Chapter 12
TWELVE
Lorcan
The quiet hum of the movie and the soft rustle of popcorn are the only sounds filling the suite as Tadhg and I lounge on the couch. I’m not really watching, though. My mind keeps wandering, replaying everything from today. It’s hard to focus on anything else when my thoughts keep pulling back to her – how she looked, how she’s feeling, how much she’s letting herself trust us.
But when she was here, curled up between Tadhg and me, something in the air felt different. Tension. A quiet unease thrums through the bond that hasn’t left since we agreed she’d come back with us to Silver. I can feel it building under the surface, just out of reach, like a storm that’s been gathering on the horizon.
And then the balcony door slides open.
I don’t even need to look at Tadhg to know what’s coming. Devlin steps inside, her face pale and taut with emotion. It’s clear she’s upset even without her emotions screaming down the bond. More than upset. She’s distressed . Her caramel apple scent has taken on a burnt quality and there’s virtually no trace of the pecan and cinnamon. I don’t know what happened out there, but I’m already rising to my feet before she’s even fully through the door.
She doesn’t say anything. She just looks at us, her expression a mix of panic, confusion, fear, and something darker that I can’t quite place.
Then, without another word, she turns on her heel, rushing toward the door of the suite.
“Devlin!” Tadhg calls after her, but she doesn’t stop.
I’m up and moving in an instant, but I’m too late. She’s already racing past the hallway, through the suite, and out the door into the hallway.
“Shit!” I growl, gripping the back of the couch.
I hear Cathal’s footsteps, fast, heavy. He’s moving toward her, but I don’t know what happened out there. I don’t know what’s wrong. What he said or didn’t say, what he did or didn’t do to upset her.
I don’t wait to find out. I push past Cathal, standing in the doorway with his hand still outstretched like he’s trying to stop her. His jaw is tight, his eyes frantic, but I’m not in the mood for words.
“What did you do this time?” I growl, my voice low but sharp.
Cathal’s eyes flash, the storm inside him matching my own. “I don’t know,” he mutters, hands raised, palms out in surrender.
That’s it. That’s all he has for me right now. Our usually so cocky and self-assured, confident and never wrong leader has nothing but a shrug and a face full of worry for an explanation.
I don’t give him a chance to explain further. Instead, I pull on my shoes in a fury, motioning for Tadhg to follow me. “Stay put,” I snap at Cathal before I’m out the door, and I don’t wait to see if he listens.
Tadhg’s right behind me as we race down the hallway, out into the night, scanning for any sign of her. My heart pounds in my chest, urgency biting at me with every step.
We don’t have to search long. A flicker of movement up ahead – a figure darting between the shadows and the beams of the streetlights. Devlin.
Mine! My alpha roars and we pick up the pace.
“Devlin!” Tadhg shouts, but his voice is swallowed by the night. She doesn’t even turn.
Tadhg looks ready to call out again, but I stop him with a sharp motion. He gives me a questioning glance, but I don’t explain right away. She needs space. If she’s running, if she’s escaping like I think she is, she doesn’t need us crowding her.
“She’ll hear us,” I murmur low, my eyes still fixed on her silhouette in the distance. “We’ll follow. Give her space. But we keep our eyes on her. Give her time to calm down.”
Tadhg nods, understanding in the silent agreement between us. We’re going to follow her. Keep her close, but keep a distance.
I watch her move, her posture tense as she hurries away from us. I can feel my chest tighten, the helplessness of the moment weighing on me. She’s slipping, and I don’t know how to stop it.
But I won’t give up on her.
The night air is crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and faint saltwater from the brackish river. We’ve been watching her from a distance for what feels like forever, giving her the space she seems to need, though it takes everything in me not to go to her sooner. She’s curled in on herself on a low stone wall by the riverside, shoulders shaking from silent sobs. Each one feels like a blade in my chest.
I glance at Tadhg. His expression is tight with worry, his hands flexing at his sides as if he’s fighting the urge to reach for her. He catches my look and exhales sharply. “She’s stopped crying,” he whispers.
I nod. “It’s time.”
We move towards her slowly, careful not to startle her. She doesn’t look up at first, her fingers curled into her sleeves, knees drawn up to her chest. But when we reach her, she tenses, her breath catching.
Before she can pull away, I sink down beside her, wrapping an arm around her trembling frame, pulling her into the warmth of my body. Tadhg sits on her other side, his solid presence a steadying force. We cage her in, offering our warmth, our strength – hopeful she won’t fight it.
For a moment, none of us speak. There’s nothing to say that wouldn’t sound empty in the wake of whatever storm has torn through her tonight. Instead, we just hold her, letting her sink into the quiet comfort we can offer her, the tension in her body slowly beginning to ebb.
