15. Brookes #2
"You can come in now," I call out, knowing they're hovering just outside the door.
They always do during my sessions, never eavesdropping, but close enough that I could call if I needed them.
It's a dance we've perfected over months, whether I've had a session online or in person.
Their protective instincts balanced against my need for privacy, a delicate choreography of care.
The door opens and Levi's head pops in first, those warm brown eyes scanning my face with the gentle thoroughness that's become as familiar as breathing. "All good, Bloom?"
The nickname still makes something flutter in my chest, a small, tender sensation that unfurls like petals opening to sunlight. It's nothing like the panic that used to live there.
"Yeah. Come sit." I gesture at the chairs around me, suddenly craving their proximity after the emotional excavation of my therapy session.
They file in with the synchronicity of people who've learned each other's rhythms. Levi first, his massive frame somehow making the space feel more secure rather than smaller.
Then Hero, moving with that liquid grace, a steaming mug of tea cradled in his hands.
He always seems to know exactly what I need before I can articulate it.
Dante comes last, closing the door with a soft click and leaning against it, positioning himself between us and the outside world, green eyes alert but relaxed.
"You told him about the Delvecchi offer?
" Hero asks, placing the steaming mug in my hands.
Our fingers brush, and the contact sends a little spark through me, even now, two days after my heat ended.
The bond is still new, still raw and electric, like touching a live wire but in the most exquisite way possible.
I nod, wrapping my fingers around the warmth of the ceramic. "I'm going to do it."
The energy in the room shifts immediately, tangible as a change in atmospheric pressure.
Levi's face breaks into that sunshine smile, the one with the dimples that could power a small city, his joy radiating outward.
Hero's eyes widen just a fraction, so subtle anyone else would miss it, but I've learned to read the subtle expressions that betray his carefully maintained composure.
Dante pushes off the door and crosses to me in three purposeful strides, the floorboards barely creaking under his weight.
He kneels in front of my chair, those green eyes fierce and serious, bringing himself down to my level in a way that makes my heart constrict.
"You're sure? Because if you're not, we tell them to fuck off.
Simple as that." His voice is low, a rumble that promises both violence and absolute protection.
I laugh, the sound surprising even me with its lightness. "Yes, I'm sure. Dr. Kendrick thinks it's a good step." I reach out, touch his face, feeling the slight rasp of stubble against my palm. "And I trust you'll be there."
"You're cute. You know we've got your six," Hero confirms, perching on the arm of my chair, his solid presence a comforting weight beside me. "Every step."
"Front row, back row, up top, all around," Levi adds, sitting cross-legged on the floor like the giant puppy he sometimes reminds me of, despite being one of the most lethal men I've ever met.
"Actually. . ." I take a deep breath, gathering my courage. "I want Charlotte and her pack there as well."
Dante's eyebrows shoot up, surprise flashing across his usually controlled features.
"It's never been done before," I continue, words tumbling out faster now.
"Usually, it's just the designer and the stylists backstage.
You three are a given. But I'm not doing it without all of you.
Not negotiable." I lift my chin slightly, feeling the strength of my conviction solidify as I speak it aloud.
The look that passes between them is something I'm still learning to read, this silent Alpha communication that seems to transcend words. A complex language of minute shifts in posture, subtle changes in scent, and barely perceptible expressions.
"We'll make it happen. We'll talk to Teagan and Charlotte as soon as possible," Dante says finally, voice firm with that don't-argue tone that used to irritate me but now just feels like safety.
"What changed your mind?" Hero asks quietly, his hand finding the nape of my neck, thumb tracing small circles that make me want to purr, to melt into his touch like warm honey. The contact grounds me, anchors me to the present when memories threaten to pull me under.
I think about how to answer. How to explain that something fundamental has shifted in me, a tectonic movement beneath the surface of who I am.
"During my heat. . ." I start, then stop, embarrassed despite everything we've shared, the most intimate parts of ourselves laid bare.
"When I was at my most exposed self, my weakest, you three made me feel invincible.
Not weak. Not broken." I swallow hard against the emotion building in my throat.
"If I can be that naked with you, maybe I can stand in front of the cameras again. "
Levi makes a soft sound, reaching for my hand, his palm engulfing mine completely. "Brookes. . ." His voice carries a wealth of emotion, thick with things unsaid.
"No, let me finish," I whisper, needing to get this out. "When I was taken, they tried to erase me. Make me invisible. Small. And for a while, I let them win." I look at each of them in turn, meeting their eyes deliberately. "But this, us, it's made me want to be seen again. On my terms."
Dante's hand covers mine where it rests on his cheek, his touch both gentle and fierce. "Then we make sure it happens on your terms. No compromises."
"And if anyone so much as looks at you wrong—" Hero starts, that dangerous edge creeping into his voice that reminds me these men aren't just my lovers but my protectors.
I laugh again, leaning into him, feeling the solid warmth of his body against mine. "Please don't murder anyone in the fashion industry, I still need to work in it."
