Page 140 of Knotting the Firefighters
Completely different from Sweetwater Falls.
Less gossip, more anonymity.
Exactly what we need for the pack's first public outing.
I'm acutely aware of the four Alphas trailing behind me like protective detail, their combined presence drawing curious glances from pedestrians who probably don't witness coordinated male groups this frequently.
Especially not groups clearly focused on a single Omega.
The dress Bear selected at the boutique swishes around my thighs with each step—soft fabric that moves beautifully, cut that's simultaneously modest and subtly provocative. It's shorter than my usual vintage pieces, hitting mid-thigh rather than the knee-length styles I typically favor.
Hence, the protective trailing.
They're convinced I'm going to accidentally flash the entire town.
I pause mid-stride, wheeling around to face them with hands planted on my hips.
"Are you four seriously going to walk behind me like Secret Service detail the entire afternoon? Pretty sure I can navigate the sidewalk without supervision."
Aidric clears his throat—a defensive gesture that suggests he knows his behavior is excessive but refuses to acknowledge it.
"We're simply maintaining an appropriate distance to ensure your comfort and safety in an unfamiliar environment."
Right.
That's definitely what this is.
Not territorial posturing at all.
"We're concerned about the wind," Silas adds with medical professional composure that's completely undermined by the way his eyes keep tracking to my hemline. "October weather is unpredictable. Wouldn't want you to experience a wardrobe malfunction."
Wardrobe malfunction.
That's their excuse.
Calder doesn't even attempt justification—just shrugs with an expression suggesting he's perfectly aware how ridiculous this is but doesn't care.
Bear grins with absolute shamelessness.
"I regret nothing. Picked that dress specifically because it looks amazing on you, and if that requires a protective escort to prevent public indecency charges, that's a price I'm willing to pay."
At least he's honest.
Absurdly possessive, but honest.
As if summoned by his words, October breeze gusts down the street—playful wind that lifts my dress just enough to reveal my upper thighs, the hem fluttering in ways that make all four Alphas tense simultaneously.
Synchronized protective instinct.
They're like a choreographed dance troupe of territorial behavior.
The movement reveals more than I intended—faint marks decorating my inner thighs, evidence of Bear's enthusiastic grip during our changing room encounter. The bruises are subtle, barely visible unless you're looking, but clearly apparent to Alphas with enhanced vision and vested interest in cataloging every detail of my appearance.
Calder's eyes narrow, attention laser-focused on the marks before his gaze swings to Bear with an expression caught between accusation and grudging respect.
"What happened in the changing room?"
Oh no.
