Chapter Five
Frankie
I wake up in a pile of trauma-soaked blankets that smell very much like several large men with complex emotional issues and not a single healthy coping mechanism between them.
My first conscious thought is: did someone put a hoodie on me while I slept?
My second thought is: if it was Theo, I’m burning it.
After I roll around in it. But then I’m definitely burning it.
The nest across the room has evolved. It has now acquired one oversized hoodie and two aggressively fluffed pillows. There’s a lavender sachet on the nightstand that I just know Finn snuck in here along with a vanilla-flavoured protein bar; and—
Wait. What the fuck is that ?!
I squint at it, frowning.
Is that… a gecko ?
More specifically, a knitted gecko?
It’s bright blue, lumpy, and wearing a tiny scarf, with googly eyes that have been hot-glued on. The tag on its belly says “HUG ME, I’M REGULATED.”
I scream internally. This is either the beginning of a coordinated bonding attempt, or the worst group project in omega care history.
Either way, in my move to Alderbridge, I’ve somehow managed to acquire four rugby-playing alphas and one horrifying crochet lizard.
I sit up slowly, limbs aching from all the twisting and turning in my sleep. My hair is doing things, but my inner thighs are doing more. All the while, I can’t help but wonder what the etiquette is for waking up in a house with four alphas I barely know after fainting on them twice and having a full-body meltdown over their looming presence.
Do I write a thank-you note? Bake a casserole?
Or do I just walk into the nearest lake?
I try and make myself somewhat presentable before I crack the bedroom door carefully and cautiously, as though maybe, just maybe, the house won’t notice I’m trying to sneak out.
I immediately trip over Finn, curled up outside my door like a six-foot golden retriever with a pastel colored thermos and no boundaries.
He was fast asleep, but he stirs slightly at the disruption and lets out a soft, dreamy sigh.
“ She deserves a warm beverage and a gentle schedule …”
I slap a hand over my mouth to keep from making a sound.
After all, I cannot be the omega who accidentally wakes one of her emotional support alphas by stepping on his thermos.
I lift one foot, and balance mid-air.
I step. Pause. Sweat. Doubt every decision I’ve ever made. Then step again.
Finn shifts, and I stop breathing.
“Structure and snacks… ” he mumbles, clutching the thermos tighter.
I lunge forward and just about manage to land silently without waking him. I take a moment to steady my breathing, then shuffle down the rest hallway, taking in the house properly now that I’m upright and catastrophe-free.
It’s… A mess. A charming, mismatched, testosterone-saturated mess.
I pass what I come to realize is Theo’s door, which is open— obviously . It smells like cologne and bad decisions, and there’s a suspicious pair of boxers hanging from the door handle.
I pretend I don’t see them.
Directly across the hall, Finn’s room is glowing with a soft lamp and the energy of someone who writes affirmations on his mirror in dry-erase marker. It’s neat and tidy and organized, and perfect for him.
I head down the stairs as quietly as I can, straight into the living room that looks very much like an ad for What Happens When You Let Four Alphas Furnish Without Supervision. There’s two leather couches, a worn armchair, weights under the coffee table, and rugby balls in places rugby balls should never be.
The kitchen’s straight ahead; blessedly empty and mostly clean. It smells like burnt toast and protein powder, but hey—small wins. I step inside and glance out of the huge window that overlooks the backyard, noting that despite the early hour, Jax is there, doing pull-ups.
On a tree.
I raid the cupboards for something to eat—something not made of protein powder or chicken—when something catches my attention. My shoulders stiffen, and my eyes narrow.
And sitting on the counter like a glittering beacon of emotional violation is my mug. Not just any mug, either: my comfort mug . My emotional support chalice. It’s pink and ceramic, with Not Today, Satan written across it in gold sparkles.
“What. The. FUCK?! ”
I know it before I even reach it: my precious mug has been scented.
No: it's been alpha-bombed.
“Frankie!” Finn skids into the kitchen moments later, all wide-eyed and parted lips. “Are you okay?! What happened?!”
“No, I’m not okay!” I hold the mug aloft. “Someone scented my drinkware , Finn!”
He gasps, and looks genuinely heartbroken.
“It wasn’t me, I swear ! I only scented the dish towels!”
“THE DISH TOWELS?!”
“Jax said it would help you feel secure!”
“Jax hasn’t said more than fifteen words to me!”
Right on cue, the back door creaks open, and Jax steps inside, shirtless, sweaty, and holding… a chair.
A whole-ass, hand-carved wooden chair.
He doesn’t speak. Just sets it down by the kitchen table and gestures toward it like it’s a sacrifice to the omega gods.
I blink at it. Then at him.
