“Don’t.”
One word, filled with alpha command. My body froze instinctively, a whimper building in my throat that I barely managed to suppress.
“I hate when you do that,” I whispered, hands curling into fists.
“I know.” His expression softened fractionally. “But you leave us no choice.”
“Us? There is no us! There’s me, living my life, and you, refusing to accept that!”
Logan pulled the SUV into traffic, his eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror. “A life you’re barely surviving in. Your apartment is a shoebox. Your bank account is a joke. Your ‘career’ is making coffee.”
“My art?—”
“Is beautiful,” Cade interrupted, surprising me. “And going nowhere in that tiny apartment with no connections and no support.”
I stared at him. “You’ve seen my latest work?”
“Of course we have,” he said, as if it were obvious. “We’ve been watching over you this whole time, Finn. Did you really think we’d just let you go?”
The casual admission sent a chill down my spine. “That’s… that’s stalking. And creepy. And?—”
“Protective,” Logan supplied from the front seat. “The word you’re looking for is protective.”
“The word I’m looking for isn’t appropriate for polite company,” I muttered, turning to stare out the window as Seattle passed by. “How long have you been watching me?”
“Since the day you left,” Cade said simply.
My chest tightened. “That’s four years, Cade. Four years of… what? Following me? Spying on me? Having someone report back on my every move?”
“Keeping you safe,” he corrected. “Making sure you had space to… get this out of your system.”
“My life isn’t something to ‘get out of my system,’” I snapped. “It’s my life. Mine. Not yours to monitor or manage or manipulate.”
“A life you’ve been wasting,” Cade said, his voice hardening. “Hiding what you are. Pretending to be ordinary when you’re anything but.”
“And what am I, exactly?” I challenged, heart pounding so hard I was sure they could hear it.
Cade’s smile was knowing. “Something rare. Something precious. Something that belongs with its pack, not alone in a concrete jungle pretending to be ordinary.”
I swallowed hard, looking between them. “And if I refuse to go back?”
Logan’s laugh was without humor. “That’s not an option anymore, little brother. The choice has been made.”
“Not by me,” I pointed out.
“No,” Cade agreed, his hand settling on my knee with casual possession. “By us. Your alphas. Your family.” His fingers squeezed gently.
The touch sent electricity through my veins, a visceral reminder of why I’d run in the first place. Four years ago, at the beach. When one touch had turned into something more, something that both thrilled and terrified me with its intensity.
“Stop it,” I hissed, trying to move away. The SUV suddenly felt too small, too hot, too filled with their scents that made my head spin.
“Your scent changes when we touch you,” Cade continued, his voice dropping lower. “That’s why you ran, isn’t it? Not because of art school. Because you were afraid of what was happening between us.”
“Nothing is happening between us,” I insisted, even as my body trembled under his touch. “Nothing will happen between us. This is insane.”
“Is it?” Cade’s eyes had darkened, pupils dilating. “Then why does your heart race when I do this?” His hand moved to the back of my neck, fingers threading through my hair.
A whimper escaped before I could stop it, my body arching into his touch like a cat seeking affection. Humiliation burned through me at my reaction.