Chapter 17 #2
I jump, nearly knocking over my carefully arranged cups. Arrow has appeared beside me, silent as smoke despite being six feet, four inches of solid muscle.
“Crap! Bells! Wear bells or something!”
“Where’s the fun in that?” He’s watching his brother with an expression I can’t read. “That’s my brother, by the way.”
“I can see the resemblance.” Now that I know, it’s obvious. Same bone structure, same dangerous beauty. “He seems… nice. Helpful.”
Arrow groans, running both hands through his hair, and his biceps flex. My mouth waters. Literally waters. What is wrong with me?
“Yeah, that’s what everyone thinks at first. That’s what the judge thought too, right before Mack stole his gavel.”
“He stole a judge’s gavel?”
“During his own hearing. For stealing garden gnomes.”
“Oh, wow.”
“Forty-seven of them. From all over the county. He was building what he called an army of judgment in someone’s ex-girlfriend’s yard.
” Arrow is still watching Mack, who’s now carrying a keg on his shoulder while Harper makes appreciative noises that border on pornography.
“That was actually one of his tamer phases. The year before, he convinced half of Tucson he was a traveling priest and performed thirteen weddings.”
“Were they legal?”
“Fuck no. He was high on mushrooms for most of them.”
I can’t help but laugh. “You’re making this up.”
“I wish.” But he’s smiling now, that rare genuine grin that transforms his face from dangerous to devastating.
“Look, Mack’s… complicated. Good heart, terrible execution.
Like, historically terrible. Biblical-plague levels of terrible.
He’s trying to get his shit together, but he’s got a pattern.
Shows up, charms everyone, means well, then somehow you’re explaining to the cops why your car is in a pool and all the lawn flamingos in the neighborhood are arranged in a pentagram. ”
“That’s oddly specific.”
His expression darkens. “I left home when he was thirteen. Left him there with our parents, who thought beating the fear of God into kids was literally in the Bible. Every bad decision he’s made since then is partly on me.”
The pain in his voice hits harder than I expect. Before I can stop myself, I reach out and touch his arm. His skin is warm beneath my fingers, solid. The contact sparks something sharp and electric that shoots up my arm, but I don’t pull away.
“Arrow—” I start, but the name catches on something in my throat.
Because for the first time, I see not just the attitude and swagger he wears like armor, but also the damage underneath. Not so different from my own. We both come from houses where love was a weapon, not a shelter. Parents who knew how to tear us down better than anyone else ever could.
The realization steals my breath a little.
We’re more alike than I ever wanted to admit.
“Just tell Harper to be careful. Mack’s got a way of making you believe he’s changed right up until he proves he hasn’t. Usually explosively.”
Mack and Harper return, Mack carrying another keg like it weighs nothing. His shirt is fully untucked now, and Harper is touching his arm every three seconds as though she’s checking whether he’s real.
“Let’s go, Mack,” Arrow says, his tone suggesting this isn’t a request. “We’ve got prep work.”
“Already? But I just met this angel.” Mack grins at Harper, all dangerous charm.
“Now.”
The brothers stare at each other, some silent battle happening. Tension rolls off Arrow, Mack’s jaw working. Finally, Mack breaks.
“Nice meeting you, Harper.” He takes her hand and kisses it like some discount-romance-novel hero. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Count on it,” Harper purrs.
They leave, Arrow’s hand on Mack’s shoulder either guiding or restraining him. Harper fans herself with both hands.
“Did you see those abs? Those arms? That whole ‘I make terrible decisions and you can be one of them’ energy? And he’s a Beta like me. It’s perfect.”
“He’s Arrow’s brother. And Arrow says to be careful. Apparently, Mack has a complicated history involving theft, fraud, and lawn flamingos.”
She stares at me for a long moment. “Says the girl shacking up with three bikers who probably have actual body counts.” Harper grins wickedly.
“Touché.” I laugh despite myself. “You win. Go forth and make your own terrible decisions.”
“Planning on it. Mama needs a bad boy to ruin her credit score.”
“Harper!”
“What? I’m being honest about my goals.”
“Ladies!” a familiar male voice booms across the grass.
Garrett approaches with Ruby at his side, and they’re such a perfectly matched set that it aches in my chest. He’s all broad shoulders and brewery owner confidence, flannel and worn jeans.
Ruby is gorgeous in that effortless way that takes three hours, with reddish-blonde waves around her face, amber eyes bright with warmth, and curves that her sweater dress can’t hide.
They met at a beer festival, both showcasing their own brews, and somewhere between shared taps and friendly rivalry, things turned personal. Though neither likes to talk about how Ruby nearly lost the bar that her aunt left her to an asshole cousin.
“Boss man!” Harper salutes with a sample cup she pulls from nowhere. “And boss lady! Here to check that we’re not giving away all your beer to minors?”
“Here to enjoy the festival,” Garrett corrects, his arm around Ruby’s waist with casual possession. “Plus, Ruby wanted to check out the competition.”
“There’s a new brewery setting up?” I ask.
Ruby nods. “Saw two, actually.” Then she leans in, smiling. “So, Harper tells me you’ve got yourself three hot Alphas?”
Garrett chuckles under his breath.
I shoot a glare at Harper, who looks entirely unbothered. Of course she told people. She thrives on being the town’s unofficial PR machine.
“It’s nothing yet,” I say quickly, trying to wave it off.
Harper pretends to choke on air. “Sure,” she wheezes. “Absolutely nothing.”
Ruby laughs. “When I met Garrett, Knox, and Dominic, I tried to keep my distance too. But sometimes the universe doesn’t care how ready you are. When it’s your pack, it finds a way.”
