17
ACCEPTANCE OF WHO I CAN BE
~SERENITY~
Serenity retreated to her assigned quarters, a suite larger than her entire former apartment.
The luxury was overwhelming—a king-sized bed draped in Egyptian cotton, a bathroom with a tub that could fit three people, a sitting area with its own fireplace. These men lived differently than she had ever known.
After a quick exploration, she changed into the silk pajamas someone had thoughtfully laid out for her. The high thread count felt foreign against her skin—another reminder of how drastically her life had changed in mere days.
She hesitated, looking at the three items she'd placed on a chair. After a moment's deliberation, she gathered them and approached the bed.
Instinct took over as she arranged them—Darius's sweater at the head of the bed, where its scent would be closest to her during sleep. Lucian's pillowcase draped over her own pillow. Ronan's jacket placed at the foot of the bed, like a sentinel.
The arrangement felt right in a way she couldn't articulate. When she finally slipped between the sheets, surrounded by the mingled scents of the three alphas, something inside her settled—a tension she hadn't even recognized relaxing.
Staring at the ornate ceiling, Serenity's mind raced despite her physical exhaustion. Her life had become unrecognizable. A month ago, she'd been a financial consultant with a modest apartment and a carefully constructed life. Now she was the heiress to a criminal empire, living in a mansion with three alpha billionaires who each represented different facets of the underworld she was meant to control.
Darius, with his polished exterior and razor-sharp business acumen. The way he looked at her, as if assessing both her worth and her potential—it unnerved her, but also made her want to prove herself. His touch earlier, guiding her through the mansion, had been properly distant yet somehow intimate. She couldn't deny the flutter in her stomach when he spoke in that cultured voice, especially when his control slipped just slightly to reveal the power beneath.
Then there was Lucian, calculating and cerebral. His intelligence matched hers in a way few others ever had. Their verbal sparring throughout the evening had been exhilarating—challenging her to think three steps ahead. The way his eyes followed her movements, missing nothing, made her feel simultaneously exposed and fascinating. What would it be like, she wondered, to have that intense focus directed entirely on her pleasure?
And Ronan. God, Ronan was dangerous in an entirely different way. Raw and unapologetic, he carried his power without the veneer of civilization the others maintained. His bluntness should have repelled her, but instead, it drew her in. At least with him, she knew exactly where she stood. The memory of his calloused fingers brushing against hers when he handed her his jacket sent an entirely inappropriate heat through her core.
"This is insane," she whispered to the empty room. "I can't want all of them."
But her body disagreed, responding to each alpha in different but equally powerful ways. Her rational mind understood the dynamics at play—omega biology responding to compatible alpha pheromones. But knowing the science didn't make
The first blush of dawn filtered through the gossamer curtains, casting the room in a pale golden glow. Serenity's lashes fluttered against her cheeks as consciousness slowly claimed her. Her mind, ever analytical, began cycling through the previous day's events before her eyes fully opened.
The estate. The three alphas. The uneasy alliance that had thrown her life into disarray.
She took a deep breath, inhaling the calming scent of the nest they'd created together last night—a gesture that had touched something primal within her, despite her determination to remain detached. The air carried traces of each alpha: Darius's clean, spiced elegance; Ronan's earthy intensity; and closest of all, Lucian's sophisticated bergamot and amber warmth.
Too close.
Her eyes snapped open as she registered the weight of an arm draped possessively around her waist, the solid heat of a body pressed against her back. She froze, immediately cataloging sensations: the steady rhythm of breath against her neck, the unmistakable scent that identified her unexpected bedmate before she even turned to look.
Lucian.
His face in sleep was transformed—the calculating sharpness softened, his usual mask of control temporarily abandoned. Golden-brown hair fell across his forehead, and his lips, so often curved in knowing smirks, were relaxed. He looked almost vulnerable.
"What the hell?" she whispered, more confused than angry.
The arm around her waist tightened imperceptibly, drawing her closer against the lean strength of his chest. Evenunconscious, he radiated the quiet confidence that seemed as essential to him as breathing.
Serenity's immediate instinct was to shove him away. No alpha had the right to enter her private space uninvited, regardless of the unusual arrangement they'd formed. Yet something held her back—a complex tangle of emotions she wasn't prepared to examine too closely.
She shifted carefully, turning in his embrace to study his face. The intimacy of the position sent an unwelcome flutter through her stomach. Up close, she could see the faint shadows beneath his eyes, evidence that the composed facade he maintained came at a cost.
"You should have asked permission," she murmured, though she knew he couldn't hear her.
Her golden eyes with their distinctive red flecks traced the strong line of his jaw, the elegant slope of his nose. In sleep, the power he embodied was no less present, just temporarily contained—like a predator at rest.
She should wake him. Demand an explanation. Reassert the boundaries he'd so casually crossed.
Instead, she found herself relaxing incrementally into his embrace, her body responding to his proximity in ways her mind wasn't ready to acknowledge. The omega in her recognized his scent as safety, even as her rational self rebelled against the very notion.