Chapter 12 #2
“Professional hazard. I remember every detail about places that matter.” I gestured toward the log, careful not to assume welcome. “Mind if I join you? I promise not to fall in this time.”
That earned me a small smile, the first genuine expression I’d seen from her since she’d vanished from town. “You didn’t fall in. You jumped in trying to catch that frog for me.”
“And came up empty-handed and soaking wet while you laughed until you cried.” The memory was so vivid I could still feel the shock of mountain snowmelt, could still hear her delighted giggles echoing off the rocky banks. “Completely worth it, though.”
She scooted over to make room for me on the log, and I settled carefully beside her. Close enough to catch the vanilla and warm sweetness of her scent, but not so close that she’d feel crowded. The same respectful distance I’d maintain with wildlife that needed space to feel safe.
We sat in comfortable silence while I catalogued the forest sounds around us. The creek’s constant murmur over stone. A red-breasted nuthatch calling from the canopy above. Somewhere deeper in the woods, the rapid drumming of a pileated woodpecker working on beetle larvae in a dead snag.
Normal forest rhythms that meant the ecosystem was functioning as it should. But the tension radiating from the woman beside me suggested emotional systems that were struggling to find their balance.
“So,” I said eventually, keeping my tone carefully neutral. “Martinez was asking about Thursday. Wanted to know if his partner could join us for the foraging hike.” I paused, giving her space to respond. “I told him I’d confirm the final headcount. But I wasn’t sure if we were still on.”
Her shoulders tensed, and I felt the shift in her energy. “I’m sorry. I should have texted you.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation. I just wanted to make sure I hadn’t...” I searched for the right words. “Pushed too hard. Asked for too much too soon.”
“You didn’t.” The words came out quick, almost desperate. “You didn’t do anything wrong. This is all me.”
“Want to tell me what ‘this’ is?”
She was quiet for long enough that a chipmunk ventured out onto a nearby boulder, cheeks bulging with seeds it was gathering for winter storage. Smart behavior for a creature that understood seasonal cycles and the importance of preparation.
“I don’t know how to do this,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “How to be around people who are kind to me without waiting for it to turn into something complicated. How to choose who to be with and when it’s okay.”
The pain in those words made my chest ache. “What makes you think kindness has to turn complicated?”
“Experience.” She pulled her knees tighter to her chest. “Every time someone shows interest in me, every time things start feeling good and safe, it becomes about what they want from me. What they need me to be.”
I thought about this carefully, watching the chipmunk stuff another seed into its already overstuffed cheeks.
In my work, I’d observed countless examples of animals that thrived in collaborative relationships.
Wolf packs that hunted together, beaver families that built together, bird flocks that migrated together.
Cooperation as a survival strategy, not competition.
“Is this about the foraging hike?” I asked gently. “Because if it feels like too much, we can just stick with cooking lessons. Or nothing at all, if that’s what you need.”
“It’s not the hike. The hike sounds wonderful.
” She turned to look at me, and I saw genuine regret in her expression.
“It’s everything else. The way you look at me sometimes, like you’re seeing something I’m not sure I can be.
The way I catch myself looking forward to seeing you, getting excited about teaching you to cook.
The way it all feels too good to be real. ”
Understanding hit me with sudden clarity. She wasn’t retreating from something I’d done wrong. She was retreating from something that felt too right, too fast, too risky to trust.
“And then there’s Hollis,” she continued, the words tumbling out now like water over stones.
“Who’s been so patient and careful, who makes me feel safe in his bookstore, who never pushes for more than I’m ready to give.
And I like spending time with him. I really like it.
But then I feel guilty because I’m supposed to be figuring out what’s happening with you, and I can’t do both, and I don’t know the rules for any of this. ”
There it was. The real source of her retreat. Not fear of what I’d offered, but confusion about what she was allowed to want.
I took a slow breath, choosing my words carefully. “Talia, there are no rules that say you can’t spend time with both of us.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“I know Hollis has been spending time with you. Half the town knows, because this is a small town and people talk.” I kept my voice steady, matter-of-fact. “And I think that’s good. Hollis is one of the best people I know. Patient, thoughtful, good at creating safe spaces for people who need them.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. I do.” I meant it, too. The territorial instinct that said I should feel threatened by another alpha’s interest in the woman I was falling for was completely absent. Instead, I felt something closer to relief. “He’s exactly the kind of person you should have in your life right now.”
She was staring at me like I’d started speaking a foreign language. “But you... I mean, don’t you want...?”
“Want you to myself?” I finished for her. “Maybe. But that’s not really the important thing here. The most important part of all of this right now, what I want, is for you to have whatever support system helps you feel safe and valued. And if that includes Hollis, then I’m glad he’s there.”
“I don’t understand.” Her voice was small, confused. “How are you not angry? How are you okay with this?”
I thought about how to explain something that felt instinctively right but went against every traditional narrative about romantic relationships.
“You know how in healthy ecosystems, diversity makes everything stronger? How the forest is more resilient when there are multiple species filling different ecological niches?”
She nodded slowly.
“I think people work the same way. Especially people who’ve been hurt badly enough that trusting anyone feels dangerous.