I glance at the three men at the food truck, and my heart flutters. “How do you handle it?” I ask, glancing back her way. “The fear that it could all fall apart… or that you won’t be enough for all of them?”
Ruby considers that, her fingers absently twisting a lock of her hair.
“You don’t handle it like a problem,” she says gently. “You trust the bond you’re building and take it one day at a time. Communicate. Let them show up for you, and let yourself be seen, even when it’s messy. Especially when it’s messy.”
Her words settle deeper than I expect, quiet and sharp, like the truth always is.
Ruby bumps her hip lightly against mine. “You’ll get there. And hey, tomorrow night is ‘adults only’ at the festival. No kids, no rules, just costumes, drinks, and all the fun.”
Garrett sighs like he’s already resigned to it. “Mandatory costumes. The committee was very clear.”
“I’m definitely going,” Harper announces. “I already have my costume. Sexy witch, but like, actually sexy, not Spirit Halloween sexy.”
“I don’t have anything prepared?—”
“The guys will help,” Ruby suggests with a knowing smile. “Trust me, Alphas love dressing up their Omega.”
“We’re not—I’m not their?—”
“Yet,” Ruby interrupts. “You’re not their Omega yet. But, honey, the way they’re looking at you?”
I turn to glance at the food truck. All three of them have stopped working to stare at me. Luke is holding a spatula like he’s forgotten what it’s for.
My body responds instantly with heat flooding my system, skin hypersensitive, that telltale ache between my thighs that’s been getting worse all day. My heat is coming quicker than it should. And being surrounded by three Alphas who smell like everything I’ve ever wanted isn’t helping.
“You’re already gone on them, aren’t you?” Ruby asks me.
“Completely fucked,” Harper answers. “In the best way. Look at her. She’s practically vibrating.”
“I’m not?—”
“Your pupils are dilated, you keep rubbing your thighs together, and you’re producing enough pheromones to start a riot,” Harper lists clinically. “When’s your heat due?”
“Harper!”
“Okay, this is my exit time,” Garrett says and wanders to another booth.
“What? It’s a valid medical question.”
“Soon,” I admit quietly. “Maybe a week.”
Ruby’s lips pinch. “And you’re living with three unmated Alphas?”
“It’s fine,” I say quickly, maybe too quickly. “They have a heat room. It’s fully equipped. I’ll be fine.”
“A heat room,” Ruby repeats slowly. “That they built. For an Omega. That they’re now living with.”
“It came with the house,” I mumble, even though I’m not sure that makes it any better.
Ruby gives me a look that’s equal parts sympathy and girl, please . She pats my arm gently. “Cindy, just so you know, you’re playing with fire.”
I let out a breathy laugh, but my stomach twists. Because she’s not wrong. I’m practically curled up in the fire, pretending not to notice the burn.
“More like bathing in gasoline while juggling torches,” Harper adds cheerfully. “But in a fun way!”
I force a smile, but my thoughts are already spiraling. I don’t even know who I am when I’m in heat—what if I say something I can’t take back? What if I want things I shouldn’t?
What if they see the real me and don’t want me?
Ruby squeezes my hand like she can hear the thought as clearly as if I’d said it out loud. “It’ll be all right,” she says softly. “Just… don’t deny what’s inevitable. Sometimes fate doesn’t wait for permission.”
She offers a small smile, then glances over her shoulder. “I should go find Garrett before he accidentally adopts another lost tourist.”
I watch her disappear into the crowd, her presence lingering like comfort and warning all in one.
The evening crowd has started to thicken, laughter and music rising with the cool fall air. We get busy pouring samples, but I’m hyperaware of the mingling scents of Alphas all around me, the weight of three specific gazes that never seem to leave me.
A customer accidentally brushes my hand when I give him his sample, and I nearly moan. Just from a finger brush.
This is bad. This is very, very bad.
“You okay?” Harper asks during a brief lull.
“I’m…” I press the back of my hand to my forehead. I’m not feverish yet, but I’m warm. Too warm in a way that feels like a warning. “I think it might be sooner than a week.”
“How soon?”
“Days? Maybe less?”
“Holy shit,” Harper gasps.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen this fast,” I mutter. “It’s probably their scents triggering it early?—”
“You think?” Harper laughs, but it’s tinged with real concern now. “Babe, you need to talk to them. Like, actually talk to them. Before this turns into a meltdown with naked consequences.”
I look back at the food truck. Luke is juggling sauce bottles to entertain a couple of kids, his movements easy and playful. Arrow is focused, plating something that looks way too good for a food truck. And Holt… Holt is watching me like he already knows something is wrong.
As if sensing my stare, he sets down what he’s doing and starts walking over, and completely unreadable.
But before he reaches me, Harper gently grabs my arm and leans in close.
“Hey,” she says, voice soft but steady. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll see.”
I swallow hard.
“I’m serious,” she goes on. “I’m here for you, no matter what. But you’ve got to stop overthinking and start feeling. Focus on what they make you feel. That’s real. That’s what matters. And your mom?” She shrugs. “She’ll see it eventually. I feel it in my bones.”
I glance toward the truck again. Holt is still walking, his gaze never leaving mine. Luke is grinning at something Arrow said. And suddenly, the weight on my chest doesn’t feel so heavy.
Maybe she’s right.
Maybe it’s time to stop fighting every instinct and see where they take me.
Maybe for once it’s safe to let myself want something.
Maybe it’s not about surviving this time. Maybe it’s about choosing something that finally feels right.