Tadhg lets out a quiet growl of disapproval, a sound like thunder rolling through the calm, and nudges her leg with his. “You’re not wearing shoes,” he chastises gently, his voice thick with concern. “Your feet must be freezing.”
She lets out a shaky breath, a sound that might’ve been a laugh if it weren’t so brittle. “Didn’t think about it.”
I curse under my breath, the heat of my frustration barely contained. “Of course you didn’t.”
Before she can argue, I shift, scooping her into my arms, cradling her against me. She lets out a startled gasp, her hands flying to my shoulders, but she doesn’t push me away. Instead, she melts against me, pressing her face into my neck, inhaling the steady, comforting scent of me. The scent of her distress lingers, but beneath it, I catch the familiar trace of ours – of mine, of Tadhg’s – lingering in her.
I brush my lips against her temple, the action soft but possessive, murmuring against her skin, “Next time you run off, wear shoes, a stór.”
Her breath shudders, something small and tired in it, but she doesn’t pull away. She accepts it, the warmth, the quiet control we offer her.
Tadhg steps closer, his fingers grazing her cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear with a gentleness that speaks of care, of ownership. “You scared us, Clover,” he admits softly, his voice raw, the deep rumble of it like a purr vibrating beneath his words.
“I scared myself,” she says, her voice barely audible, yet it trembles with truth.
I don’t know who moves first – if it’s her or me – but suddenly, my mouth is on hers, claiming what’s mine. She doesn’t hesitate, kissing me back like she needs it to anchor her, her hands tightening in my shirt.
When I pull away, her eyes flick to Tadhg. He watches her for a second, searching, and then she’s reaching for him too. The shift is subtle, but I feel it. My body hums with awareness as I watch her move into his arms. Their kiss is slower, softer, but there’s something raw in the way he cups her face, as if he’s afraid she might slip through his fingers. The heat between us feels like it’s building, even as I’m caught in the depths of this moment.
I can’t look away, watching them as Tadhg’s lips claim hers. There's a flicker of something wild in me, a heat that coils tighter in my gut the longer I stare. It’s not jealousy – it’s something far deeper, something primal. Seeing them together again, seeing them like this , feels right. It pulls at me, makes me ache with need, with wanting to be a part of it, to complete what’s unfolding between us. A low growl rumbles in my chest, the force of it caught somewhere between hunger and approval.
By the time they part, I know there’s no stopping the inevitable. The tension between us has been stretching thinner and thinner, and now it finally snaps. The air is thick with it, the crackle of need undeniable.
Tadhg turns to me, a question in his gaze. I don’t answer with words. I reach for him, pulling him into me. Our mouths crash together, the kiss fierce and desperate, but somehow, still perfect . It’s messy, urgent, the taste of Devlin still lingering on his lips, sharp and familiar, but more than that, it’s the heat of her body pressed between us. It bleeds into my shirt, her scent, her skin, all of it stirring something inside me that I didn’t know was there, that I didn’t know could burn this hot.
When we finally break apart, I can feel the weight of her gaze, the wide, dark eyes watching us, her lips parted, as if she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing. But I know – I know it’s real. All of it. And it’s ours .
The moment is still thick between us when a slow, mocking clap shatters it.
“Well, well, well,” a voice drawls from the shadows. “Would you look at that? No wonder the horny little omega ran off.”
I step in front of Tadhg and Devlin instinctively as we turn. A group of three alphas stands just beyond the pool of light cast by a nearby streetlamp. At the front is Podraig, the same bastard from the wedding. The sneering alpha who hit on Devlin that night, who thought he had some claim to her and wouldn’t take no for an answer. The two beside him could be anyone, but I get the feeling they’re pack .
I shift again, moving Devlin further behind me, Tadhg stepping in close on her other side.
Podraig’s smirk deepens. “I was wondering why she looked so miserable at that reception,” he continues, voice dripping with faux sympathy. “Poor thing’s got a pair of alphas who’d rather fuck around with each other than take care of her.”
A low growl builds in my throat. Tadhg stiffens beside me, and Devlin’s fingers dig into my back.
The other alpha scoffs. “You can see the bond marks on her, but it don’t mean a thing. She’s unclaimed in any way that matters .” His eyes rake over Devlin, predatory and cruel. “She deserves real alphas. Not—” he makes a vague, dismissive gesture at Tadhg and me, “—whatever the fuck this is.”
Heat licks up my spine, fury threatening to uncoil like a whip. I take a step forward, but Tadhg is faster.
