Chapter 15
Fifteen
KIERAN
Silence fills the room after my outburst.
I feel bad as my brothers look at me accusingly, like I’m taking away their happiness.
“You’re being unreasonable,” Elias says finally, his voice calm but undercut with steel. “And you know it.”
I run a hand through my hair, pacing the length of the library like a caged animal. The scent of her is still all over them.
“She’s been here for one day,” I growl, trying to maintain some semblance of rationality. “One. Fucking. Day. And all three of you have already—” I can’t even finish the sentence, the thought of what they’ve done with her sending another surge of possessive rage through my body.
“I feel like we’ve waited long enough. The pack isn’t balanced,” says Drake.
“It is.”
“And if you try to send her away,” he continues, his green eyes flashing with determination. “I’m gone too.”
The declaration hits me like a punch to the gut. “What did you say?”
“You heard me,” Drake’s voice drops lower, deadly serious now. “I’ll leave the pack. Start my own.”
“You’d break pack over this?” I ask, disbelief coloring my voice.
“In a heartbeat,” he responds without hesitation.
I look to Rowan and Elias, searching for any sign that Drake is bluffing, that he’s speaking out of turn. But their expressions confirm his sentiment—resolute, unflinching loyalty to the idea of having Francine as our omega.
Fuck. This is worse than I thought.
I move to my desk, bracing my hands on the cool mahogany surface as I try to think clearly through the haze of alpha pheromones filling the room. We’re all on edge, my brothers radiating challenge while I struggle to maintain dominance without causing irreparable damage to our pack bonds.
“She already has a hold on all of you,” I observe, my voice carefully neutral.
“Yes,” Elias agrees simply. “She does.”
But I can’t just give in. I have Nora to think about. The pack’s stability. Our business. Our future.
“Even if…and this is a big fucking if—I were to consider this,” I say slowly. “What makes you think she’d want to be our omega? She came here for a job, not to be claimed by us.”
Drake’s mouth curves into a knowing smirk. “Trust me, she’s interested.”
The implication in his tone makes my jaw clench, but I force myself to breathe through the anger. Fighting amongst ourselves won’t solve anything.
“I need time,” I say finally. “I need to think this through.”
“There’s nothing to think about,” Drake argues hotly, but Elias places a restraining hand on his shoulder.
“Time is reasonable,” Elias concedes.
I nod stiffly. “I’ll...try to get to know her. See if she’s…” I say. “If she’s right for our pack.”
My brothers exchange glances, a silent communication passing between them. Finally, they each give me terse nods of agreement as they leave through the library doors.
The library door closes behind them, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the lingering scent of cherry blossoms that seems to have permeated every corner of our home.
I remain there for several minutes, trying to sort through the tangled mess of emotions churning inside me.
Anger at my brothers for leading her on.
Fear of what bringing an omega into our pack might mean.
And beneath it all, a persistent, burning desire for Francine that I can’t seem to extinguish, no matter how hard I try.
Eventually, I leave the library, needing space to clear my head.
The house is quieter now, the tension of our confrontation fading into the background hum of the estate.
Hearing light laughter, I walk into the family room.
I pause in the doorway, watching unseen as Francine sits with Nora at the coffee table.
My sister’s wild curls bounce as she gestures animatedly, explaining something in her homework while Francine listens with genuine interest, a warm smile lighting up her face.
“No, see, you have to carry the one,” Nora insists, pointing at the paper with the serious concentration of an eight-year-old who’s just learned something new.
Francine laughs, the sound light and musical. “You’re right. I can’t believe I missed that. You’re so smart, Nora.”
Nora beams under the praise, sitting up straighter, her chest puffing out with pride. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen her so engaged with schoolwork, so happy to be learning.
Something shifts inside me as I watch them together. Francine isn’t just good with Nora—she’s good for Nora. My sister needs this kind of gentle guidance, this feminine energy that none of us can provide, no matter how hard we try.
And suddenly I’m faced with the undeniable truth that firing Francine would hurt Nora deeply. She’s already attached, already opening up to this woman in a way she hasn’t with the string of previous nannies and caretakers.
I step into the room, clearing my throat to announce my presence.
Both heads turn toward me, and the contrast in their reactions are very different.
