Chapter 20 Bonds And Boundaries
BONDS AND BOUNDARIES
~WENDOLYN~
"IBONDED WITH YOU?!"
The shriek escapes at a volume that probably disturbs wildlife in a three-mile radius, my voice cracking with a combination of shock and disbelief and something approaching hysteria.
My finger extends toward Calder with accusatory precision, pointing directly at his infuriatingly relaxed face like I can somehow undo a permanent biological connection through aggressive gesturing.
He's sprawled on my living room couch—shirtless for reasons I absolutely don't have bandwidth to process right now, looking completely unbothered by my spiraling panic.
His chest is on full display, decorated with scratches and marks that are definitely my handiwork, the visual evidence making my face burn with embarrassment and something I'm refusing to acknowledge as satisfaction.
Focus.
Not the time to appreciate the aesthetics of shirtless Alpha.
Currently having an existential crisis about permanent pack bonds formed while apparently unconscious.
"We—" I struggle to articulate coherent thought past the screaming in my brain. "We bonded? Like, actual pack bond? Permanent connection? The kind that creates psychic links and shared emotions and all that biological nonsense I've spent years avoiding?"
Calder's smirk is absolutely shameless, zero guilt evident in his expression.
"Yep." The single syllable carries far too much satisfaction. "Marked me, took my knot, created a permanent bond that's currently connecting all five of us, whether we planned it or not."
Five.
He said five.
Which means—
My gaze whips toward the other occupants of my living room—Bear leaning against the wall with barely suppressed amusement, Silas occupying the armchair with medical professional composure, and Aidric glowering from his position near the window like he's planning multiple murders and trying to decide which victim gets priority.
They're all here.
All connected.
All part of whatever catastrophic bonding situation I apparently created.
"This is—" My hands flutter uselessly, searching for words adequate to describe the magnitude of this disaster. "This is not temporary! This is permanent! This is exactly what we were trying to avoid!"
I realize belatedly that I'm wearing clothes that definitely aren't mine—an oversized shirt that smells overwhelmingly of Calder, shorts that are simultaneously too big and barely covering anything.
When did I change?
Who dressed me?
Why am I wearing Calder's clothes like we're in some domestic relationship comedy?
"Whose clothes are these?" I demand, tugging at the shirt hem with indignation I don't quite feel.
Calder's grin widens—absolutely unrepentant about clothing theft or whatever sequence of events led to me wearing his shirt.
"Mine. You looked cold and your clothes were—" He pauses delicately. "—compromised. Figured you'd prefer my shirt over being naked."
Compromised.
My clothes were compromised.
Which means—
Don't think about what that means.
Absolutely do not replay whatever activities led to clothing destruction.
I begin pacing—nervous energy demanding an outlet, body refusing to remain stationary while my brain attempts to process information that feels impossible despite apparently being factual.
"We can't be bonded!" The words tumble out rapid-fire, panic overriding coherence. "What happens to the temporary arrangement? The three-month trial period? The part where this was supposed to be reversible?"
My feet carry me back and forth across the limited floor space, movements jerky with agitation.
"How are we supposed to work together? What if I get offered the chief position?
" I pause mid-stride, wheeling toward Aidric to point at him with similar accusatory energy I'd directed at Calder.
"When the stubborn Alpha over there—yes, I'm talking about you—wants the same position, how does that work? "
Aidric's glare intensifies, storm-gray eyes promising violence if I don't stop gesturing at him.
I ignore his silent threats, resuming pacing with renewed vigor.
"I still have to run the ranch—Willa trusted me with that responsibility, and I can't abandon it just because my personal life imploded into complicated pack dynamics.
And there's the investigation! Gregory is still out there, probably planning his next attempt to murder me, and now I've potentially put four Alphas in his crosshairs because pack bonds make everyone targets! "
My voice rises with each point, spiraling toward a full panic attack.
"Plus, Calder still needs to return to LA for his position!
That captain rank he's earned, the station he's supposed to command, the career he's been building—we can't just ignore that because of impulsive bonding!
And what about the kittens?! Ember, Ash, Cinder, and Spark need consistent care and attention, and Blaze requires training and proper diet and—"
Hands grip my shoulders—firm but gentle, stopping my frantic pacing mid-step.
