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She’s burning again - just beneath the surface - and this time, she’s looking at me.

Not the CEO. Not the control freak in custom tailoring. Not the asshole who reinforced this room with his own hands and walked away when she begged.

Me.

Her Alpha.

And she jolts like her nervous system just rebooted.

I take one step in, and the door seals behind me with a hiss.

The rest of them? They’re done here. Their part in this little heat-driven Greek tragedy is over.

Because she’s wrecked. Ruined. Drenched in their half-assed efforts, but still hungry.

Still not complete.

And the bond she’s waiting for - the one that finishes this, the one that seals it - is mine.

I didn’t break.

And she feels it the moment I step closer.

Time to show her exactly what restraint really looks like, and what happens when I stop holding it.

“Took you long enough,” she says, voice sharp as broken glass dipped in sarcasm. “Or did you just need three alphas to warm me up for you first?”

Oh, perfect. She’s mad. Fantastic.Excellent.

Definitely not what my overworked, overstimulated, heavily-repressed brain needed after pacing the estate like a sociopathic Roomba for the past four hours.

“If I’d known you were handing out participation trophies,” I say flatly, “maybe I’d have joined the queue.”

She crosses her arms. Which wouldn’t be a problem if she weren’t still wearing Kai’s goddamn hoodie like it’s a uniform for poor life choices.

That thing needs to be burned, and quickly.

“No smug little speech tonight?” she snaps. “No filthy monologue through the door?”

I arch a brow. “You missed me?”

She laughs. It’s not cute, and it’s not flirty.

It’s the laugh of a woman who’s two seconds away from stabbing me with a blunt spoon.

“Please. You think you matter enough for me to miss you?”

“Careful, Omega,” I grin at her. “Don’t mistake my silence for surrender.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling abandonment now?” She stands, the sheet slipping a little, and I watch it happen like it’s a tactical maneuver. “Because from where I was standing - dripping, shaking, waiting - you weren’t silent. You weregone.”

“I figured you had your hands full,” I say. “Theo and Ash seemed... occupied.”

She glares, hair wild, eyes brighter than they have any right to be, chest still flushed with heat.

“And you were the one I wanted to walk through that door,” she spits. “I felt you, Lucian. You were there. I reached for you.”

I step closer. “You bonded to them.”

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