Then at the chair again.
“…Did you just… make that ?”
“It’s ergonomic,” he nods, then disappears into the living room without another word.
The chair remains.
I squint my eyes, looking at it a little closer. It’s not just a chair: there’s actual, real detail there - it has little carved wolves on the legs, and one of them is… smiling ? Another is howling at a crescent moon that is very clearly a rugby ball.
“See?” Finn beams at it. “We’re all trying so hard!”
I gesture vaguely toward the chair. “He… whittled me furniture.”
“I know,” Finn nods. “It’s his version of a cuddle.”
It’s then that Theo wanders in, his dark hair a tousled mess of bad decisions and better genetics.
“What’s all the yelling?” he mumbles, scratching his perfectly honed abs. “Are we finally voting someone off the island?”
“Someone scented my mug.”
He steps in close, bends down toward it, and sniffs while I stubbornly keep hold of it.
“Oh yeah. That’s definitely Rory.”
“How do you know?”
“Because it smells like dominance issues and unresolved rut tension,” Theo grins.
Rory enters the kitchen half a beat later. He doesn’t so much as look at me as he heads straight for the toaster.
“Rory,” I say his name through gritted teeth. “You scented my mug .”
He places bread in the toaster, presses the buttons down, and only then does he speak.
“It was clean.”
“What, and that’s an issue?!”
“Frankie, come on ,” Theo holds up a piece of bread like it’s a peace treaty. “We’rea bunch of alphas nesting you by committee. It’s going about as well as you’d expect.”
I drop onto the kitchen island stool and rest my forehead against the cool surface.
Enter Finn, warm and gentle as he slides a plate toward me. “Here. Have some banana bread,” he says softly. “It’s hormone-stabilizing.”
I stare at the bread. I have to admit, it smells divine .
“It has almond flour, and walnuts, too,” he adds.
Theo drops into the seat beside me, sprawling wide, all smug grin and predatory lounge.
“I don’t bake,” he announces, flexing his hands, “but I do emotionally sabotage and then apologize via neck rubs.”
I blink at his hands. Then blink again.
My god: they’re huge .
Jax returns to the room and sets a mason jar of lemon water in front of my plate. “Hydration,” he says.
That’s it. Just hydration .
My chair creaks slightly, and I take a bite of the banana bread to distract myself from the realization that I am completely surrounded. My eyes flutter to a close as soon as it hits my tongue. It’s stupidly good; all soft and sweet and full of sincere intentions.
“I hate all of you,” I mumble through a mouthful.
“You don’t mean that,” Finn laughs.
Jax leans against the counter, his muscular arms folded. “How are you feeling this morning?”
Wow. He can speak in a full sentence after all. Who knew?
“Fine.” I clear my throat as four sets of eyes turn toward me. “Totally fine. Super stable. Not feral at all, actually.”
“You sure?” Theo raises a brow. “Because I could have sworn I heard you growl at a sock last night.”
“Alright, so maybe I’m a little scent sensitive at the moment. I just… I’ve never reacted like that before.”
“You sure it’s not because your heat’s coming?” Rory asks.
The banana bread turns to dust in my mouth.
“I’m certain,” I tell him. “I mean it. I was just overwhelmed. Probably because of all the stress. And the... testosterone fog that lives in this house.”
Theo tilts his head, eyes narrowing like he’s seeing right through me.
“Or maybe,” he says slowly, “you’re not overwhelmed. Maybe you’re just... reacting to us .”
“What, because you’re all so aggressively alpha?” I laugh, weak and high-pitched. “Yeah. I’m sure it’s that, Theo.”
“ No ,” he smirks, dragging out the word. “Because our scent matches.”
“Okay, calm down, Pheromone Destiny,” I scoff. “I barely know your names—I’m not about to roll over and start bonding like I’m a rescue omega looking for a forever pack.”
Theo grins. “ Yet .”
You know what? It’s too early for this. I’m not entertaining it.
“I need caffeine,” I declare. “And a therapist. Possibly at the same time.”
Finn pats my hand gently. “We can make you tea and set up a group therapy session with Dr. Barley. He’s a licensed counselor and also owns three alpacas.”
I want to ask more about Finn’s experience with Dr. Barley, but then Jax places a spoon down on the counter before me.
“Ah… why do I need a spoon?” I ask him, eyeing it like it might be a trap.
“For the yogurt I’m about to get you,” he says simply, already walking away.
No further explanation, and no unnecessary words from this alpha—just actions.
Honestly? It’s unsettlingly effective.
What’s more unsettling is the fact that despite my irritation… I might actually be starting to like them.
Which is, quite frankly, terrifying.
And possibly diagnosable.