Silas stands before me, honey-eucalyptus scent suddenly overwhelming, his expression carrying professional calm that's probably reserved for patients experiencing medical crises.
"Breathe," he commands quietly, authority cutting through panic with surgical precision. "Before you hyperventilate yourself into unconsciousness, and I have to handle another medical situation involving your stubborn refusal to acknowledge physical limitations."
Breathe.
Right.
Breathing is good.
Necessary for continued consciousness.
I attempt to follow instructions, drawing air into lungs that feel too tight, exhaling with shaky control that suggests my respiratory system is on strike.
"How are you NOT panicking?!" The question emerges louder than intended, disbelief evident in every syllable.
I look around at all four of them—Bear still emanating amusement, Silas maintaining professional composure, Calder radiating satisfaction, Aidric broadcasting murderous intentions.
"Why is everyone so damn calm? We just accidentally created permanent pack bonds! This is catastrophic! This is life-altering! This is—"
Bear's chuckle interrupts my building tirade, a warm sound that shouldn't be this soothing given the circumstances.
"Aidric and Calder already duked it out with arguments," he explains with a casual air of someone discussing the weather. "Verbal warfare lasting approximately two hours. They're probably exhausted from screaming at each other, which explains the current peaceful state."
Two hours of arguing.
While I was unconscious.
They've had time to process, while I'm just now learning about this.
"IN THE BEDROOM?!" My shriek returns full force, outrage mixing with something that feels suspiciously like disappointment. "WITHOUT ME?!"
"NO!" Both Calder and Aidric respond simultaneously, unified denial delivered with enough force to rattle windows.
I can't help the giggle that escapes—slightly hysterical but genuine, the absurdity of the situation momentarily overriding panic.
"Good," I declare with false brightness. "Because if you're going to engage in heated arguments that might evolve into hate-sex, I want front-row seats for the entertainment."
Did I just say that out loud?
Yes.
Yes, I absolutely did.
No taking it back now.
"That's never going to happen," Calder states firmly, though his expression suggests he's entertained by my suggestion.
"Never," Aidric echoes with equal conviction, disgust evident in his tone.
"Okay," I concede with exaggerated cheerfulness, "but if it does happen…and I maintain that the sexual tension between you two could power small cities…you're taking me on a nice date first. Like, a romantic dinner on a mountaintop or something equally cinematic.”
Why am I negotiating terms for their hypothetical relationship?
Why is this my coping mechanism?
Discuss absurd romantic scenarios instead of addressing actual crises?
Aidric huffs, crossing arms defensively.
"Get some other pack to do that fantasy nonsense. We're not your personal entertainment."
I huff back, matching his defensive posture.
"I've never seen a pack do anything like that. Gregory's pack certainly never—"
"You could make a safer, more reasonable journey by having a nice cozy nest," Aidric interrupts, suggestion emerging grudging but sincere. "Not requiring fucking sky access or mountain climbing equipment."
Nest.
He mentioned nest.
The word hits different now—carrying weight I hadn't anticipated, touching on longing I've been suppressing for years.
"I've never had a nest," I admit quietly, vulnerability slipping through defensive humor.
The silence that follows is profound—all four Alphas going completely still, their attention laser-focused on me with intensity that makes my skin prickle.
Bear speaks first, confusion evident:
"Wait. Never? As in not even with Gregory's pack?"
Aidric's expression shifts from irritation to something approaching concern, his gaze finding Calder's across the room.
"So you weren't lying?" The question carries surprise, like he'd assumed Calder was exaggerating earlier.
What did Calder tell them?
How much of my pathetic history has been shared while I was unconscious, though I did open up to Bear, which is far easier because he doesn’t seem like the one to judge, so of course he’d tell them…in just a nice non-pathetic way, right?
Calder meets my eyes, expression gentle in ways that make my chest feel tight.
"I told them Gregory's pack didn't do shit for you. That they were roommates at best, exploiters at worst, absolutely failing to provide any of the support or care that pack arrangements are supposed to offer."
He told them.
Shared my shame, my failures, my inability to inspire basic affection from Alphas who claimed me.
"He's not lying," I confirm, voice smaller than intended. "They were pretty much roommates with occasional sex. Never had nest, never experienced the comfort or security that's supposed to come with pack bonding."
Among other things, I've never experienced.