Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
TRINITY
I snap awake with a gasp, momentarily disoriented by the unfamiliar ceiling. My body feels deliciously sore, memories of Cash, Lucas, and Matheo’s hands on me flooding back in vivid detail. The sheets tangle around my waist, warm from our bodies.
But something’s missing. Someone’s missing.
Kyren.
I sit up slowly, scanning the darkened room. Lucas sprawls on his back, one arm flung over Cash who’s curled against his side. Matheo lies on the far edge, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. But no sign of Kyren.
I strain my ears, listening for any movement in the suite. The silence feels heavy, almost oppressive. Did he come back at all after dinner? The memory of his eyes on me while Matheo and I were together yesterday sends a shiver down my spine—not unpleasant, but complicated.
Carefully, I slip from the bed, grabbing Matheo’s discarded shirt from the floor and pulling it over my naked body. It falls to mid-thigh, even my heat suppressants not enough to miss his faint scent enveloping me as I pad quietly toward the door.
I tell myself I’m just making sure Kyren is okay, that I’m concerned as I would be for any of them. But the tightness in my chest suggests something deeper. Something I’m not ready to examine too closely.
The main living area is empty, moonlight spilling through the sliding doors of the empty lanai. I check the second bathroom, finding nothing but silence. A quick glance at the clock shows it’s just past three a.m..
Did I scare him away entirely?
Maybe this arrangement turning physical is such a turn-off that he decided to leave and go back home.
If he’d wanted me in that way, then he wouldn’t have declined further heat-breaking sessions.
Maybe Kyren is so disgusted by me that a free vacation and a nice paycheck aren’t enough to make him pretend otherwise.
I try to ignore the way my heart aches at the thought.
But I really just need to know.
My bare feet are silent against the stone walkways. Palm trees sway overhead, their fronds rustling in the gentle night breeze. The sound of waves crashing against the shore is all that breaks the deadened night.
As I survey the deserted lobby, I consider stopping at the front desk to ask if Kyren has checked out, but the concierge desk is empty. I pause, unsure where to go next, when I catch it—faint but distinct—the delicate notes of a piano melody drifting through the still night air.
I slip through the open doors of the ballroom. The cavernous space is dark except for a single spotlight illuminating the grand piano on the small stage at the far end. Kyren sits there, his profile sharp in the dramatic lighting, fingers dancing across the keys with surprising grace.
I hang back in the shadows, not wanting to interrupt. There’s something mesmerizing about watching him when he doesn’t know I’m here—something raw and vulnerable in the way his body sways slightly with the music, how his eyes close during particularly emotional passages.
The melody builds, growing more complex, layers of notes weaving together before gradually slowing, becoming simpler, softer. The last note hangs in the air, sustained by the pedal, then slowly fades into silence.
I hold my breath, frozen in place by the beauty of what I’ve just experienced.
Without looking up from the piano, Kyren’s voice cuts through the darkness. “What are you doing up, Trinity?”
His tone isn’t accusatory, just quiet, almost resigned. I take a step forward, moving into the dim light.
“I could ask you the same thing,” I say, my voice echoing off the high ceiling.
Kyren’s fingers hover over the keys, not quite touching them. “Couldn’t sleep.”
I move closer, drawn to him despite my better judgment. “That was beautiful. What was it?”
“Something I’ve been working on.” His eyes finally lift to mine, and even in the low light, I see the intensity in them. “Nothing finished yet.”
I stop at the edge of the stage, acutely aware that I’m wearing nothing but Matheo’s shirt. “I noticed you weren’t there. In the room.”
A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “Yeah, well. Seems like you had plenty of company.”
The words should sting, but there’s no bite to them, just a quiet acceptance that makes my chest ache more than any accusation could.
“Kyren, about yesterday morning—” I begin, but he shakes his head, cutting me off.
“It’s fine.” His fingers press a single key, the note hanging between us. “We really don’t need to talk about it.”
