Chapter 28
twenty-eight
KITANIA
I traced my finger over the slightly raised, silvery mark on my inner wrist—Tommy’s claim on me—and felt the immediate echo ripple through our bond. Somewhere in the penthouse, he paused in whatever he was doing; the sensation traveling between us like an invisible caress. I didn’t need to see him to know he was smiling. That was what it was like now—these invisible threads binding us all together, letting me sense where they were, what mood they were in, sometimes even catching fragments of their thoughts when emotions ran high. The morning sunlight filtered through new gauzy curtains, transforming what was once formal and impersonal into something warm and inviting. I tucked my feet beneath me on the plush u-shaped sectional—another new addition—and let myself sink into the moment, into the feeling of finally being home.
Just two days after my heat, my body still hummed with the aftereffects of bonding. Four marks on my skin, four threads of connection woven into my very being. Each one felt different, carried a different energy, a different essence of the man who’d placed it there. I closed my eyes, letting my fingers drift from one to the next, savoring the unique sensations each touch evoked.
The penthouse around me barely resembled the place I’d first been brought to months ago. Gone was the cold marble that had once dominated the floors, replaced with hickory hardwood that felt good against my bare feet. Heavy, intimidating furniture had been swapped for pieces chosen for both beauty and comfort. The masculine severity had softened into something that felt lived-in, cozy.
Even the smells had changed. Our signatures mixed with the lingering scents of fresh paint, wood stain, fresh cotton, candles, and the faint sweetness of the flowers I’d placed on the dining table. And once the oven was operational, the aroma of fresh baked goods would mix right in.
These were the scents of home.
What I loved most, however, wasn’t the fancy oven or the comfy new furnishings. It was that everywhere I looked, I saw us. Dimitri’s sophistication in the clean lines, Gio’s warmth in the earth tones, Marco’s vibrancy in bold accent pieces, and Tommy’s playfulness in unexpected touches of whimsy. I’d worked hard to create a space that was all of us together—blending the style and preferences of five people into one cohesive home.
“Here you go, Angel.”
Marco emerged from the kitchen with two steaming mugs, his hair still damp from a shower, wearing only a pair of low-slung jeans. His colorful tattoos were on full display along with all those delicious, rippling abdominals. God , he was pretty.
He settled beside me on the couch, his thigh pressing against mine as he handed me a cup of fragrant tea. The scent of chamomile and honey curled through the air, the steam kissing my face.
“Thanks,” I murmured, taking a slow sip.
His eyes—those intense blue eyes that never failed to make my stomach flutter—tracked the movement of my hand as I reached for the mug. “You’re doing it again,” he teased, one corner of his lips quirking up.
“What?” I asked, though I knew exactly what he meant.
“That thing where you can’t go ten minutes without checking in on us through the bonds.” His accusation held no bite, just affection laced with a hint of smugness. He reached over, and his fingers landed on my knee, drawing lazy circles there.
I felt my cheeks heat. “Says the man who’s orbited me like a satellite all morning.”
Chuckling deep and low, he slid closer until our thighs were fully pressed together. “Can you blame me?”
He trailed the lightest touch along the mark he’d left on the top swell of my breast, just visible above the scooped neckline of my oversized sweater. Pleasant shivers skittered down my spine, and I knew he could feel a whisper of the heat he was creating in me.
Before I could answer, I felt a tug on two more of my connections—one intense, one steady and sure. Seconds later, Dimitri appeared from his office doorway and Gio from the direction of the workout room, as if pulled by the same magnetic force. I bit back a smile. They pretended they weren’t constantly aware of me through our bonds, but their bodies betrayed them.
Gio dropped down on my other side. Still slightly sweaty from his morning workout, his scent intensified in a way that made my inner Omega purr. Dimitri rounded the back of the section to stand behind me, his hand automatically finding my hair, those inked fingers weaving through the strands in a gesture that had become as natural as breathing.
“Just hung up with Joey. He says the bathroom tile will be finished tomorrow,” Gio informed us, his eyes tracking my reaction. “And the ovens arrive this afternoon.”
I beamed. I’d chosen every element for this renovation, from the cabinet handles waiting to be installed to the intricate tile pattern I’d fallen in love with for the master bathroom. The men had given me free rein, supporting every decision, delighting in my excitement as I transformed their space—our space—into a true home.
I’d felt a little guilty for how much we were spending on remodeling, but the guys kept telling me that we had plenty of money and not to worry about a budget. That if they could buy fancy cars and helicopters, then we could spend whatever we needed to turn our home—the place we spent most of our time—into something beautiful that fit all of us.
After growing up with almost nothing, it was hard to imagine a life where I didn’t have to fret about money. It was freeing to know we were taken care of, that we had plenty to live and enjoy our lives, but I made a vow to use our finances for good, too. To give back to those less fortunate, like I’d been—especially to children who’d lost their families. No child should have to go without a coat in the winter, or have to squeeze their feet into shoes too small for them because their guardians couldn’t afford a new pair. I’d been there, and if I could help another kid not feel so alone, so burdensome, I’d do it in a heartbeat.
Dimitri had even said we could start a charity, something I could help oversee. I’d loved the idea instantly.
“I can’t wait for these renos to be completed,” Dimitri said, his voice carrying that slight rumble that always made me want to curl against his chest. “The sooner everything’s finished, the sooner we can focus on other matters.”
I knew what “other matters” meant—safety protocols, security upgrades, and the ongoing issue with the rival family next door. But for now, in this soft morning light, those concerns felt distant, held at bay for another day.