“I’d watch your fucking mouth,” he snarls, his usual softness gone. “She’s ours. Marked, bonded, and very much claimed .”
Podraig snorts. “Yeah? Then why is she out here all alone, hmm? Must not be much of a bond if she’s already running.”
I see red.
Tadhg’s hands ball into fists, and I feel Devlin trembling behind me, whether in anger or fear, I can’t tell. What I do know is that I won’t let them talk about her – about us – like this.
I step forward, voice dropping into something deadly. “You really want to test our claim?” My lips curl in a cold smile. “Because I’d be happy to remind you exactly what kind of alphas we are.”
Podraig holds my stare, but there’s a flicker of something beneath his arrogance. Uncertainty. A hint of caution.
His friend scoffs again, but this time, there’s an edge to it. “Whatever. We’ll see how long she lasts before she comes crawling to a real pack.”
That’s the last straw.
“Keep her back,” I growl, low and deadly.
Then I lunge.
The bastard barely has time to react before I slam into him. His breath leaves him in a grunt as we hit the ground, the force of my body sending him sprawling across the damp earth. He barely has time to roll before I’m on him again, my teeth bared, fists tight with the promise of pain.
Tadhg shifts Devlin behind him. “Stay back, a rún,” he hisses, his voice gentler for her, even as fury crackles in his scent.
One of Podraig’s packmates takes a step toward her, dismissing her claim marks entirely. “You’re not bonded properly,” he sneers. “Not by real alphas.”
Tadhg moves fast, closing the space between them and landing a brutal punch to the bastard’s jaw. Bone cracks under his knuckles, sending the alpha reeling.
“You think we’re fucking weak ?” Tadhg snarls, standing over him. “Say it again.”
The other alpha spits blood onto the pavement, but even dazed, he still has the gall to sneer. “You’re soft. Pathetic.”
My answering growl is pure violence, as I grip Podraig by the collar, dragging him and slamming him up against the nearest tree. “Pathetic?” I snarl, my voice dripping with contempt. “Say that when you can still fucking stand.”
Podraig tries to shove me off, but I grab his throat, pinning him down. “What’s the matter?” I growl. “Not so cocky now, are you?”
He grits his teeth, eyes flashing. “Go ahead,” he spits. “Prove me right. You’re just a couple of fucking fags?—”
Before he can land another punch, a sharp voice cuts through the tension.
“That’s enough .”
Devlin.
She steps forward, her chin tilted high despite the way her hands tremble. She looks at the rival pack like they’re nothing . Like they’re dust beneath her feet.
“You don’t get to define me,” she says, voice steady now. “You don’t get to decide what makes an alpha strong, what makes a pack real, or what makes a bond worth anything.”
The tension in the air shifts.
Cathal arrives just as the words leave her lips.
When he sees the way they’ve cornered us and Devlin, something in him snaps.
Cathal doesn’t go for Podraig.
Not because he doesn’t want to – because I see the moment he clocks the bastard moving, see the rage flash white-hot in his eyes – but because something else snaps his focus away.
Devlin.
One of the others lunges for her, and that’s all it takes. Cathal abandons Podraig without a second thought, because Devlin is the greater threat, the greater need . He pivots, fast and brutal, moving like a force of nature, and then he’s there , tearing into the bastard before he can lay a hand on her. He grabs the weaker alpha by the back of the neck and throws him back like he’s nothing but dead weight. The man crashes against the nearest wall with a pained shout, and when he looks up, he pales.
Because Cathal isn’t just furious. He’s Feral.
I see it in the way his shoulders bunch, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. I see it in his eyes – dark, burning, unrelenting. His scent is a storm breaking open, thunderous and electric with fury. His presence is enough to make Podraig’s pack stiffen but he doesn’t back down.
“What the fuck did you just say about my pack?” His voice is quiet, but the threat behind it crackles in the air.
Podraig, still pinned beneath me, scoffs. “Didn’t realise you needed your fag brother to help you get the girl, Cathal.” He jerks his chin toward me and Tadhg. “But I guess if you’ve got to settle for what’s left, you’ll take whatever scraps you can get.”
The insult lands, but it’s not about her being an omega – he’s trying to rile us, trying to get under our skin. The sharpness in his voice is meant to provoke, a challenge to our strength and claim. I feel my jaw clench, a growl rumbling deep in my chest.
I snarl, ready to break his fucking nose, but before I can move to retaliate, Devlin steps forward, and I can feel the change in her almost before she fully does.
Her scent shifts. Turns burnt. Something snaps.
It’s subtle at first, barely a ripple in the charged air, but then it hits .
Gone is the uncertainty, the overwhelmed omega who ran from us only hours ago. In her place stands someone unshaken, undeniable .