Feeling defeated, I start to turn away. Then, a flash of annoyance gets the better of me. I’ve never shied away from tough conversations, and I’m not about to start now. If Kyren was just good at pretending to want me, then I want to hear him come out and say that.
“No,” I say firmly, spinning back around. “Actually, we do need to talk about it.”
Kyren’s fingers freeze over the keys. His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t look up.
“You were my heat-breaking alpha six months ago. And now you’re pretending we never met.” I step closer, my borrowed shirt brushing against the stage. “I called the agency three times trying to book you again, but they said you specifically requested not to see me. Why?”
The silence stretches between us, taut and heavy. Just when I think he won’t answer, he sighs, shoulders slumping.
“Because I broke the cardinal rule,” he says, finally meeting my eyes. “I got attached.”
My breath catches. “What?”
“You were supposed to be just another client.” His fingers press random keys, discordant notes punctuating his words.
“But then you started humming that stupid Taylor Swift song, and talking about your business with such passion, and I couldn’t—” He stops, raking a hand through his messy hair. “I couldn’t keep it professional.”
I stand frozen, processing his words. All this time I thought he’d rejected me because I wasn’t enough, when actually...
“So you ran,” I whisper.
“This isn’t a fairy tale, Trinity.” His voice hardens as he stands abruptly from the piano bench. “Heat-breakers aren’t successful alphas looking for their dream omega. We’re the leftovers. The ones who aren’t good enough to form real packs or genuine relationships.”
I step back, surprised by his vehemence. “The others came to me through the agency, too.”
“Not as heat-breakers. And do you really think Matheo, Lucas, and Cash are the norm?” He laughs, a hollow sound that echoes through the empty ballroom.
“They’re successful, stable, and have their shit together.
I’m just a sound guy who can barely make rent.
The only reason I do heat-breaking is because it’s the closest someone like me gets to having an omega. ”
“That’s not true?—”
“It is true.” He runs a hand through his already messy hair. “You think any of them know what I do for a living? Heat-breaking is considered lower than low. They’d probably judge me less for robbing a bank. It’s shameful, Trinity. No respectable alpha admits to doing it.”
I stare at him, pieces clicking into place. “So when I wanted to see you again...”
“I panicked.” His green eyes meet mine, raw and unguarded. “I’m not what you deserve. I’m not even in the same league as the others. Why would you want me when you have them?”
“Because I do want you,” I say simply.
He scoffs. “For how long? Until you realize I’m a fraud compared to them? Until you see how much better they are at everything? ”
I step closer, anger rising in my chest. “You don’t get to decide what I want or who I deserve.”
“I’m trying to save us both from the inevitable pain,” he says, turning away. “I’ll sit on the sidelines like a good little pretend pack member. I’ll play my part. But don’t ask for more than that.”
“So you’re just going to watch from a distance forever? That’s your plan?”
He shrugs, his shoulders a defeated line. “It’s not like I have a choice.”
I move around the piano to stand directly in front of him. “That is complete bullshit.”
His eyes widen at my tone.
“You absolutely have a choice. You’re choosing to run away because you’re afraid.” I poke him in the chest. “The alpha I met during my heat wasn’t a coward. He was funny and kind and made me feel beautiful when I was at my most vulnerable.”
“Trinity—”
“No, I’m not finished.” My voice rises with conviction.
“You think I care about your job? About how much money you make? Do you have any idea how many wealthy, successful alphas I’ve met who are complete assholes?
Who only see omegas as property? The only reason you’re here is because that is the exact kind of alpha that I do not want! ”
His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt.
“I want you because when you played that piece just now, it moved me. Because six months ago, you held me like I mattered. Because you notice things about me that no one else does.” I take a deep breath. “I want you because of who you are, not what you do or how you compare to anyone else.”
For a moment, he just stands there, shock evident on his face. Then slowly, hesitantly, he reaches out, his hand hovering near my cheek.
“You deserve better than me,” he whispers.
I lean into his touch, feeling the calluses on his fingers as they brush my skin. “I deserve to choose what I want for myself.”