Chapter 30
JUNE
The bell above my office door chimes as another client leaves, their signed paperwork tucked safely in my filing cabinet. I lean back in my chair and stare at the ceiling.
Seven days since the rodeo ended, when Holden was arrested, his assets frozen, the sale of my childhood home and business falling through in spectacular fashion. Of living in a strange limbo where everything should feel better, but instead feels like standing on ice that might crack at any moment.
My parents are relisting the properties, as the plumbing issues are all fixed.
They’re still desperate to sell, drowning in debt, and expecting me to pick up the pieces of their poor decisions.
I’ve stopped answering every call, stopped volunteering to fix every problem.
But the weight of it still sits on my shoulders.
The real estate office feels different now.
The vintage typewriter on my desk, the burgundy armchair, the wall of photographs and travel brochures.
It’s all the same, but I’m not. I’ve been going through the motions, showing up, smiling, closing deals, because that’s what I do when the ground beneath me feels unstable.
I work. I move. I pretend everything is fine until it actually is.
Or until it isn’t.
Living with Seth, Kai, and Carter is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
Waking up tangled in their arms, eating breakfast together in the small kitchen of the rental house, falling asleep to the sound of their breathing.
It’s everything I never knew I needed, everything I was terrified to want.
But lately, there’s been a tension under the surface.
Every time I bring up the future, they dodge.
Every time I ask about their plans, whether they’re staying in Honeyspur Meadow or moving on to the next town, the next rodeo, the next chapter of their nomadic lives, they redirect.
They crack jokes. They kiss me. They pull me close and change the subject.
It’s not cold. It’s not cruel, but it’s maddening.
I’m not asking for grand declarations or iron-clad promises. I’m not asking them to map out the next fifty years. I just want to stop feeling like I’m waiting for a trapdoor to open beneath my feet. I want to know that this, us, means something beyond the moment.
The ugly thought keeps circling, no matter how hard I try to push it away.
Maybe they’re hesitating because I haven’t hit my heat yet.
It’s been weeks since I stopped taking suppressants, waiting for my body to do what every Omega’s body is supposed to do.
And nothing. No fever, no desperate aches or need, no biological confirmation that I’m really what I think I am.
Just normal days stretching into normal weeks, my body stubbornly refusing to cooperate.
Don’t get me wrong, the arousal between the Alphas and me is astronomical, but it’s not the heat that even Alphas crave.
Maybe they’re waiting to see if I fit. If I’m a real Omega or just a broken woman pretending to be something she’s not. Maybe they need that proof before they can commit, before they can plan a future with someone who might not be able to give them what they need.
The thought makes me sick, but I can’t stop thinking about it.
I shake my head and gather the paperwork on my desk. I have a handover to do today, a major one. A beautiful ranch property on the edge of town that I just sold to a new family moving to the area. It’s one of the biggest sales I’ve ever closed, the kind of deal that should have me celebrating.
Instead, I just feel tired.
The drive to the ranch takes about twenty minutes, winding through the outskirts of Honeyspur Meadow where the houses thin out and the land opens up into rolling hills and pastures.
The afternoon sun is warm through my windshield, casting everything in golden light, but my mind stays loud with worry.
The ranch being sold appears around a bend in the road, and despite everything, my breath catches.
It’s stunning. A sprawling property with white fencing stretching as far as I can see, an oversized main house with a wraparound porch, several outbuildings, including what appears to be a stable complex, and acres of green pasture dotted with old oak trees.
The kind of place that belongs in a magazine.
I pull up the long gravel driveway, feeling professional and prepared.
Until I see the familiar vehicles already parked near the house.
My pulse jumps. Confusion first, then a quick spike of anger, because why are they here, and why do I feel like I’m about to get blindsided again?
I park my car and climb out, file folder tucked under my arm, trying to compose myself. All three of my Alphas are standing on the porch, watching me approach. Seth has his arms crossed, jaw set. Carter is leaning against a post, that easy smile playing at his lips. Kai is practically grinning.
“What are you doing here?” I demand, and I hate how my voice wavers. “This is a client meeting. I’m supposed to be handing over paperwork to the new owners.”
Seth pushes off the porch railing and walks toward me. His blue eyes are intense, locked on mine.