” I gestured toward the creek, the forest, the interconnected web of life surrounding us.
“You don’t have to choose just one source of support.
You can have multiple relationships that meet different needs, complement each other instead of competing. ”
“Is that normal?” The question was barely audible. “To want more than one person? To feel drawn to different people for different reasons?”
“In this world? In Hollow Haven?” I smiled gently. “More normal than you might think. Pack dynamics aren’t uncommon, especially for omegas. Having multiple alphas who care about you, who support you in different ways? That’s not weird here. That’s just how some families form.”
She was processing this information like it was completely new data about how the world worked. Which, given what she’d told me about her past, it probably was.
“But I barely know either of you,” she said. “How can I even think about something like that when I’m still learning to trust you individually?”
“You don’t have to think about it as some big decision about the future.” I kept my tone casual, non-pressuring. “You just have to decide what feels right today. Do you want to keep having coffee with Hollis at the bookstore?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to keep taking cooking lessons with me?”
“Yes.”
“Do you still want to go foraging on Thursday, assuming I didn’t completely scare you off with my enthusiasm about edible mushrooms?”
That got me a real smile. “I definitely still want to go foraging.”
“Then that’s what you do. You keep showing up for the things that feel good, and you trust us to handle our own feelings about the situation.”
She was quiet for a long moment, and I watched something shift in her expression. Then she said, very softly, “There’s someone else.”
My stomach dropped, but I kept my face neutral. “Okay.”
“Cassian Black. He’s been...” She trailed off, looking lost. “I don’t even know what he’s been doing. Helping me with legal paperwork for my business license. Offering to connect me with the right people. Being impossibly kind and professional and making me feel like I matter.”
Cassian Black. Of course it was Cassian. The man had probably taken one look at Talia and seen someone who needed exactly the kind of support his resources and connections could provide. That was who Cassian was, using his privilege and power to help people who needed it.
And now there were three of us circling an omega who was terrified of wanting anything for herself.
“And you feel guilty about that too,” I said quietly.
“I feel like I’m being greedy. Like I’m leading all of you on because I can’t make up my mind.” Her voice cracked slightly. “Like I’m the worst kind of omega, wanting attention from multiple alphas when I can’t even handle attention from one.”
“You always loved wild things. Maybe that’s why you’re running from us.”
The words seemed to surprise both of us, hanging in the air between us like a revelation. Talia went very still, and I could practically see her processing what I’d said.
“I’m not running from you,” she said finally.
“Aren’t you? You’ve spent the last three days hiding from everyone who wants to care about you because you’re afraid that wanting us back makes you somehow wrong or greedy or broken.” I softened my voice. “But what if it doesn’t? What if it just makes you honest?”
She was quiet for a long moment, watching the water flow past our feet. When she spoke, her voice was thoughtful, like she was working through something she’d never put into words before.
“When I was little, I used to catch fireflies in mason jars. Dozens of them, filling up these big glass containers with their light. And they were beautiful, magical even, all trapped and glowing where I could see them whenever I wanted.”
I waited, sensing this was going somewhere important.
“But they always died,” she continued. “No matter how many holes I punched in the lid, no matter how much grass I put in the jar, they always died. Because wild things aren’t meant to be contained, even by people who love them.”
Understanding hit me like lightning. “And you think that’s what we want to do. Contain you. Make you choose who gets to keep you in their jar.”
“Don’t you?” She looked at me with eyes that held too much wariness for someone so young. “Eventually? Even if you’re okay with me spending time with Hollis and Cassian now, eventually you’ll want me to choose. Eventually it’ll be about who I belong with, who gets to keep me.”
“No.” The word came out harder than I’d intended, fierce with conviction. “That’s not how this works. Not here.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I grew up watching healthy pack dynamics in this town. Because I’ve seen omegas thrive with multiple alphas who love them differently, support them in different ways, build lives together instead of fighting over territorial rights.
” I paused, making sure she was really hearing me.
“It’s not common everywhere, but it’s normal here. ”
She cautiously glanced at me out of the side of eye. “But is it really okay, I mean, are you okay with it?”
“Pack formation. One omega, multiple alphas. It happens, Talia. More often than you’d think, especially in communities like this where people understand that love doesn’t have to be limited or competitive.”
“But I barely know any of you. How can I even think about something like pack when I’m still trying to figure out if I can trust one person?”
“You don’t have to think about pack right now.
You don’t have to think about anything permanent or complicated or scary.
” I kept my voice gentle. “You just have to decide whether you want to keep spending time with people who care about you, and trust that we’re mature enough to figure out how to make that work. ”
“And you really think you could? All three of you?” She sounded almost desperate for reassurance. “You really think you could be okay sharing someone instead of having them to yourself?”
“I think the right people could, yeah. I don’t know Cassian well, but I know his reputation, I know what he did for this community and what it cost him.
I know Hollis pretty well, and I know he’s got the emotional maturity to handle complicated relationship dynamics.
” I met her gaze steadily. “And I know I’d rather be part of your support system alongside other good people than be the only one you’re allowed to lean on. ”
She was staring at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. Disbelief, maybe. Or hope that was afraid to believe what it was hearing.