“We could have sent you away after our parents died,” Keir reminded me, his teeth grazing my earlobe. “We were barely adults ourselves. Taking in an orphaned fox shifter wasn’t exactly in our plans.”

“But we couldn’t let you go,” Cade said, his thumb sliding over the head of my cock, spreading the moisture gathered there. “Even then, before the mate bond revealed itself. You were already ours.”

Their combined assault—physical and emotional—was breaking down my defenses faster than I could rebuild them. Each touch, each word, chipped away at the walls I’d spent four years constructing.

“I can’t,” I gasped, even as my body arched into their hands. “I can’t just surrender everything I’ve built.”

“We’re not asking you to surrender,” Keir murmured against my skin. “We’re asking you to come home. To us.”

“Let us show you,” Cade said, his eyes never leaving mine as he moved down my body. “Let us prove that this isn’t just the bond.”

And then his mouth was on me, hot and wet and perfect around my cock, his tongue swirling around the head before taking me deep. Keir claimed my lips in a deep, consuming kiss, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of Cade’s mouth between mylegs. Logan moved to my side, his teeth finding the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder, his hand splayed possessively across my chest, thumb flicking over my nipple with expert precision.

The triple assault shattered the last of my resistance. Four years of denial, of convincing myself they didn’t really want me, collapsed under the weight of their touch, their words, their obvious desire.

As my body surrendered to their ministrations, memories flooded back—not just of physical pleasure, but of quiet moments I’d tried so hard to forget. Cade staying up until three in the morning to help me study for finals, bringing me coffee and never once complaining even though he had an early meeting. Logan standing silently beside me at my parents’ memorial, his hand on my shoulder the only thing keeping me upright. Keir driving four hours to bring me my favorite sketchbook when I’d forgotten it during a school trip.

The way they’d always made room for me at family dinners, even when business associates were present. How Cade would automatically order my favorite dishes without asking. The way Logan would check my car’s oil and tires without being asked. Keir sending me links to art exhibitions he thought I’d enjoy.

Aunt Vivian’s words from years ago echoed in my mind.“Those boys don’t know how to say it, Finn, but everything they do screams that they love you.”Drew had told me the same thing, over and over.“They’re miserable without you. They always have been.”

They had always taken care of me, always protected me, always put me first—even when it cost them. Even when it hurt them to watch me pull away.

The truth I’d been running from crashed over me like a wave. I hadn’t just been protecting myself from the pain of believing I wasn’t wanted—I’d been guarding my heart against the terrorof loving and losing again. After watching my parents die, after losing the Sinclairs who had adopted me, I’d built walls so high and thick that not even I could see over them anymore.

Everyone I’d ever loved had been taken from me. My birth parents, torn away in a night of violence I barely remembered. The elder Sinclairs, gone in another supernatural attack. I’d convinced myself that not loving these three men was safer than risking that kind of pain again.

So I’d run—from them, from Harborview, from my feelings. I’d left behind not just my mates, but Drew, Aunt Vivian, even my beloved pets. Mochi had whined for days when I’d dropped him off with Drew before leaving. Pixel had refused to eat for a week. And little Boba, whom I’d only had for a few months before leaving, probably didn’t even remember me.

I’d abandoned everything I loved because I was too afraid to admit how much I needed them. How much I loved them. How terrified I was that they’d be taken from me too.

“Oh,” I breathed as the realization hit me, my voice breaking on the single syllable. Something cracked open inside my chest—a wall I’d built to protect myself from the pain of believing I wasn’t truly wanted, from the fear of loving and losing again.

For four years, I’d convinced myself that I was just an obligation to them. A duty. A burden they’d been saddled with because of some cosmic joke. I’d held on to that belief like a shield, using it to justify running away, to protect myself from the vulnerability of loving them.

And all this time, they had loved me. Not because of the mate bond. Not because of obligation. But because I was Finn.

Cade’s mouth worked me with devastating skill, his tongue tracing the underside of my cock before hollowing his cheeks to take me deeper. His hands gripped my thighs, thumbs pressing into sensitive pressure points that made my hips buck involuntarily. Each motion of his mouth was both worshipand claim—showing me with actions what words had failed to convey.

Logan’s teeth scraped along my collarbone, leaving marks that would linger for days, visible reminders of his possession. His hands were everywhere—stroking my sides, pinching my nipples, sliding around to grip my ass with possessive strength. Every touch screamed mine, ours, forever.

Keir’s kiss was pure emotion, his tongue tangling with mine in a dance that spoke of years of longing. His hands cradled my face with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the hunger in his touch.

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, overwhelming emotion making it hard to breathe. The revelation was too much, too intense—joy and regret and relief all tangled together in a knot that lodged in my throat.

Keir pulled back from our kiss, his thumbs gently wiping the tears from my cheeks. The tenderness in his touch nearly broke me completely.

“I’m still mad at you,” I managed to gasp out, my hands finding their way into Cade’s hair, not pushing him away but pulling him closer. Tears streamed down my face, but I couldn’t stop them anymore than I could stop the tide. “For the kidnapping. For the manhandling. For making me realize I’ve been lying to myself for four years.”

“We’ll spend the rest of our lives making it up to you,” he promised, his voice rough with emotion. “Every day, Finn. Every moment.”

“No more running,” Logan murmured against my throat, his usual gruffness softened by something that sounded dangerously close to his own tears. “For any of us.”

Cade lifted his head, his silver eyes meeting mine with an intensity that stole my breath. “We thought we’d lost you,”he said simply, the admission costing him visibly. “Four years thinking we’d failed you. That we’d driven you away.”

I shook my head, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. They hadn’t failed me—I’d failed myself. Failed all of us by being too afraid to believe in what we could be.

“I was so scared,” I finally managed, my voice breaking on a sob. “Not of you. Of this. Of how much I need you. Of how much it would destroy me to lose you.”