Page 75 of Claimed By My Exiled Alphas
“That’s why we’re talking about it now,” Jace said. “Establish what Talia needs while we’re all thinking clearly. Then during heat, we follow her lead instead of just reacting.”
“What would that look like?” I asked. “Practically, I mean.”
“However you need it to look,” Hollis said. “You tell us what would make you feel safe, and we commit to that.”
I thought about Vincent again. About how he’d ignored my needs during heat, had used my vulnerability against me. About how I’d felt trapped and so angry at my own biology.
“I want to be able to choose,” I said slowly. “Even during heat, I want to maintain some autonomy. If I say I only want one of you, or two of you, or I need space, I want that respected.”
“Absolutely,” Cassian said immediately.
“And I don’t want it to be some big production with planning and schedules. I want it to feel natural, like you’re responding to what I need in the moment rather than following some script.”
“We can do that,” Jace agreed. “Stay flexible, follow your lead.”
“But we should have basic logistics sorted,” Cassian added. “Where you want to be, what supplies you might need, how we contact each other. Framework without rigidity.”
That made sense. “Okay. Structure but flexibility within it.”
“What else?” Hollis asked gently. “What else do you need from us?”
“Patience. Understanding if I freak out or get scared. This is all new for me, doing heat with people I actually trust.” My voice cracked slightly. “I’m probably going to be a mess.”
“We can handle mess,” Jace said warmly. “That’s what pack is for.”
Cassian refilled everyone’s wine glasses, and the conversation shifted to lighter territory. We talked about Cassian’s terrible bowling form and his determination to improve. About Hollis’s latest bookstore drama involving a customer who’d insisted a book she’d clearly read was defective. About Jace’s next cooking attempt.
“I’m not accustomed to socializing without agenda,” Cassian admitted. “My family’s dinners were always strategic. Who was invited, what business was discussed, what alliances were being formed. This is the first time I’ve had people over just because I enjoy their company.”
“That’s kind of sad,” Jace said.
“It is. But I’m learning there are better ways to live.”
After dinner, we moved to Cassian’s living room with the rest of the wine. The space was comfortable in an understated way. Leather furniture that had been chosen for actual use, bookshelves that held books he’d actually read, art that reflected his taste rather than investment value.
I ended up on the couch between Hollis and Jace, while Cassian settled in the armchair across from us. It felt natural now, this casual physical proximity. Jace’s arm along the back ofthe couch, Hollis’s knee touching mine, Cassian close enough to be part of the group.
“Can I say something?” I asked, slightly wine-warm and emotional. “Something important?”
“Always,” Hollis said.
“A few months ago, I was alone and broken and convinced I’d never trust anyone again. Vincent had destroyed my career and my confidence, and I came here just trying to survive.” I looked at each of them. “But you three changed that. You reminded me what it feels like to be valued and supported and cared for without conditions.”
“Talia,” Hollis said softly.
When we finally separated, Jace said, “So if we’re doing this, really doing this, we need to talk logistics. Where are we all going to live?”
“That’s very practical,” Hollis said, but he was smiling.
“Pack bonds work better when you’re actually in the same space,” Jace continued. “Not necessarily immediately, but we should have a plan.”
I looked around Cassian’s house, at the space he’d made his own. “This place is beautiful, but it’s not really big enough for four people long-term.”
“My apartment above the bookstore definitely isn’t,” Hollis said quietly. “It’s barely big enough for me and my books.” He paused, and something shifted in his expression. “But I have my grandmother’s house. The one with the garden.”
We all turned to look at him.
“I’ve been keeping it empty since she died. Couldn’t bring myself to sell it or rent it out, but couldn’t move in either. Too many memories.” He met each of our eyes. “But it’s a proper house. Four bedrooms, big kitchen, that garden. Enough space for all of us.”
