Chapter 2 #2
And I thought about the past three days.
About working remotely, managing Lucas's channel, corresponding with Ro about production schedules, never mentioning the elephant in the room.
About lying awake at night fighting my omega's demands.
About the suppressants that weren't working anymore because my body knew what it wanted.
About running, again, from something that scared me.
I'd run after Dad died. Thrown myself into school, into building my business, into becoming so professionally successful that no one could ever say I was just an omega. I'd run from emotional vulnerability, from dependence, from anything that might make me lose control.
And three days ago, I'd run from Pike Place Market.
But I was so tired of running.
"I'm going to text them back," I heard myself say.
Mom's face lit up. Maya squealed. Josh pumped his fist.
Bill just smiled. "Good girl. What are you going to say?"
I opened a new group text, added all three numbers, and typed:
Michelle: Thank you for the gifts. They're perfect. I'm in Cedar Falls for the week—needed some space to think. But I'm not running anymore. We should talk. All of us.
I hit send before I could second-guess myself.
The responses came almost immediately.
Lucas: YES. When? Where? I can be there in 4 hours.
Ro: Lucas, breathe. Michelle, take the time you need. We can video call if that's easier.
Dex: Or we come there. Whatever you're comfortable with.
I looked at my mother, who was trying very hard not to look smug.
"They want to come here," I said.
"Of course they do. You're their omega." Mom patted my hand. "The question is, are you ready to let them?"
I thought about my business, my reputation, my carefully constructed walls. Then I thought about three alphas who'd sent me thoughtful gifts, who'd been patient when I ran, who'd made it clear they weren't giving up.
I thought about Lucas's dimpled smile, Ro's intense dark eyes, Dex's quiet strength.
I thought about the word "home" and realized it didn't have to mean losing myself. Maybe, just maybe, it meant finding the missing pieces.
Before I could overthink it, I typed:
Michelle: My mom's farmhouse has plenty of room. And apparently my little brother wants to meet you anyway, Lucas. But we do this my way—slow, with boundaries, and we figure out the professional side together. Deal?
Lucas: DEAL. Best deal ever. George and I are packing now.
Ro: We'll be respectful of your space. Promise.
Dex: Text the address. We'll be there tomorrow.
I set down my phone and looked at my mother, feeling terrified and excited and like I was standing on the edge of something huge.
"I hope I'm not making a mistake," I said.
Janet smiled, pulling me into a hug. "You're not, mija. You're taking a chance. That's different."
"What if it doesn't work out?"
"Then you'll handle it. You always do." She pulled back, eyes twinkling. "But something tells me it's going to work out just fine."
From the living room, Josh's voice, "MICHELLE! Did you really invite CozyLuke HERE? Maya said you texted him!"
"Maya has a big mouth!" I called back.
"I HAVE EXCELLENT SOURCES!" Maya yelled from somewhere upstairs.
I laughed despite myself, and Mom joined in. Bill headed back to the kitchen, muttering something about needing to make more food if they were having guests.
My phone buzzed again. Ro.
Ro: Fair warning—Lucas is already planning what to stream from Cedar Falls. He's very excited. I'll try to keep him contained.
Then Dex: Do you need us to bring anything? Lucas is packing his entire streaming setup. It's chaos here.
And Lucas: I promise we'll be respectful and professional and we won't push. But Michelle? I'm really glad you're not running anymore.
I read that last message three times, my chest doing something warm and painful.
I wasn't running anymore.
I was standing still. Letting them come to me. Opening the door to possibility instead of slamming it shut out of fear.
It was terrifying.
But maybe that's what bravery was, being scared and doing it anyway.
"You should warn them about your family," Mom said, reading over my shoulder with absolutely no shame. "Fair warning and all that."
I looked at the farmhouse, thought about my well-meaning but meddling family, and realized my pack was going to walk into complete chaos tomorrow.
I smiled despite myself and typed:
Michelle: Fair warning, my mother is a menace, my siblings are going to embarrass me, and my stepfather will try to feed you constantly. Still want to come?
Lucas: That sounds perfect. Can't wait to meet your pack.
Ro: Your family is part of you. Of course we want to meet them.
Dex: Bring it on.
I laughed, slightly hysterical, and wondered what I'd just set in motion.
