Chapter 24 #2
“None of us do,” he continues, his voice dropping lower, rougher. “You could’ve stayed in heat for another week, and we still wouldn’t have left you alone. You want to know why?”
I can’t speak. Can’t breathe. Can only stare up at him with my heart thundering against my ribs.
“Because the app will be there tomorrow,” Knox says, each word fierce. “The meetings will reschedule. The fires will get put out. But you?” His hand comes up to cup my jaw, tilting my face up. “You needed us. And there is nothing—nothing—more important than that.”
“Knox—”
“We’re not done, Mia.” His thumb brushes over my bottom lip, and his eyes are molten silver, burning with an intensity that steals the air from my lungs. “The heat is over. But we’re not. There is no ‘going back to normal.’ This is normal now.”
Behind him, Rhys makes a low sound of agreement. “He’s right. Get used to it.”
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, hot and humiliating. “You can’t just—you have work—”
“And we’ll do it,” Eli says, his voice calm and steady. “But not at the expense of you.”
I’m shaking now, my whole body trembling with the force of trying to hold myself together. “I don’t want to be a burden.”
Knox’s expression shatters.
His hands drop from the wall, and he steps back like I’ve struck him. The others go very, very still.
“A burden,” Declan repeats slowly, his accent thickening with emotion. “You think you’re a burden?”
“I’m just a bit…confused.” And hopeful. Far too hopeful but I can’t tell them that.
“I’m still chasing off heat hormones and I don’t know if you actually want me here, or if you’re just being nice because you feel responsible for what happened during the heat.
I don’t know if I’m your—your girlfriend, or your project, or just the neighbor you helped out of a jam. ”
Oh my God, did I really just say girlfriend? Out loud? Like we’re in high school? Heat floods my face, but I can’t take it back now.
The silence that follows is so complete I can hear my own heartbeat thundering in my ears.
Knox’s hand drops from the wall. He steps back, and the space between us feels suddenly vast.
“You think we’re doing this out of obligation?” His voice is quiet. Dangerous.
“I don’t know,” I say, and my voice cracks again. “I don’t know what you’re thinking. I don’t know if this is just—just cleanup. Making sure the omega next door doesn’t fall apart after her heat.”
“Mia—” Declan starts.
“You have lives. Real lives. A business. Responsibilities. I can’t keep being the reason you’re not working. So I’m going home, and you’re going to go back to normal, and—”
“There is no normal without you in it.” Rhys’s voice cuts through my words like a blade. He’s standing now, his dark eyes fixed on mine. “We tried that already. It sucked.”
“You barely know me,” I whisper.
“We know enough,” Knox says, his voice rough.
He moves closer again, but doesn’t touch me.
Doesn’t cage me in. Just stands there, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him.
“We know you stand at your window when you think no one’s looking.
We know you’ll lie to the HOA president to protect people you barely know.
We know you bake when you’re stressed, and you try to carry everything yourself until your legs literally give out.
” He leans down, catching my gaze. “And we know you taste like strawberries when you come apart.”
My breath hitches.
“We know you,” Eli says quietly from behind them. “And we want to know the rest. If you’ll let us.”
I stare at them, heart pounding. It’s too much. It’s everything I wanted, and it’s terrifying because I don’t know if I can trust it yet. My brain is still trying to catch up to my body.
“I…” I swallow hard. “I need a minute. I need to… decompress. Alone.”
The request hangs in the air.
Knox’s jaw tightens. Rhys looks like he wants to argue. But Eli steps forward, placing a hand on Knox’s shoulder.
“Okay,” Eli says. His gaze is steady on mine. “If you need space, you get space.”
“Just for a bit,” I add quickly, hating the disappointment flickering in Declan’s eyes. “I just need to…reset. In my own house. With my own coffee.”
“Fair enough,” Knox says, though he doesn’t look happy about it.
“We have a meeting anyway,” Declan lies smoothly, checking a watch he isn’t wearing. “Boring stuff. Tech specs. You’d hate it.”
I manage a small, grateful smile. “Probably.”
“I’ll walk you over,” Eli says, already heading upstairs for my weekender bag.
“It’s twenty feet.”
“Humor me.”
The walk across the lawn feels like crossing a continent.
Eli carries my weekender bag, moving at my pace as we traverse the short distance between their house and mine. The morning air is cool against my skin, carrying the scent of fresh-cut grass and late-blooming flowers. Sweet. Serene.
My heart is not.
When we reach my porch, he sets the bag down and checks my door lock automatically. Testing the handle. Making sure it’s secure.
“This isn’t us pushing you away,” he says quietly, his hand still on the doorframe. “You know that, right?”
“I know.” I take up the weekender, clutching the strap tight. “Go be a CEO, Eli.”
His mouth twitches. Almost a smile. “Call if you need anything.”
“I will.”