Devlin steps past Tadhg, past me, even past Cathal, who growls in warning. With each step, she grows bolder. She closes the distance between herself and Podraig until she’s standing directly before him, her posture straight and commanding, her eyes locked onto his like a predator ready to strike. “You don’t fucking get it, do you?” she says, her voice a perfect balance of fury and ice. “I’m not yours to take.”
Podraig sneers, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he looks down at her. “Then why the hell are you out here?” His voice drips with accusation. “Why’d you run?”
The three of us snarl.
Devlin doesn’t flinch. “You been watching me like some kind of creeper, Podraig? It’s been days since the wedding ended. What are you doing still hanging around the reception venue like a bad smell, huh? Do you always stalk alone omegas at night? Or do you just prefer to prey on anyone weaker than you?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Tadhg, muscles straining as he holds Cathal back. His brother is a raw, snarling thing, teeth bared, eyes wild with fury, every inch of him coiled for the kill. Tadhg has an arm banded across his chest, murmuring low and firm, but Cathal isn’t listening. His lips are curled, his body vibrating with the force of his rage, only barely restrained.
I snap my attention back to Devlin, just in time to see her shove Podraig hard in the chest, and she must catch him unaware because he stumbles and falls backwards, sliding down the backside a couple of feet. Our tiny, feisty little omega just got the upper hand over a douchebag alpha.
Pride and fucking arousal flood me.
But our fiery little redhead isn’t done yet. She approaches and crouches slowly, positioning herself at eye level with him, clearly in power right now. There’s a calm intensity in her gaze, her muscles taut with the strength she’s hiding beneath the surface. “I ran because I needed a fucking minute to breathe,” she snaps. “But don’t mistake that for doubt.”
She tilts her head, the mark on her neck exposed. Her voice drops, tinged with a fury that feels ancient and deadly. “I chose them. Every single one of them. And I will continue to choose them. Every. Single. Time. In this life and the next. You’re nothing to me.”
The words hit like a thunderclap, final and absolute.
Podraig’s bravado flickers, his sneer faltering for a second as he stares at the mark, understanding what it means. The air around us tightens with an unspoken threat.
But that doesn’t mean he’s ready to back off yet. He’s not willing to go without one last jab.
He exhales sharply, then glances at the rest of his pack. “C’mon,” he mutters, jerking his chin at the others. “This bitch ain’t worth it.”
The others hesitate for a moment before slinking away into the darkness like the cowards they are. Podraig lingers for a second longer, his eyes flicking between Devlin and the three of us. Devlin, standing unbowed, and the three of us, still bristling with the need to hurt. To take revenge. To protect our omega. To make him pay.
He knows he’s lost, his arrogance wavering, but he still manages a sneer as he turns to leave.
“Fucking waste,” he mutters under his breath, bitter, before turning on his heel and walking away.
The moment they’ve gone, I exhale, the coil in my chest loosening just enough for me to breathe. The stress in the air begins to settle, but I can still taste the fury lingering in my mouth. I exhale again slowly, shaking off the tension… Until I catch sight of my packmates.
Cathal is still feral.
Tadhg’s got his arms locked around him, but even he’s struggling to hold him back. Cathal snarls, feet dragging furrows into the dirt as he fights against Tadhg’s grip, muscles bunched and trembling with the effort to tear himself free. His teeth are bared, his breath coming in ragged, panting growls, eyes fixed on Devlin like she’s the only thing in the world that matters.
I don’t think – I just move.
I step in beside Tadhg, grab Cathal’s arm, and brace against his side, muscles straining to hold him back. He’s burning up, every inch of him trembling with fury, his body a live wire of barely restrained violence. He needs to get to her. Every instinct in him is screaming for it, and for a second, I wonder if even both of us together can hold him.
“Let me go,” he snarls, voice wrecked. “Omega. Mine. Let me?—”
“Let him.” Devlin’s voice is quiet, but it cuts through the chaos like a blade.
Tadhg hesitates, his grip tightening for a fraction of a second, but Devlin doesn’t flinch. Her eyes are steady, her scent unwavering. “Let him come to me.”
The second we let go, Cathal lunges .
He slams into her with a force that should knock her off her feet, but Devlin barely stumbles. He buries his face against her throat, hands clutching at her waist, her back, like he needs to feel her solid and whole beneath his fingers. He’s shaking, breath hitching against her skin as he rubs his scent over her, pressing against her like he could crawl inside her if he tried hard enough.
“I’m okay,” Devlin insists, voice soft, her hands sliding up into his hair. She scratches gently at his scalp, her nails dragging soothing lines down the back of his neck. “Cathal, I’m okay.”
