Chapter 17
Seventeen
LIANA
The next morning, I wake with a sleepy start and notice the bed is empty.
The sheets are still warm where Ezra’s body had been, a valley pressed into the memory foam. I stretch my sore, aching limbs across the bed, every muscle singing with the kind of good pain that makes me smile against the pillow.
I blink against the late morning light spilling through the windows. My whole body feels wrung out and put back together. The silk robe is folded neatly on the chair by the bed, the emerald fabric gleaming in the sun. I smile at his thoughtfulness.
There’s a note on the pillow beside my head. Sharp, angular handwriting, black ink on cream paper: Got super hungry after our amazing time last night. Meet me downstairs, love — E
I read it twice. My chest does something complicated and warm behind my ribs, and I press the note to my lips before I can stop myself.
I pull the silk robe on and pad to the bathroom. There’s a brand new toothbrush still in its wrapping on the stark white bathroom sink, with toothpaste next to it. I notice fifteen different types of face soaps, moisturizers, and body wash as well.
Hopping into the shower, I turn the water on, adjusting the warmth to lukewarm since I’m still burning with fever from my heat. It feels nice to stand under the stream of water to get clean after Ezra knotted me last night.
He said he loved me. Did he really mean it? I still can’t believe I’m in their home, sleeping with them, after looking for lawyers to protect my shop. But something within me trusts Ezra when he says I could keep my shop now.
After my shower, I brush my teeth thoroughly and grab a new robe that’s hanging in the master suite bathroom.
The fabric slides over my naked skin as I tie the sash around my waist with fingers that are still a little unsteady. My bare feet sink into the plush hallway carpet as I pad toward the kitchen, following the smell.
The penthouse smells like a bakery and heaven all at once, and underneath it, the mingled scents of four alphas wrapping around me like a hug.
I hear them before I see them.
Julian’s laugh, low and easy. Cole’s quiet rumble answering something. August humming something soft under his breath. And Pepper’s unmistakable scratchy shriek telling someone to shut up in a perfect imitation of Ezra’s voice.
I turn the corner into the open kitchen and stop in the doorway.
August is at the stove in pajama pants and a cream t-shirt, his sandy blond hair a mess, glasses on, spatula mid-flip over something that sizzles.
Julian is at the island reading a newspaper with Pepper perched on his shoulder, the bird’s yellow head cocked at a ninety-degree angle.
Cole is doing crossword puzzles in pen, his brow furrowed.
Ezra is at the far end of the island on his laptop in a charcoal sweater, his black hair still damp from his morning shower, his pale gray eyes finding mine the second I appear.
They all look up at me.
The robe is slipping off one shoulder. My hair is a mess of wet curls. My face is flushed from showering and heat, and I can feel my nipples pebbling against the silk where the air hits them.
Julian whistles low under his breath.
Pepper fluffs all his feathers up to twice his normal size, emerald body puffing out like an angry balloon, and announces at top volume: “Gorgeous!”
I laugh. I cover my face with my free hand, and the laughter bubbles out of me loud and startled and real, and the kitchen comes alive again.
Cole sets down his pen.
August abandons the pan on the burner.
Julian pulls out the bar stool beside him and pats the cushion with a grin that makes my stomach flip.
Ezra closes his laptop.
Every brother is suddenly entirely focused on me, and my pussy throbs hard between my thighs, slick gathering warm and thick as I remember last night—four mouths on me, four tongues between my legs, sucking me dry on the dining room table while I screamed.
Ezra crosses the kitchen in three strides.
His hands find my face. Warm. Large. His thumbs brush my cheekbones, and he kisses me—slow, possessive, his mouth claiming mine in front of his brothers like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He pulls back. Presses his forehead to mine. His gray eyes are dark, pupils blown.
“Did you sleep well?” he asks, his voice low and rough.
“I did,” I say, my lips still tingling from his deep kiss.
He leads me to the bar stool Julian pulled out and helps me onto it like I’m made of glass. His warm palm stays on the small of my back for one second too long.
August sets a plate in front of me.
Scrambled eggs. Fresh strawberries glistening. A small warm croissant, golden and flaky. And beside the plate, in a tiny glass vase no bigger than my thumb, a single peony—deep pink, the petals soft and perfect.
“Oh wow,” I say softly. “That’s so sweet.”
August turns red. Instantly. The blush crawls from his collar to his hairline, and he pushes his glasses up his nose and turns back to the stove.
Julian pours my coffee, and Cole hands me a glass of cold water with a slice of cucumber floating in it.
