Page 93 of Claimed By My Exiled Alphas
“Coffee?” Cassian suggested when we left. “We could stop by The Brew before my meeting.”
The Brew was busier than the hardware store or bookstore, full of mid-morning patrons getting their caffeine fix. Sarah, the owner who’d served us during the coffee shop meeting, greeted us with a knowing smile.
“Well well,” she said. “Look who finally made it official. I’ve been taking bets on when you four would figure it out.”
“You’ve been taking bets?” Talia asked, sounding somewhere between amused and mortified.
“Small town, honey. We take what entertainment we can get.” Sarah pulled four mugs from under the counter. “Usual for everyone? And congratulations, by the way. You four are good together. Anyone with eyes could see that.”
The easy acceptance was almost overwhelming. Through the bond I felt Talia’s relief mixing with lingering anxiety. Three people now, three people who’d responded with warmth instead of judgment.
But then Gerald Whitmore walked in.
Gerald was old money, had been on the town council for twenty years, and held deeply traditional views about pack formations. I’d dealt with him enough during my ranger work to know he had strong opinions about “proper” relationship structures.
His eyes landed on our group immediately, tracked to Talia’s visible bite marks, and his expression hardened.
“Quite the spectacle,” he said, voice carrying across the coffee shop. “Three alphas with one omega. That’s not a pack formation, that’s greed.”
The friendly chatter died. Every eye in The Brew turned toward us.
Through the bond I felt Talia freeze, felt her old fear of judgment rising. Felt Cassian’s anger and Hollis’s protective instincts surging in response.
But I also felt something else. Through all three bonds connecting to Talia, I felt our pack unity. We were stronger together than any of us were alone.
“That’s not greed,” I said calmly, stepping slightly in front of Talia without thinking about it. “That’s four people choosingeach other. Choosing to build something unconventional because it works for us.”
“Pack formations have rules,” Gerald insisted. “Traditional structures that have worked for generations. What you’re doing makes a mockery of those traditions.”
“With respect, Gerald,” Hollis said quietly but firmly, “those traditions evolved to serve the people in them. When traditions stop serving and start constraining, they need to evolve again.”
“Easy for you to say when you’re part of the chaos,” Gerald snapped.
“It’s not chaos,” Cassian said, and his voice had gone cold and controlled. “It’s coordination. It’s three alphas who’ve learned to work together instead of compete. It’s an omega who’s strong enough to hold bonds with all of us. And it’s none of your business how we structure our pack.”
“It becomes my business when you flaunt it publicly,” Gerald countered.
“We’re not flaunting anything,” Talia said, and I felt her draw strength from the bonds, from knowing we stood with her. “We’re just existing. Getting coffee like everyone else. The fact that you consider our existence a spectacle says more about you than it does about us.”
Several people in The Brew nodded. I caught sight of Martha from the farmer’s market watching with approval. Of Wes Thatcher, my colleague from the ranger station, giving me a subtle thumbs up.
“You’ll regret this,” Gerald said, but the conviction had left his voice. “When it falls apart, when the bonds become too complicated, when someone gets hurt. You’ll see I was right.”
“Maybe we will,” Talia said. “Maybe this won’t work and we’ll fail spectacularly. But we’re willing to take that risk. Because what we have is worth trying for.”
Gerald left without his coffee, and the tension in The Brew gradually dissolved into supportive murmurs. Sarah brought our drinks over personally.
“On the house,” she said. “For standing up to that pompous ass. Someone needed to tell him that his opinion isn’t the only one that matters.”
“Thank you,” Talia said quietly.
“Don’t thank me. Thank yourselves for having the courage to be who you are.” Sarah squeezed Talia’s shoulder. “This town needs more of that, not less.”
We finished our coffee amid supportive glances and a few outright congratulations from other patrons. By the time we left, Talia’s anxiety had mostly faded, replaced by cautious hope.
“That wasn’t as bad as I thought,” she admitted as we walked toward Cassian’s meeting location.
“You were amazing,” I said. “The way you stood up to Gerald, refused to be ashamed. That was incredible.”