Her scent changes, shifting into something softer, deeper—something meant to calm, to soothe. And then she purrs for him, a low, steady vibration, the kind that settles in the chest and melts through tension like heat on ice.
Cathal shudders. His breathing stutters, fingers twitching where they grip her. She rubs her cheek against his, scent-marking him back, slow and deliberate.
“You did so well,” she croons. “Kept your pack safe. Protected me.” She presses a kiss to his temple, the praise warm and easy, instinctual. “Such a good alpha.”
Cathal growls . Low, guttural – hungry . And before I can blink, he fists a hand in her hair and takes .
The kiss is brutal. Not soft, not sweet – possessive, claiming, an animal needing to reaffirm what’s his. He bites at her lips, drinks down her sharp gasp, presses into her like he could crawl beneath her skin. And Devlin – fucking Devlin – whines for him, melts for him, claws at his shoulders and opens up, lets him devour her like he needs it to breathe.
Heat slams into my gut like a punch. I shift my stance before it gets obvious, but it doesn’t stop the blood from pooling low, doesn’t stop my fingers from twitching at my sides.
She purrs against his mouth, the sound thrumming through both of them, through all of us as her arousal floods the bond. Cathal’s grip tightens, his other hand curling around her throat, not squeezing – just holding. Just claiming . He growls something low, something only for her, and she shudders against him, breaking the kiss only to nuzzle into his jaw, press her lips to the hinge of it, offer herself up to him like it’s instinct.
The wildness in Cathal doesn’t disappear, but it dims. The shaking slows. His grip on her tightens for a moment before finally, finally easing.
Devlin keeps purring for him, keeps stroking through his hair, grounding him. And bit by bit, he comes back to himself and he eventually releases her enough so that she can breathe. He doesn’t let her go though, keeping her in his embrace, her bare feet dangling above the ground.
“I want to go home,” she mutters, her voice steady but tired.
I exchange a look with Tadhg and Cathal, and without a word, we nod in unison.
“Then let’s go home.”
The tension still lingers in the air as we make our way back to the hotel, but it’s different now. Less like a fight waiting to happen and more like an aftershock – something raw and frayed at the edges but settling.
Cathal walks a step behind, his presence solid, steady. Protective. When I glance over my shoulder he still looks murderous, but he’s no longer a danger to anyone. He’s slowly coming back to us. I think having Devlin in his arms helps.
No one speaks.
Not when we slip through the hotel doors, not when we step into the lift, not even when we reach the suite.
It’s only when the door clicks shut behind us that Devlin finally exhales, her whole body shuddering like she’s been holding herself together by sheer force of will.
Reluctantly, our pack lead puts her down, but he bands an arm across her chest to keep her from leaving or straying too far. With difficulty, she turns in his embrace to face us, and something in her expression undoes me.
There’s no fear there. No doubt. No hesitation.
Only certainty.
“I’m sorry I ran,” she says, eyes flicking between us, her voice quieter now, but no less steady. “I was scared. Of what this means. Of what I mean to you. I freaked out for a second, worrying about how my life is going to change now, and for a moment I got scared.” Her lips press together, and then she shakes her head. “But I’m not scared anymore.”
Tadhg moves first, stepping in close and cupping her face with both hands. His touch is careful, reverent. “We would have chased you to the ends of the earth,” he says, his forehead pressing to hers. “You have to know that.”
A small, breathy laugh leaves her lips, and she nods. “I do.”
I don’t realise I’ve stepped in too until I feel her warmth against my chest. Until my hand is in her hair, my thumb brushing her cheek, grounding myself in the feel of her. “Did you mean what you said? That you choose us,” I press.
She lifts her chin, meeting my gaze without flinching. “I meant it. I do.”
Something warm swells in my chest, something too big to name.
Cathal exhales behind her, and then his arms come around all of us, pulling us into a crushing embrace. Devlin melts into it, into us, letting herself be held like she was always meant to be here.
Because she was.
She is.
We hold her for a long time, tangled together in a knot of limbs and warmth and heartbeats, until something in the air shifts. Until the heat that’s always simmered beneath the surface starts to rise again, dark and unrelenting.
It starts with a kiss.
Soft at first, barely more than a brush of lips. But then Devlin sighs against my mouth, tilting her head up, and I’m gone.
I claim her properly, deep and slow, swallowing the sound she makes as she presses into me. Then Tadhg’s lips are on her neck, and Cathal grips her waist, and the next breath she takes turns into a gasp.
And just like that, we’re lost in her.
Lost in us.
There’s no more hesitation.
No more doubts.
Only the undeniable, unshakable truth.
She’s ours.
And we are hers.