“We’re here to take our ranch,” he says simply. “Our home.”
The words don’t register at first, and my brain tries to correct them. Did I mishear him?
I blink, staring between the three Alphas as though I’m waiting for the punch line.
“What do you mean, our—” My voice cracks on the last word because something in my chest is already softening into hope despite my best efforts to protect myself.
It takes a few beats for the pieces to click into place. The paperwork in my hands. The address. The fact that I’m here to do a handover for a sale. And they’re standing on the porch like they own the place.
Because they must be the new owners.
My eyes sting, and I hate that my first instinct is still panic.
“Is this why you’ve been avoiding the conversation?” The words come out shaky. “I thought… I thought you were going to skip town on me.”
I try to laugh it off, but the sound is too honest. Too raw.
They just watch me.
“I thought maybe you were waiting,” I continue, and now I can’t stop, can’t keep the fear locked away where it belongs. “Maybe because I haven’t hit my heat yet. Perhaps you needed to see if I’m really… if I can really…” I can’t finish the sentence.
Seth’s face hardens with emotion, something fierce and protective flashing across his features. Carter’s eyes go sharp, all the easy humor draining away. And Kai is staring at me with so much love.
They close in on me immediately, all three of them. I’m wrapped in arms and warmth and the scent of them, and it’s impossible to pretend I’m fine.
“Listen to me.” Seth’s voice is low against my hair, steady in a way that doesn’t leave room for doubt. “We’re not waiting for anything or testing you. Or keeping our options open in case you don’t measure up to some bullshit biological standard.”
“You’re our Omega,” Kai adds, arms tight around my waist. His mouth brushes my temple, a touch that feels both soothing and possessive. “Heat or no heat. Now or never. We chose you, June. We’re already all in.”
Carter’s hand cups the back of my neck, warm and grounding. “Your heat will come when it comes,” he says. “And if it doesn’t, that’s okay too.”
That’s when I break. Proper, ugly crying, my face pressed into Seth’s shirt while everything I’ve been holding inside finally comes loose. All the fear. All the shame. All the stupid thoughts I’ve let fester in the dark.
“I thought…” I try to speak, and it comes out wrecked. “I thought you were going to leave.”
“If you ever think we’re leaving again,” Kai cuts in, pulling back just enough to look me in the eye, “I’m handcuffing myself to you. Permanently. We’ll sort out the logistics later.”
Carter snorts.
A laugh slips out of me. I hate how ridiculous I probably look, but the knot in my chest loosens anyway, just a fraction, enough that I can breathe.
Seth tilts my chin up, firm fingers making me meet his eyes. “We bought this ranch for us,” he says. “For our pack. For our family. We were trying to keep it quiet to surprise you, but clearly we’re terrible at surprises, because you thought we were planning to abandon you.”
“In our defense,” Carter adds, “we’ve never planned a surprise in our lives. We’re learning.”
“You’re awful at it,” I mutter, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand.
“Noted,” Kai says. “We’ll add it to the list.”
I pull back and look around the property with new eyes. It’s so beautiful that it doesn’t feel real but like something you drive past and admire, not something that could belong to me.
To us.
“Wait,” I whisper, the truth spreading through me in slow waves. “So this is… our home.”
They nod, all three of them watching me closely, faces open in a way that makes my chest ache.
And then the absurdity of it hits so hard I almost laugh again.
“I just sold us our own home,” I say, voice cracking.
“You did,” Kai confirms, grinning. “Extremely professional. Strong pitch. Ten out of ten. I felt emotionally manipulated in the best way.”
“Shut up,” I whisper, but I’m smiling through tears.
I flip through the documents with trembling fingers, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. “But the paperwork was under a different name. A company name.”
Seth nods. “Three Kings Group,” he says. “It’s the business entity we run together. We keep earnings, contracts, and investments under it, and it’s different from my dad’s.”
He pauses, then continues more carefully, as if he’s choosing each word for me. “We want to add you to it. Your name on everything. The ranch, the company, the future.” His gaze holds mine. “If that’s what you want.”
My hands shake as I reach for them, touching their arms, their chests, their faces, as if I need proof that they’re solid and here and not a dream I’ll wake up from.
“I can’t believe you did this for us,” I whisper. “So does that mean you’re settling down here in town?”