"No promises," Levi grumbles, but he's smiling too, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that makes my heart feel too big for my chest.
There's a moment of comfortable silence. Then I say what I've been avoiding all morning. "I told Dr. Kendrick about us. That we're a pack now."
Their collective attention sharpens, focused entirely on me. It used to make me nervous, having three Alphas zeroed in on me. Now it makes me feel anchored, rooted to something real and solid when so much of my life has felt like shifting sand.
"And?" Dante prompts, his green eyes steady on mine, searching for any sign of distress.
"And he thinks it's good. Healthy." I shrug, trying for casual and probably failing miserably. "Said I'll be stronger for it. Now that I've found my family. That it's a sign of healing, not weakness like I worried."
Hero's fingers drift to the mark at the juncture of my neck and shoulder, his mark, stroking it gently.
The touch sends a shiver down my spine, that pleasant warmth that radiates whenever any of them touches the places they've claimed.
"We're all stronger for it, Heart," he murmurs, his hazel eyes soft in a way reserved only for private moments.
"I was scared," I admit, voice low, barely audible even in the quiet room. "That first night of my heat, when I asked you all to stay. I thought maybe it was just biology. Just Omega neediness. That you'd regret it when the pheromones cleared."
"It wasn't," Levi says firmly, his deep voice brooking no argument. His warm vanilla scent wraps around me like a physical embrace.
"I know that now." I look up at them, these three men who've somehow become my whole world when I wasn't looking. "We've been circling each other for months, haven't we? Since Paris."
Dante's lips quirk up, that rare half-smile that transforms his stern face. "Before Paris."
"Houston, when we moved you out of the apartment you shared with Charlotte," Hero corrects quietly, his fingers still making those soothing circles against my mark. "At least for me. When you were sorting through photos and laughed for the first time since the attack."
My heart stutters, a painful squeeze in my chest. "That long? You never said anything."
Levi shrugs, those broad shoulders lifting in that casual way that belies the weight of his words. "Some things you just know, Bloom. Even when you're fighting it. We all knew you weren't ready. Couldn't push."
I did fight it. God, how I fought it. Kept them at arm's length, bristled at their protectiveness, told myself they were just doing their job, that I was just a paycheck and an obligation—but being a paycheck didn’t explain the way Dante held me on nightmare nights, his strong arms a fortress against the dark.
Obligation didn’t drive Hero to memorize how I take my tea, or Levi to leave those little notes in my pockets when I was having a bad day.
"I'm still figuring out how this works," I admit, gesturing vaguely between the four of us. "The four of us. I've never. . .there's no manual for this. No precedent in my life. Nothing stable to compare it to."
"Neither have we," Dante says simply, his cedarwood scent deepening with his sincerity. "Like we said before we agreed to this, we'll learn together. Make our own rules."
Hero's fingers slide into my hair, massaging gently at the base of my skull where tension always gathers. "One day at a time. No rushing."
"Starting with New York," Levi adds, squeezing my hand, his palm engulfing mine completely. His dimples appear with his encouraging smile. "Show the world the Brookes Daniels we get to see. The one who's stronger than he knows."
I lean into their touch, their words, their presence. For the first time in my life, I don't feel like I'm performing. Just being. Just Brookes, not the glossy magazine version or the broken victim or the abandoned son. Just me, with all my jagged edges and healing wounds.
"You know Charlotte's going to freak out when she hears I'm coming back to New York and New York Fashion Week," I say, trying to lighten the moment before I start crying. Again. These men have seen me cry more than anyone in my life, and somehow that hasn't scared them away.
"Already texted her," Hero admits without an ounce of shame, his expression completely unapologetic.
I twist to look at him, mock outrage on my face. "Traitor. Going behind my back to my best friend?"
"Efficient," he corrects with that quiet confidence, dropping a kiss on my forehead, his lips lingering just a moment. "You'd have spent three days working up the courage to tell her."
"She's flying back from a mission," Dante adds, standing and pulling me up with him, his movements fluid and coordinated with mine like we've been dancing together for years. "Said, and I quote, 'Try and fucking stop me from showing up and showing out for my Brookie'."
I laugh, imagining her fierce face and take-no-prisoners attitude, the way she's always been my fiercest defender. "Sounds like Char. Subtle as a sledgehammer."
"Family's important," Levi says simply, rising to his full height, towering over me with that protective presence that never feels threatening. "And she's your family. Has been through everything."
The word hits me square in the chest. Family.
I had one once, blood and bone, that threw me away like I was nothing when I didn't meet their Alpha expectations.
Then I found Charlotte, my sister in all the ways that matter, who never once made me feel less for being a male Omega.
Now these three men, this pack that chose me as deliberately as I chose them, against all odds and expectations.
"Yeah," I whisper, letting myself be folded into their arms, their scents mingling with mine until it becomes something new, something whole. "Yeah, she is."
So are you, I think but don't say. Not yet. The words still feel too fragile, too precious to risk.
The way they hold me tighter though, their bodies creating a fortress around mine, I think they hear it anyway.