Chapter 2 #3
"It's not an exception if it's a once-in-a-lifetime fated pack bond," Sasha interrupted. "Michelle, do you know how rare this is? Most people never meet even one fated mate. You met three. At the same time. That's...that's cosmic intervention. Destiny. Whatever you want to call it."
"I call it a professional nightmare."
"You call everything that involves emotions a nightmare." Sasha's voice gentled. "You've been running from personal connections since your dad died. I know why. I get it. But honey, you can't run forever."
My throat was tight. "What if I lose everything? My business, my reputation, my clients?"
"What if you gain everything? A pack, a family, support, love?"
"That's not a fair trade."
"Isn't it?" Sasha leaned closer to the camera. "Michelle Rodriguez, I love you, but you're so scared of depending on anyone that you've built your entire life around not needing people. And that's lonely. I know it's lonely because you've told me it's lonely."
"Sasha—"
"When's the last time you let someone take care of you? When's the last time you admitted you needed help? When's the last time you weren't the person solving everyone else's problems?"
I didn't have an answer.
"They're coming tomorrow," I said quietly. "The pack. They're staying here."
Sasha's face lit up. "Good. That's good. Let them in, Michelle. Let them prove they're worth the risk."
"And if they're not?"
"Then you'll handle it. But what if they are?"
After we hung up, I sat with that question.
What if they were worth the risk?
What if Lucas's sunshine warmth and Ro's quiet understanding and Dex's steady protection were exactly what I'd been missing?
What if pack didn't mean losing myself, but finding the pieces I'd been denying existed?
What if I was wrong about everything?
My phone buzzed one more time. Lucas.
Lucas: We're packing up. Leaving first thing in the morning. I know you said we need to talk and set boundaries and figure out the professional stuff. And we will. But Michelle? I just want you to know, however this works out, I'm glad I met you. Even if it's complicated.
I stared at that message for a long time.
Then I typed back: I'm glad I met you too. Even though I ran away.
Lucas: You came back. That's what matters.
I set my phone down and looked around my childhood bedroom, at the band posters and old books and the desk where I'd planned my entire business. This room had always been my safe place. My retreat from the world.
But maybe it was time to stop retreating.
Maybe it was time to see what happened when I stood my ground and let people in.
Tomorrow, three alphas would arrive at my family home.
Tomorrow, I'd have to face the fact that my carefully ordered world was never going to be the same.
Tomorrow, everything would change.
I just hoped I was ready for it.
Spoiler alert: I wasn't ready for it.
At seven AM, I woke up to the sound of aggressive breakfast preparation happening downstairs. Bill was apparently making his entire repertoire, I could smell bacon, pancakes, fresh bread, and what might have been his famous breakfast enchiladas.
"Mom!" I called down the stairs. "What are you doing?"
"Making breakfast!" came the cheerful response.
"They're not coming until later!"
"I want to be prepared!"
I gave up and took a shower, then spent twenty minutes trying to decide what to wear. Professional? Casual? Something that said "I'm a competent business owner but also potentially your omega?"
I settled on jeans and a soft sweater, casual but put-together. Then I changed into slacks and a blouse. Then back to jeans. Then I caught sight of myself in the mirror, having a complete breakdown over clothing choices, and forced myself to stop.
I gave my reflection a glare before firmly telling it, "You've negotiated six-figure deals. You've handled PR crises. You've built a successful business from nothing. You can handle three alphas coming to visit."
My reflection looked unconvinced.
By nine AM, I was camped at my desk, laptop open, desperately trying to focus on work. I had emails to answer, contracts to review, a crisis with one of my other clients who'd gotten into a social media argument with a competitor.
But all I could think about was that somewhere, three alphas were in a car, driving toward me.
My phone buzzed. Dex.
Dex: ETA 11 AM. Lucas is driving. Send help.
Despite everything, I smiled.
Michelle: Is he that bad a driver?
Dex: He's fine. But he's been talking nonstop for two hours about what he wants to show you. Ro is about to gag him.
Ro: I can see these texts, Dex.
Lucas: I'm EXCITED. Is that a crime?
Dex: It is when you've been describing your favorite Cedar Falls content ideas for 45 minutes straight.
Lucas: Michelle needs to know my creative vision!
Michelle: I definitely need to know your creative vision. It's literally my job.
Lucas: See? SEE? Michelle gets it.
Ro: We're going to arrive either with Lucas bouncing off the walls with excitement or unconscious from Dex's restraint. Flip a coin.
I found myself genuinely laughing, and some of the tension in my chest eased.
They were nervous too. They were trying too hard and overthinking and probably just as terrified as I was.
That helped, somehow.
At ten-thirty, Maya appeared in my doorway. "Mom says to tell you they're half an hour out."
"How does she know?"
"She's tracking their car." At my expression, Maya added quickly, "Not in a creepy way! Dex texted her the route so she'd know when to expect them. She's just... monitoring."
"She's texting with Dex?"
"She's texted all three of them. She has opinions about their arrival strategy." Maya grinned. "You should see the family group chat. Mom's giving them a complete breakdown of everyone's personalities and dietary restrictions."
"Oh my god."
"It's very helpful! Now they know Josh is going to fanboy hard, I'm going to ask inappropriate questions, and Bill's going to try to feed them until they burst."
"Maya—"
"Michelle, relax. They're your pack. They're going to love us." She paused. "Well, they're going to tolerate us. Because of you."
"They're not my—" I started, but gave up. "Never mind."
By eleven, I was downstairs, ostensibly helping Mom set out refreshments (coffee, tea, Bill's famous cookies) but really just pacing nervously.
"Mija, you're going to wear a hole in my floor," Mom said.
"I'm fine."
"You've checked your phone six times in the last two minutes."
"I'm monitoring their ETA."
"You're panicking."
"I'm professionally concerned about—"
A vehicle pulled into the driveway.
I froze.
Through the window, I could see a large Sprinter van, white, with "Cozy Caravan" painted on the side in cheerful letters. The kind of vehicle that screamed "mobile streaming setup."
Three doors opened simultaneously.
And there they were.
Lucas climbed out of the driver's side, all sandy hair and bright eyes and barely contained energy. He was wearing a cream sweater and jeans, and even from inside the house, I could feel his excitement.
Ro emerged from the passenger side, dark hair under his baseball cap, camera already in hand. He was surveying the property with that careful, observant way of his, cataloging everything.
And Dex unfolded from the back, and dear god, I'd forgotten how big he was. Six-foot-three of solid protection, moving with that military precision that somehow managed to be both intimidating and reassuring.
All three of them paused, looking at the house.
Then Lucas's head turned toward the window where I was standing.
Our eyes met.
And every cell in my body screamed home.
"Okay," I whispered. "Okay, I'm really doing this."
Mom squeezed my shoulder. "You've got this, mija. Let them in."
"Literally or metaphorically?"
"Both."
I took a deep breath, smoothed my sweater, and walked to the front door.
It was time to stop running.
It was time to see what happened when I stood still and let my pack find me.
I opened the door.
And three pairs of eyes locked onto me with such intensity, such recognition, such absolutely devastating hope that I felt my carefully constructed walls crumble just a little bit more.
"Hi," Lucas said, and his voice was soft and warm and full of wonder. "We brought your plant. George missed you."
Despite everything—the fear, the complications, the professional crisis—I smiled.
"Hi," I said back. "Welcome to Cedar Falls."
And I stepped aside to let them in.