink?”
Lennox and Hunter exchanged a look. “Yeah,” Hunter admitted, a little sheepish. “Not exactly proud of it.”
Saffie arched a brow. “Let me guess. Drunken decisions?”
“Not drunk,” Lennox muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just young and stupid.”
Ursula’s mouth curved. “Show me.”
The brothers hesitated, then slowly tugged up their sleeves on their right arms. Hunter revealed a faded anchor etched into his bicep. “Thought I’d end up in the Marines,” he said quietly. “Didn’t exactly work out.”
Lennox rolled his sleeve higher, revealing the bold script of a woman’s name, Sophia, dark and permanent. “Thought she was forever,” he said, his voice dry. “She wasn’t.”
Saffie snorted, her grin quick and merciless. “Oh, that’s rich.”
Ursula chuckled. “We’ll fix those mistakes. I’ll start working on your new designs tonight.”
Lennox frowned. “New designs?”
“You’ll want something that fits who you actually are,” Ursula said simply. “Not the ghosts of who you thought you’d be.”
Hunter gave a small shrug, a half-smile twitching at his mouth. “I guess that makes sense.”
Lennox wasn’t so sure, but he kept his mouth shut. Maybe coming back for new work would be an excuse to spend more time here, to be around Brielle’s people. Winning them over mattered.