All I wanted to do for the rest of the week was enjoy my new bonds and hold on to the lingering contentment and happiness from the past week of being in heat.
A familiar thread of joy zipped through the bond, and I looked up to see Tommy strolling into the living room, his hair adorably mussed, dimples flashing as he caught my eye. “Look at this little gathering,” he said, dropping onto the floor at my feet, his back resting against my legs. “What’d I miss?”
“Nothing,” I told him, my free hand automatically finding his hair, combing through the dark strands. “Just talking about the renovations.”
He tilted his head back to look at me, those green eyes sparkling. “It’s nothing like it was before,” he remarked, looking around with appreciation. “Remember how flashy this place felt? It was too formal. Almost like a hotel lobby.”
I nodded, shifting slightly so he could lean more comfortably against my legs.
“I blame the designer we hired when we first moved in.” Marco winced. “But you’re right—it was like a showroom, not a home.”
Dimitri’s fingers continued their gentle path through my hair. “I never realized how much it needed someone like you.” His voice softened as he added, “How much we needed you.”
The admissions warmed me more than the tea cradled between my palms. Coming from Dimitri—stoic, reserved Dimitri—such words carried immense weight. I leaned back into his touch, letting my gratitude flow through our bond.
Marco stretched his arm across the back of the couch, fingers brushing Gio’s shoulder in a casual gesture of brotherhood that made my heart swell. “Who would’ve thought all it needed was the right touch?” His eyes met mine, intense and adoring. “The right Omega.”
I felt the contentment radiating from all of them, their satisfaction with what we’d built together—not just the physical space, but what existed between us now. Those golden threads of connection that wove together to create a strong, unbreakable bond.
I didn’t know how to describe it—what it felt like now that I was theirs. Not just in body, not just for a night or a season, but truly, irrevocably theirs .
For so long, I’d lived with the weight of being tolerated. Used. Left behind. Like love was something I had to earn by working hard and being obedient. By shrinking myself, by being quiet and good and small.
But the bond had undone all of that.
It rewired me. Being claimed, being kept—not as some possession but as something precious —it cracked something open in me I didn’t even know was still alive. And in its place, something warm had taken root. Something steady. Fierce. Permanent.
I didn’t just have Alphas now. I had mates. A pack . A home. I had a future that wouldn’t vanish the second I wasn’t convenient. For the first time, I wasn’t waiting for the other shoe to drop. I wasn’t waiting to be discarded.
I was wanted . Forever.
My fingers traced Tommy’s mark again, just to feel that playful tug of connection. My gaze found each of them in turn, letting them feel the full breadth of my love.
The quiet moment shattered when Dimitri’s phone buzzed.
He pulled it from his pocket, his expression shifting subtly as he glanced at the screen.
“It’s ‘Zo,” he said, then stepped away to answer it.
Though he moved to the far side of the room, I felt it immediately—a dark curl of tension, a sharp edge of anger slicing through our bond.
I sat up straighter, my hand automatically finding the mark he’d left on my throat. The others noticed too, their bodies tensing in response to the change in their brother’s demeanor—or perhaps they felt it through me, our bonds creating a complex web of shared sensitivity.
When Dimitri returned, his expression was carefully neutral, but I was already standing, drawn to him by the turmoil I felt churning beneath his composed exterior. I set my mug down, crossing to where he stood.
“What is it?”
Our eyes met, and something passed between us—something that wasn’t possible before the bond. I could feel his reluctance to disturb our peace, his instinctive desire to shield me from whatever somber news he’d received. But I also sensed his recognition that I was no longer someone to be kept in the dark. I was his mate, bound to him in every way.
He sighed, shoulders dropping slightly. “Rocco’s been spotted,” he admitted, voice tight. “Near the city.”
The atmosphere shifted instantly, that peaceful morning haze evaporating as if it never existed. I felt the change like a physical thing—the way Marco’s muscles coiled, how Gio’s jaw clenched, the slight quickening of Tommy’s breath.
Rocco Valentino. The name alone was enough to make my skin crawl, and I longed for the day I’d never have to hear it uttered again.
Before anyone could speak, a harsh electronic beep pierced the air—a perimeter alert from the security system. In seconds, the brothers moved with practiced precision: weapons appeared as if conjured from thin air, and I found myself pulled to the center of their protective formation, surrounded on all sides by their bodies.
Dimitri’s phone buzzed again. He answered it with a curt “Report,” then listened intently. The seconds stretched, filled with nothing but our breathing and the pound of my heart. Finally, he exhaled. “Stand down. False alarm.”
“What happened?” Marco demanded, his weapon still at the ready.
Dimitri glanced at his phone, jaw tight. “Appliance delivery. He was early. Didn’t check in with security downstairs and tried to take the service elevator without clearance.”
He didn’t sound angry—yet—but the tension in his body said enough. This wasn’t just some minor inconvenience. The protocols had worked, yes, but the idea that someone— anyone —could slip through even partway had rattled them all.
Slowly, weapons disappeared back into holsters and waistbands. Shoulders uncoiled. But the moment had already shattered. The warmth, the quiet, the fragile sense of peace we’d been clinging to—it all cracked under the reminder that we weren’t untouchable. Our sanctuary, as beautiful and safe as it felt, was still just a few walls between us and the rest of the world.
I felt Tommy’s hand slip into mine, squeezing gently. “It’s okay,” he murmured, though we both knew it wasn’t, not really.
Not while Rocco was out there, nursing his wounded pride, plotting his revenge.
Until he was dealt with, it felt like we were living on borrowed time, and I hated it.