He hesitates for one more moment, like he wants to say something else. Then he nods and heads back across the lawn, his shoulders set with tension.
I watch until he disappears inside their house.
Then I unlock my door and step into mine.
The silence hits me like a wall.
The pack scent is gone.
I set my bag down and drift through the house, trailing my fingers over furniture that suddenly feels unfamiliar. This is what I wanted when I moved here. Peace. Quiet.
It feels like a museum. Beautiful and untouchable and achingly lonely.
I force myself to go through the motions. Make coffee. Open my laptop. Settle at my desk with my notes spread out around me.
But I can’t focus.
I keep reaching for a coffee mug that isn’t there. The one Declan always refills without asking. I keep waiting for Knox’s laugh, or the sound of Rhys’ deadpan remarks.
The silence is oppressive.
I check my phone. No texts yet. They’re probably in meetings, dealing with the crisis I kept them from for five days. But there are fourteen missed messages from Sierra.
Sierra (Five days ago): Mia? You alive?
Sierra (Five days ago, 8:00 AM): If you have been kidnapped by the hot neighbors, send a blink emoji.
Sierra (Five days ago): Stopped by your house and you weren’t there. Tracked your location and it says you’re at 126 Pine Lane. I won’t knock. Just gonna trust Pack Traynor is doing a good job.
Sierra (Yesterday): Hello?
Sierra (Today, 8:30 AM): If you don’t answer by noon, I am calling the police or driving down there.
I wince and type a quick reply.
Me: Alive. Safe. Will call when my brain is clear. Don’t drive down or call the cops.
I hit send, guilt twisting in my stomach.
I try to work. I really do. I send an email to my editor and attach the first half of the stuff she’s been waiting for.
Then I pull up a blank document to finish the rest. But the words won’t come.
My brain feels sluggish, wrapped in cotton, unable to focus on anything except the awful, echoing quiet of my house.
Three hours crawl by.
I manage to write maybe two paragraphs. Delete one. Rewrite it worse.
My coffee goes cold in the cup.
I’m colder than I’ve ever been. The house is the same temperature it’s always been, but I can’t seem to get warm. I pull on a sweater, then a second one, and still feel like I’m freezing from the inside out.
At 12:47, there’s a heavy knock at my door. My heart jumps into my throat.
I cross to the door and pull it open.
All four of them are standing on my porch.
They look stressed. Sleeves rolled up, hair messier than usual, laptops tucked under arms. Knox is carrying takeout bags. Declan has his backpack. Rhys is juggling three different chargers and laptops. Eli has a tray of coffee cups.
“Hi,” I say stupidly.
“Our internet’s down,” Declan says, not quite meeting my eyes.
“The coffee machine broke,” Rhys adds.
“I heard you use it this morning,” I say to him.
“It broke since then,” he lies smoothly.
Knox just looks at me, his slate-gray eyes steady and unflinching. “We can’t focus over there. It’s too quiet.”
“Can we come in?” Eli says quietly. “Please?”
I step back automatically, and they file past me into my house.
Knox heads straight for the dining table, Declan claiming one end, Rhys spreading out near the windows. Eli sets the coffee tray on the counter and starts distributing cups like he’s done this a hundred times.
“What are you doing?” I ask, still standing by the open door. “You have an entire office next door. With monitors and ergonomic chairs and—”
Eli sets his laptop down and turns to face me. “We tried working there. It didn’t work.”
“Why?”
“Apparently, the algorithm is broken without the Mia variable,” Declan calls from the table.
Knox moves toward me. He doesn’t stop until I’m backed up against the door frame, his hands braced on either side of me, caging me in without touching.
“Because you weren’t there,” he says, his voice low and rough.
My breath stalls. “That’s—”
“We’re working here,” Rhys says from the table, already plugging in his laptop. “Get used to it.”
I stare at Knox, at the intensity in his eyes, the way he’s looking at me like he’s replaying every single thing he did to me in their nest.
“I needed space,” I whisper.
“You have it,” he says. “We’re working. You’re working. We’re just doing it in the same room.”
“Knox—”
“Tell us to leave.” His voice drops even lower, vibrating in his chest. “If you really want us gone, say it. We’ll go.”
I open my mouth.
The words don’t come.
Because I don’t want them gone. I want them here, taking over my dining table and stealing my coffee mugs and filling my house with noise and life and warmth.
I want them here so badly it terrifies me.
“I can’t think when you’re this close,” I manage finally.
His grin is slow and devastating. “Good. Now sit down and let us work.”
He steps back, giving me room to breathe, and heads for the dining table where Declan is already deep in a video call.
I stand there for a moment, frozen and overwhelmed.
Then Eli appears at my side, pressing a coffee cup into my hands. “Extra cream,” he murmurs.
The simple gesture breaks something in me.
I take the coffee, close the door, and watch as they completely take over my space.
And for the first time all morning, I feel warm.
So much for boring.