Page 74 of Claimed By My Exiled Alphas
“Interesting. The new client wants to develop property sustainably. Actual conservation-minded development, not greenwashing.” He took a sip of wine. “It’s refreshing working with people who care about more than profit margins.”
“That must feel validating,” Hollis said. “After everything with your family.”
“It does.” Cassian’s expression softened slightly. “Makes me think maybe I can build something meaningful with this consulting work. Not just survive, but actually contribute.”
The pasta came together beautifully. Jace’s mushrooms were perfectly golden, the brown butter had reached that nutty stage that made everything taste better, and fresh sage from Cassian’s small herb garden added the perfect aromatic note.
We settled at the dining table with our food and more wine, the October evening darkening outside while Cassian’s house stayed warm and bright.
“This is really good,” Hollis said after his first bite. “Jace, you’ve learned actual cooking skills.”
“Talia’s a good teacher. Also I’m motivated by not wanting to eat instant ramen forever.”
“Noble motivation,” Cassian agreed.
We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the kind of quiet that came from people who didn’t need to fill every moment with conversation.
“Can I bring up something potentially awkward?” Jace asked eventually.
I set down my fork, recognizing his serious tone. “That sounds ominous.”
“Not ominous. Just important.” He looked around the table. “We need to talk about heat cycles.”
My stomach flipped. Not because I didn’t want to discuss it, but because I’d been avoiding thinking about it too hard. Heatswith Vincent had been awful, marked by his controlling behavior and my feeling trapped by biology.
“Okay,” I said carefully. “What about them?”
“We need to know what you want,” Hollis said gently. “What your expectations are. How you want to handle it when it comes.”
“If you want to handle it with us at all,” Cassian added. “That’s completely your choice.”
I took a sip of wine, buying time to organize my thoughts. They were all watching me with careful attention, not pushing but clearly invested in my answer.
“I don’t know exactly what I want,” I admitted. “My heats with Vincent were bad. Really bad. He used them to assert control, to make me feel like I needed him. I hated being that vulnerable around him.”
“That must have been terrible,” Hollis said quietly.
“It was. And I’m terrified of repeating that pattern.” I wrapped my hands around my wine glass. “But I also know that heats with the right people are supposed to be different. Good, even. I’m just not sure I believe that yet.”
“What would make you feel safe?” Jace asked. “Not what you think you should want, but what would actually make you feel secure and comfortable?”
I thought about that while pushing pasta around my plate. What did I actually want?
“I want control,” I said finally. “I want to know that if I say stop or I need space, you’ll listen. That my biology doesn’t override my consent or your respect for my boundaries.”
“Of course,” all three said in variations.
“And I want to know you three can actually coordinate without it turning into territorial chaos. That you won’t fight over me or make me feel like I’m causing problems by needing all of you.”
“We can coordinate,” Cassian said with certainty. “We’ve been practicing. The bowling, these dinners, all the casual time together. We’re building trust so when heat comes, we already know how to work together.”
“Have any of you been through a heat with someone before?” I asked.
Jace nodded. “Once, in college. A friend who needed help and I was the alpha she trusted. We weren’t bonded, just got her through it safely. But I learned how to support someone through heat without letting instinct override everything else.”
“I haven’t,” Hollis admitted. “I’ve read extensively, talked to friends about their experiences. But no direct experience.”
“Same,” Cassian said. “Which honestly concerns me. I don’t know if I can trust my instincts during something that biologically intense.”