Tomorrow, my carefully controlled world was going to collide with three alphas who'd already turned it upside down.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of preparation that I absolutely hadn't authorized.
Mom immediately went into hostess mode, despite my protests that this wasn't a social visit, it was a professional... discussion? Crisis? Negotiation?
"It's your pack coming to meet your family," Mom corrected, pulling out her good linens. "That's absolutely a social visit."
"They're not my pack," I said automatically, but the words felt hollow even to me.
"Keep telling yourself that, mija."
She conscripted Bill into a deep clean of the guest rooms, plural, because apparently we were housing all three of them. Maya and Josh were sent to the store for supplies, though I suspected "supplies" was code for "ingredients for Bill's welcome feast."
I retreated to my room to work, but I couldn't concentrate.
My inbox was full of the usual urgent matters, a client was upset about a brand deal, another needed help negotiating rates, someone's stream had technical difficulties, but all I could think about was that tomorrow, three alphas would be sleeping under the same roof as me.
My omega was thrilled.
Professional Michelle was having a panic attack.
Around four PM, Maya knocked and entered without waiting for permission, flopping dramatically onto my bed.
"So," she said. "Your pack is coming tomorrow."
"They're not—"
"Michelle. Stop. They sent you courting gifts. You invited them to stay at our house. They're your pack." She propped herself up on her elbows. "The question is, what are you going to do about it?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "I can't date clients, Maya. It's literally in my company policy. The policy that made my business successful."
"So change the policy."
"It's not that simple. The industry already treats omegas like we're too emotional to be objective. If people think I'm using a pack bond to keep clients exclusive, I'll lose everything I built."
Maya considered this. "Okay, but counter-argument, what if you're the first to make it work? What if you prove pack bonds can be professional assets instead of liabilities?"
"That's a really big what if."
"Yeah, but you literally built a company from nothing. You negotiated that impossible deal with CozyCon last year. You're the person who makes impossible things happen." She sat up, suddenly serious. "Don't let fear stop you from having something good just because it's complicated."
"When did you get so wise?"
"I'm sixteen. I contain multitudes." She grinned. "Also, I've been reading romance novels. Lots of them. I know how this story goes."
"This isn't a romance novel, Maya."
"Are you sure? Because from where I'm sitting, you've got the whole thing, fated mates, dramatic first meeting, the heroine running from her feelings, thoughtful courting gifts, the big reunion—"
"There's no reunion. They're coming for a professional discussion."
Maya's look of pity was devastating. "Sure, Michelle. Professional discussion. That's why Lucas texted you a smiley face and named your plant George."
I threw a pillow at her.
She left laughing, and I was alone with my thoughts again.
My laptop was open to Lucas's streaming schedule. In two days, he had a major holiday stream planned, a twelve-hour marathon of cozy gaming content with multiple sponsors. It was a huge opportunity, the kind that could really elevate his brand.
And I was his manager. I needed to make sure everything went perfectly.
Which meant I needed to be professional. Focused. Not distracted by the fact that my client was also my fated mate who was currently driving toward me with his pack.
My phone buzzed. A video call from my best friend Sasha, who I'd been avoiding for three days.
I almost didn't answer, but she'd just keep calling.
"You're alive," Sasha said the moment her face appeared on screen. "I was starting to think you'd been kidnapped."
"Sorry. I've been... dealing with something."
"Dealing with something in Cedar Falls, according to your mom, who I had to call because you weren't answering my texts." Sasha's dark eyes narrowed. "Spill. What happened?"
"I met my fated mates."
Sasha's jaw dropped. "WHAT."
"Three of them. A pack. At Pike Place Market on Thursday."
"OH MY GOD. Michelle, that's—wait, why don't you look happy? That's amazing!"
"They're my clients."
Silence. Then: "Oh. Oh shit."
"Yeah."
"Wait, which clients? Please tell me it's not the crypto bros."
"Lucas Morrison and his team."
Sasha's eyes went even wider. "CozyLuke? The wholesome gaming angel? Michelle, that's—that's actually perfect! He's like the nicest person on the internet!"
"He's also my client, Sasha. The one I signed a few months ago. The one whose career I'm supposed to be managing objectively."
"Okay, but he's also your fated mate. That beats out professional ethics."
"Does it though? Because I built my entire business on the principle that professional boundaries are sacred. If I start making exceptions—"