Page 42 of Claimed By My Exiled Alphas
“Why?”
“Because it’s disrespectful. Because you’re being so kind and patient with me, and I’m essentially telling you that you’re not enough. That I need more than what you’re offering.”
“Or,” Jace said slowly, “you’re telling me that different people meet different needs, and that’s okay.”
I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to believe him so badly it made my chest ache. But decades of conditioning told me that wanting multiple people meant I was greedy, indecisive, unable to commit. That healthy relationships were about finding one person who completed you, not collecting a group of people who each offered something different.
“Hollis makes me feel safe,” I heard myself say. “Really, deeply safe in a way I haven’t felt since before Chicago. When I’m at Pine & Pages, sitting in one of those reading chairs with tea and a book while he works nearby, my whole body relaxes. Like I can finally stop waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
Jace nodded, encouraging me to continue.
“He never pushes. Never demands more than I’m ready to give. But he’s always there, steady and patient, offering support without making me feel like I owe him anything in return.” I paused, trying to find the right words. “It’s like he understands that healing takes time, and he’s willing to let me move at my own pace.”
“That sounds like exactly what you need right now.”
“It is. But then there’s you.” I looked at Jace, taking in his ranger uniform and the way he sat on this log like he was part of the forest itself. “And you make me feel alive again. Excited about things, curious about the world, brave enough to try new experiences. When we’re cooking together or talking about foraging, I remember who I was before Vincent. The person who loved learning, who found joy in discovery.”
Something shifted in Jace’s expression, something warm and pleased that made my heart skip.
“And Cassian,” I continued, the words coming easier now. “Cassian makes me feel competent. Valuable. When he talks to me about business plans and marketing strategies, when he offers to connect me with investors, he treats me like a professional. Like someone whose skills and knowledge matter. Not just an omega who needs protecting, but a chef with real talent who deserves success.”
I stopped, suddenly aware of how much I’d revealed. How completely I’d exposed the tangled mess of my feelings for three different men.
“That sounds terrible, doesn’t it?” I said quietly. “Using different people to meet different needs. Treating them like they’re interchangeable parts in some system designed to fix me.”
“No,” Jace said firmly. “That sounds like you’re being honest about what you need and where you’re finding it. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“But I can’t have all three.” The words came out flat, matter-of-fact. “That’s not how this works. Eventually I’ll have to choose, and someone’s going to get hurt, and it’ll be my fault for being too confused or too greedy or too broken to make a clear decision.”
“Says who?”
The question echoed the one he’d asked earlier, and I realized I didn’t have a good answer. Not one based on reality, anyway. Just fear and old programming and Vincent’s voice in my head telling me I was too much trouble, too demanding, too fundamentally flawed to deserve what I wanted.
“Vincent used to say I was high-maintenance,” I admitted. “That I required too much attention, too much validation, too much emotional support. That any alpha would get exhausted trying to meet all my needs.”
Jace’s jaw tightened, and I saw anger flash across his features before he controlled it. “Vincent was wrong about a lot of things.”
“Was he, though?” I pulled my knees tighter to my chest. “Because here I am, needing three different people instead of being satisfied with one. That kind of proves his point, doesn’t it?”
“No.” The word came out hard, uncompromising. “It proves that you’re a complex person with multiple needs, and that’s completely normal. Especially for someone who’s healing from trauma.”
“Or it proves that I’m so broken I can’t function in normal relationships anymore.”
Jace was quiet for a long moment, and I watched emotions play across his face. Finally, he said, “Can I tell you what I see when I look at you?”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear this, but I nodded anyway.
“I see someone brave enough to leave everything familiar and start over in a place where she doesn’t know anyone anymore. I see a chef who’s so talented that people remember meals you cooked years ago. I see someone who talks to birds and remembers childhood promises and gets excited about foraging for mushrooms.” He paused, making sure I was really listening. “I see someone who’s healing, not someone who’s broken.”
“Those aren’t the same thing?”
“No. Healing means you’re in process, moving forward, working through difficult stuff. Broken means you’re permanently damaged beyond repair.” His voice softened. “You’re not broken, Talia. You’re just learning how to trust again after someone taught you that trust was dangerous.”
I wanted to believe him. Wanted to accept that maybe my feelings for three different men weren’t evidence of fundamental damage but simply honest responses to people who treated me well in different ways.
But there was still that voice in my head, Vincent’s voice, telling me I was asking for too much. Wanting too much. Being too much.
“What if I hurt them?” I asked quietly. “What if I let all three of them care about me, and then I can’t handle it and I run away again? What if I’m not actually capable of the kind of relationship any of them deserve?”