His slate-blue eyes hold mine for one beat, and he gives me the smallest nod.
“Pretty boy!” Pepper announces, directly at Cole.
Cole doesn’t look up from his crossword. “Fuck off, bird.”
Pepper bobs his head. Tilts exactly ninety degrees. His pupils pin to tiny black points.
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” he says into a moment of perfect quiet, Julian’s voice pitched perfectly, the timing so precise it’s almost artistic. Julian groans. Drops his forehead into his hand.
I laugh so hard I choke on my coffee. It goes down the wrong pipe, and I’m coughing, tears in my eyes, and Cole’s hand is on my back, patting gently between my shoulder blades, his touch steady and warm.
Ezra glares at the parrot. “I’m going to wring its neck.”
“Bedtime,” Pepper retorts in Ezra’s voice, and preens.
Julian threatens to sell him to a zoo. Pepper, unbothered, rubs his beak against Julian’s shoulder and makes kissing noises.
I’m halfway through my breakfast when my phone buzzes on the island. I hadn’t realized I’d brought it with me. The screen lights up.
Mira.
I pick up. “Oh, hey Mira.”
“Lia. Listen. A man came into the bakery at six-thirty this morning. Tall. Pale blond. Dark coat. Said he was looking for the florist. Said he had a delivery you’d missed.”
My stomach drops.
I put the phone on speaker without thinking. All four brothers lean in at the same time.
“He looked like your ex, Lia. He bought a croissant. Paid cash. Left. I didn’t want to scare you, but I couldn’t pretend it didn’t happen.”
The blood drains out of my face so fast I feel dizzy.
“Thanks,” I whisper. “I’ll call you back.”
I hang up. The kitchen goes ice cold.
Ezra is already on his feet. Cole has pulled out his phone, thumbs moving fast over the screen, his jaw set.
Julian has gone very still beside me, his hazel eyes fixed on my face.
August has set down the spatula. He looks at me.
His blue eyes are wide behind his glasses, worried, and his honey scent has gone sharp with alarm.
I am shaking.
Julian pulls me off the stool and into his side. His arm wraps around my waist, holding me against the solid warmth of his chest, and I let him. August comes around the island and puts his hand on my shoulder, his fingers squeezing gently.
Ezra sits down on the stool beside me. Takes both my hands in his. His palms are warm, his grip firm, and his gray eyes are steady on mine.
“Liana,” he says. His voice is quiet. “Silus knows where you are. He will not stop. As of right now, until your heat is fully over and we have a full security plan in place, you are not going to be alone at your shop. Ever.”
My throat closes.
“Cole will be installing additional surveillance today. One of us will be with you at all times when you reopen. The shop will close for three days while the system is put in.”
I stare at him.
I pull my hands out of his. Stand up. Wrap the silk robe tighter around myself, my fingers trembling on the sash.
“I have been running my own life for three years,” I say. My voice is thin. Shaking. “I don’t need a security detail at my shop. Marsh Florals is the one place in the world I have ever felt safe. I’m not a prisoner.”
The word lands wrong. Ezra flinches like I’ve slapped him.
Ezra stands. Very carefully. Very slowly. His hands are at his sides, open, like he’s trying not to scare me.
“Nobody is treating you like a prisoner,” he says.
His voice is low. Steady. The control in it is almost painful to hear.
“This is about keeping you alive. After last night, I am not willing to take any chances with you. I am sorry if I am being too protective. I would rather be too protective and have you angry with me. I don’t want to lose you. ”
My throat closes up. Tight. Aching. Magnus didn’t want to lose me too.
My heat is still humming under my skin like a live wire. I don’t know how to be loved this much by four men at once. I certainly do not know how to be loved this much while also being told what I can and cannot do with my own shop.
“I need a minute,” I say, turning to leave. I really need to be alone and think about this after having full independence for three years without a pack.
As I walk away, the cramps tighten low in my belly, hurting so bad as slick seeps down my thighs. But I try to ignore it as I keep walking.
“Lia…? Let’s talk about this, hun,” Julian calls after me, but I’m already leaving the dining room as fast as I can, hoping he wouldn’t come after me.
I walk down the long hallway with no destination, my bare feet silent on the carpet, as I tie the silk sash tighter around my aching belly. My god, this is the worst heat ever.
This penthouse is enormous. I walk past Ezra’s bedroom. Past two guest rooms I haven’t been in, doors closed. Then I see a large door, and I stop to push it open.
It’s a home library.
I step inside, and the room takes my breath away.