Nora’s face lights up with a smile while Francine’s expression immediately closes off, fear flashing in her eyes before she masks it with a polite smile.
That flash of fear bothers me more than it should. I don’t want her to be afraid of me.
“Kieran!” Nora exclaims, jumping up to hug my legs. “Francine is helping me with my math. Did you know she’s super good at fractions? And she gave me apple slices that look like bunnies!”
I ruffle her hair affectionately. “That sounds great. How’s the homework coming along?”
“It’s excellent,” Francine answers before Nora can, her voice soft and carefully neutral. “Nora’s quite bright. She’s picked up the concept very quickly.”
Our eyes meet over Nora’s head, and I’m struck again by how green hers are—vibrant like spring leaves in sunlight. She’s the first to look away, her cheeks flushing slightly as she begins gathering up the scattered papers on the coffee table.
“Actually,” I say, making a split-second decision, “I was wondering if you might join me for dinner tonight, Francine.”
The pencil she’s holding freezes mid-air, her eyes widening in surprise. “Dinner?”
“But Francine is helping ME,” Nora protests immediately, her bottom lip pushing out in a pout. “She promised to help me make a packing list for my camping trip. And we’re going to have spaghetti for dinner.”
I crouch down to Nora’s level, smoothing back her unruly curls. “I’m sure Elias would be happy to help you with your packing list. And you can still have spaghetti. I just need to borrow Francine for a little while.”
Nora crosses her arms, unconvinced. “Why can’t you talk to her here?”
“It’s grown-up stuff,” I explain, which is technically true.
“But I want Francine,” she whines, her fingers clutching at the hem of Francine’s shirt possessively.
I hadn’t anticipated this level of attachment already. It’s both heartwarming and concerning. “Nora, Francine will be back. I promise.”
“It’s okay, Nora,” Francine interjects gently. “We can finish your packing list tomorrow, and it will be even better because we’ll have more time to think about it.”
Nora’s frown deepens, but she’s running out of arguments. “Promise you’ll come back?”
“Of course I will,” Francine assures her, tucking a stray curl behind Nora’s ear with such natural affection that it makes my chest tighten strangely.
“Fine,” Nora huffs finally. “But I want Elias to read me two stories tonight. Not just one.”
I can’t help but smile at her negotiation tactics. “Deal. Now go find him and tell him I sent you.”
Nora gives Francine one last, lingering hug before scampering off, her footsteps thundering up the stairs as she shouts for Elias.
And suddenly it’s just the two of us, the air between us thick with unspoken tension. Francine remains seated on the floor beside the coffee table, looking small and uncertain. I extend my hand to help her up without thinking.
She hesitates for a moment before placing her hand in mine.
Her fingers are slender, cool to the touch, and soft against my calloused palm.
The moment we connect, a current of electricity shoots up my arm, making the hair at the nape of my neck stand on end.
Her touch ignites something primal in me, something I’ve been fighting since the moment I first scented her.
She stands before me, and she’s close enough that I can catch the faint hint of cherry blossoms that escapes her scent blockers.
Francine seems to sense the change in me, her pupils dilating slightly as she takes a small step backward, her hand slipping from mine. She tucks a strand of red hair behind her ear, a nervous gesture that emphasizes the elegant line of her neck.
That would be the exact spot that I would mark her if she were mine.
“What’s the dinner for?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
“It’s an appreciation dinner,” I say, the lie coming easily. “For helping with Nora. I can see she’s already quite attached to you.”
Francine nods, not looking entirely convinced. “That’s very kind of you. But it’s really not necessary. I’m just doing my job.”
“I insist,” I say, my voice firmer than intended. I soften my tone. “Please. It would mean a lot to me. Consider it an apology for what happened today.”
She pauses, studying my face for a few seconds. “Alright. When should I be ready?”
The restaurant is filled with the sounds of clinking crystal and elegant music playing over the speakers. Francine sits across from me, looking nervous and also very elegant. Her fork moves in small, precise bites as she samples the beef carpaccio with truffle aioli and microgreens.
The black dress she wears clings to her curves, making my mouth go dry. It’s clearly a bit too small for her now, the fabric stretched tight across her breasts, revealing the delicate swell of her cleavage. The sight is making it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything else.