Page 89 of Claimed By My Exiled Alphas
And nothing would ever be the same.
Chapter 25
Talia
Iwoke to warmth surrounding me on all sides. Not the feverish heat of my cycle, but the solid comfort of three bodies pressed close, three distinct scents wrapping around me like a blanket. Cedar and leather from Cassian behind me, his arm draped possessively across my waist. Pine and paper from Hollis to my right, his hand resting on my hip. And the earthy outdoor scent of Jace on my left, his fingers tangled gently in my hair.
The nest had been reconstructed at some point during the night, pillows and blankets arranged with obvious care around all four of us. Someone had brought water bottles within reach. Someone else had set protein bars on the nightstand.
Through the bonds I could feel them sleeping, their emotional states filtering through our connections like ambient music. Jace’s contentment, warm and uncomplicated. Hollis’s peaceful satisfaction. Cassian’s unusual relaxation, the rigid control he usually maintained completely absent.
And underneath all of it, the bonds themselves. Three threads connecting me to each of them, strong and permanent and absolutely real.
My heat had finally broken sometime in the early hours of the morning. Three days of cycling through need and satisfaction, of being cared for and claimed and cherished by three very different alphas who somehow managed to coordinate instead of compete. Three days that had fundamentally changed everything.
I shifted slightly, and immediately all three of them stirred. The bonds probably alerted them the moment I woke, my emotional state shifting from sleep to waking awareness.
“Hey,” Jace mumbled, blinking sleep from his eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore,” I admitted. My body ached in ways both pleasant and uncomfortable. “But good. Better than good, actually.”
“Water,” Cassian said, already reaching for one of the bottles even as he pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “You need to stay hydrated.”
“And food,” Hollis added, sitting up carefully. “Your body needs fuel after three days of heat.”
I accepted the water bottle from Cassian and drank half of it before setting it aside. The three of them were watching me with careful attention, and through the bonds I could feel their worry mixing with satisfaction. Worry that I might regret this now that the heat was over. Satisfaction that they’d cared for me well.
“I don’t regret it,” I said quietly, addressing the unspoken concern. “In case you were wondering. I don’t regret any of this.”
Relief flooded through all three bonds simultaneously, so strong it made me gasp.
“We were worried,” Hollis admitted. “That once your heat broke, you might feel differently. That the biological imperative might have overridden what you actually wanted.”
“It didn’t.” I reached out to touch each of them in turn, needing the physical contact to reinforce the words. “This is what I wanted. What I still want. All three of you. Pack.”
“Pack,” Jace repeated, grinning. “I love the sound of that.”
“We should probably talk about what happens next,” Cassian said, ever practical even in the aftermath of bonding. “Logistics, expectations, how we function now that we’re permanently bonded.”
“Can we talk about it after I take a shower and eat something?” I asked. My body felt sticky with sweat and slick and three days of intimate activity. “I need to feel human again before we plan our entire future.”
“Of course,” Hollis said immediately. “Let me get the shower started for you. The water pressure in your bathroom is terrible, but I can probably coax it into something decent.”
He climbed out of the nest, completely unselfconscious in his nudity, and headed for the bathroom. I heard water start running a moment later.
“I’ll make food,” Jace offered. “Eggs and toast, maybe? Something substantial but not too heavy.”
“That sounds perfect.” I watched him pull on his boxers and head for the kitchen, leaving me alone with Cassian.
“You’re really okay?” he asked quietly, gray eyes searching my face. “Not just saying what you think we want to hear?”
“I’m really okay.” I shifted to face him properly, wincing slightly at the soreness. “Scared, maybe. This is permanent and huge and I’ve never been part of a pack before. But I don’t regret it. I don’t regret any of you.”
He pulled me close, careful of my tender body, and just held me for a long moment. Through the bond I felt his relief, his deep satisfaction at having me safe and bonded and his. But underneath that, I sensed something else. Vulnerability that he rarely let show.
“What is it?” I asked, pulling back enough to see his face.
“I’m terrified of failing you,” he admitted. “Of all three of us. I don’t know how to be in a healthy relationship, let alone a pack. My entire life has been transactional, strategic. What if I can’t unlearn that? What if I hurt you without meaning to?”
