Chapter 27 #2
Mid-thirties. Fit but soft. The kind of fit that comes from a gym membership and a personal trainer, not from actual physical labor. His posture is confident; he stands like someone who’s used to being the smartest person in the room, used to being listened to.
Used to being in control.
He gestures toward the house and unknowingly toward us, and even from here, I can read the dismissal in his body language.
He’s talking about us.
And not kindly.
My jaw tightens.
Beside me, Knox makes a low sound in his throat that’s barely human. “I’m going to kill him.”
“Not yet,” I say.
“Eli—”
“Not. Yet.”
But my control is slipping. I can feel it.
Because Julian is still talking, still gesturing, and Mia’s defensive posture is getting more pronounced. She’s pulling into herself, making herself smaller, and I can see the exact moment she starts to doubt.
Starts to wonder if maybe he’s right.
No.
Fuck this.
“Okay,” I say quietly. “Now we go.”
Declan goes out the front door first. He takes up position on the porch, arms crossed, watching. Knox slips out the back door, circling around through the yard. He appears near the property line, casual as fuck, like he just happened to be out for a walk.
I head straight for them, striding out the front door right behind Declan.
Rhys appears at Knox’s back, still holding the drill he’d been using on the steps. There’s grease on his hands again and something deadly in his eyes.
We surround Julian in complete silence.
Julian stops mid-sentence, his head swiveling as he suddenly realizes he’s boxed in. Him in his pressed khakis and leather loafers, and us in jeans and t-shirts that have seen better days, looking like we’re deciding the most efficient way to make a body disappear.
I watch Julian’s throat bob as he swallows.
Good. He should be nervous.
“Mia,” he says, his voice strained, eyes still darting between us. “Who are these people?”
I step forward, positioning myself slightly in front of Mia. She doesn’t need me to fight her battles, but I sure as fuck am making it clear where I stand.
Where we all stand.
“Her pack,” I say simply, my voice flat and emotionless. “And you are?”
He blinks, clearly thrown by the question. Like he expected to be recognized. “Julian. I’m—I’m an old friend. I came to check on Mia. I heard she was…seen out last night. With some people.”
The disdain in those last two words is palpable.
Some people.
Like we’re not worth naming. Like we’re beneath notice.
“You heard,” I repeat, my tone perfectly neutral. “How interesting. Since Mia’s social life is none of your business.”
“I’m just concerned.” Julian’s gaze slides to Mia, his expression shifting to something that’s supposed to look gentle. Caring. “Mia, you have to understand. I saw the photos on Le Roux Craft House social media. Someone tagged you. You with…them.”
He gestures at us like we’re something dirty she picked up off the street.
“These tech bros,” he continues, warming to his theme. “These…brutes. Mia, you’re a quiet girl. You don’t belong with them.”
The words land like a slap.
Tech bros. Brutes. You don’t belong.
I feel Knox tense behind me. Sense Rhys’s grip tightening on the drill. See Declan’s expression go absolutely arctic.
But I don’t move. Don’t react.
He has no idea what he’s just walked into.
Mia stiffens. “Excuse me?”
“I’m just saying,” Julian continues, apparently oblivious to the danger he’s in, “you wanted a quiet life, remember? A normal life. A safe life. These guys?” He waves vaguely at us.
“They’re not that. They’re a phase. A walk on the wild side.
But when you’re ready for something real, something stable—”
“Stop.”
Mia’s voice cuts through his monologue like a blade. Cold and sharp and absolutely done.
“Just stop,” she repeats.
Julian blinks, clearly not expecting resistance. “Mia, I’m only trying to—”
“To what?” Her voice is shaking now. With anger. “To save me? From what, exactly? From being happy?”
“That’s not—”
“I didn’t want safe, Julian.” She steps forward, and I move with her, staying close. “I wanted home.”
Pride surges through me, fierce and hot and absolutely feral.
That’s our girl. That’s our fucking girl.
But Julian, stupid bastard that he is, doesn’t take the hint.
He reaches for her arm, his expression shifting to something patronizing and concerned. “Mia, I’m just worried about you. You’re not thinking clearly. Let me help you—”
I move, stepping between them. My fingers wrap around his wrist, and I pull his hand away from her.
Our eyes meet.
“She’s not yours,” I say quietly, my voice the most level and reasonable I can manage. “Leave. Now.”
Julian’s face flushes. “I’m just trying to—”
“To what?” I don’t even raise my voice. I don’t need to. “To swoop in and save her from the big bad alphas?”
I tilt my head, studying him.
“Let me tell you what I see,” I continue, voice low.
Julian tries to yank his wrist free, but I just tighten my grip, holding him immobile.
“I see an alpha who was too lazy to love her properly,” I say stepping closer.
“You had her for two years, Julian, and you couldn’t be bothered to build a life with her because it looked like work. ”
I feel Mia’s gaze on me. Feel her surprise that I actually remember her talking about this. But of course I remember. Because the moment she told us about this dickwad I vowed that if he ever stepped back into her orbit, I’d be the one to burn him out of it.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about—” Julian tries to pull his arm back. I don’t let him. So fucking weak for an alpha.
