Page 69 of Do You Even Hex, Bro?
We all watch as she stands, gathering her plate and empty bottle. Sean jumps up to take them from her hands. "I got it," he insists. "You're our guest."
"Thanks." She nods to all of us. “Um… good night."
"Good night," we say together, staring after her as she climbs the stairs.
None of us move until we hear her bedroom door close.
The silence that follows feels weighted, significant. And in a house with four alpha wolves, silence is usually as rare as humility. But now it stretches between us, none of us wanting to break it.
I stare at the space where she was sitting, her scent still lingering in the air. Something has shifted with her arrival. Something fuckinghuge. It feels like we've been waiting for her without knowing it, like pieces of a puzzle we didn’t know was busted up are finally sliding into place. But the picture isn't complete yet. There's still so much we don't know about her, so much we need to learn.
"She liked my pizza best," Sean finally says, his voice triumphant but unusually somber.
None of us bother to argue. The competition seems meaningless now. Because even though she's upstairs and not fully part of the pack yet, we all feel it. That sense of walking on thin ice. One wrong move and everything could shatter.
Our mate is here.
Under our roof.
Almost within reach.
And none of us want to be the one who scares her away.
Chapter
Eighteen
REGINA
Iwake up with a jolt, momentarily disoriented by yet another morning with unfamiliar surroundings. For a heartbeat, I think I'm still at Villeneuve's, before memories of yesterday rush back.
The wolves.
The agreement.
Moving into their Victorian frat bro house.
What surprises me the most isn't where I am, though, but how well I slept. Despite everything—my fear of wolves, my precarious situation, the fact that I'm temporarily living with four giant alpha shifters who think I'm their destined mate—I slept better than I have in years.
No nightmares.
No waking in cold sweats.
Just deep, dreamless darkness.
Maybe it's the fact that this is the first time in five years I've slept without Kyle's energy signature buzzing in the background. Or maybe it's something about this house. The strange comfort I found in their scents, the feeling of safety I can't quite explain or justify.
Safety.
Withwolves.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I stretch, sinking deeper into the plush mattress. Sunlight streams through the sage green curtains the wolves picked out for me, and I know they did because there isn’t any dust on them and there are still creases from being fresh out of the packaging. The room feels welcoming despite its unfamiliarity, and I allow myself a moment to simply exist without panic or urgency.
Reality creeps back soon enough.
Kyle is still out there.