I lean in, my patience all about spent. “You lost her because you’re too weak to hold a woman as great as her.”
The color drains from Julian’s face. Behind me, I feel the pack closing in.
Rhys is still holding that drill, a snarl on his face.
Knox has shifted his stance, weight on the balls of his feet, ready to move.
Declan has moved down from the porch to stand behind Mia.
But he is so utterly, perfectly still, it’s somehow more terrifying than if he were visibly angry.
I lean in slightly. “You’re about thirty seconds away from being escorted off this property by three alphas who are very, very protective of what’s theirs. And trust me, Julian, you really don’t want that to happen.”
He yanks his arm back, and this time I let him. “Mia, you can’t seriously think—”
“Leave,” Mia says, her voice clear and strong and absolutely certain. “I don’t want you here. I didn’t ask you to come. And I’m not the woman you thought you knew. I never was.”
“You’re making a mistake.”
“No.” She steps closer to me, and I feel her hand slip into mine. “I’m making the right choice. Finally.”
Julian looks between us, at Mia holding my hand, at the wall of pack behind her, at the complete lack of welcome in any of our expressions.
He’s smart enough to know when he’s lost.
“Fine,” he says stiffly, trying to salvage some dignity. “But when this implodes, and it will, don’t come crying to me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Mia says, and there’s steel in her voice that makes me want to kiss her senseless.
Julian turns on his heel and stalks back to his beige car. The engine starts with that same smooth, expensive purr, tires squealing on the asphalt as he floors the pedal.
We all stand there, a silent wall of pack, and watch until the car disappears around the corner.
The silence stretches.
Then Knox breaks it.
“I really, really hate that guy.”
“Get in line,” Rhys mutters, finally lowering the drill.
“Beige car,” Declan says with utter disgust. “Who the fuck drives a beige car?”
“Someone who thinks ‘safe’ is a personality trait,” I say dryly, still holding Mia’s hand.
She’s shaking. I can feel it thrumming through her, all that pent-up emotion looking for an outlet.
“I can’t believe he just showed up,” she says, her voice tight. “I can’t believe he thought—”
“That you’d go running back to him?” Knox finishes, moving closer. “Yeah. Guy’s delusional.”
“He called you brutes.”
“We are brutes,” Rhys says matter-of-factly. “Just not his kind of brute.”
“He called you tech bros,” Mia continues, and there’s a slightly hysterical edge to her laugh. “Like that’s an insult. You built a multimillion-dollar company from nothing. You’re brilliant. All of you.”
I think about what I would have done if Julian had pushed harder. If he’d tried to force the issue, tried to take her, tried to actually hurt her.
I would have buried him.
Not literally, probably not literally, but I would have destroyed him so thoroughly, so completely, that he’d wish I had.
The realization doesn’t scare me. It should, maybe. I’m the calm one. The reasonable one. The beta who handles things with logic and controlled emotion.
But when it comes to Mia, when it comes to this pack, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do.
I would burn the whole neighborhood down to keep her safe.
I would dismantle Julian’s entire life piece by piece if he ever came back.
I would do things that would horrify the man I used to be.
And I wouldn’t feel a single moment of regret.
The adrenaline is still humming under my skin, when I look at Mia. She’s still shaking, her scent spiked with distress and anger.
She needs grounding. We all do.
“Inside,” I murmur, turning her toward the door. “Now.”
She doesn’t argue.
We guide her into the living room, shutting the door on the world, on Julian, on the beige car and the judgment.
Knox locks it. The click is loud in the quiet house.
“You okay?” Rhys asks, his voice rough.
Mia lets out a shaky breath. “I…” She looks at us, eyes wide and vulnerable. “I hated him being here. I hated him looking at you guys like you were something bad.”
“He’s gone,” Declan says, stepping close to wrap his arms around her from behind, burying his face in her neck. “And he’s never coming back.”
“I need…” She trails off, leaning back into Declan’s hold, her breathing jagged. “I need to get his voice out of my head.”
The air in the room snaps tight.
I look at her. Really look at her. She’s flushed, adrenaline pumping through her veins just as hard as it’s pumping through mine. She looks like she wants to be claimed so thoroughly there’s no room left for the past.
“You want him out of your head?” I ask, my voice dropping.
Mia nods, and I step closer, invading her space until I’m towering over her.
“Good,” I murmur.
I look at Knox. At Rhys. At Declan. We don’t need to speak. The pack bond is singing with a single, violent purpose.
Julian wanted her quiet. He wanted her small. He wanted her contained in a beige box. I reach out, tangling my hand in her hair and tilting her head back until her throat is bared to me.
“He called us brutes,” I whisper against her skin, feeling her pulse flutter under my lips. “Maybe we should show you exactly what that means.”
I pull back just enough to see her eyes go wide.
“Upstairs,” I command. “We’re going to make you scream so loud you forget his fucking name.”