Page 61 of Claimed By My Exiled Alphas
“Comfortable,” I said immediately. “I’ve had enough formal for one day.”
“The diner?” Hollis suggested. “It’s nothing fancy, but the food’s good and they have big booths.”
“Perfect,” Cassian said.
We walked the three blocks to Mabel’s Diner, and I was hyperaware of the looks we got. Four people clearly together, clearly comfortable with each other. This was Hollow Haven’s first real look at what we might become.
Let them look, I decided. We weren’t doing anything wrong, and we weren’t the first pack to form in this town.
The booth Mabel led us to was in the back corner, curved seating that put us all close together. Jace slid in first, then me, then Hollis, with Cassian across from us. It felt right, being close enough to feel each of their warmth, seeing all three of them at once.
“So,” Mabel said, pulling out her order pad with a knowing expression. “You four are finally making it official?”
“Working on it,” Jace said cheerfully.
“About time. The whole town’s been watching you circle each other for weeks.” She winked at me. “You’ve got good taste, honey. These are three of the best men in Hollow Haven.”
After she took our orders and disappeared, Cassian said, “I think she just gave us her blessing.”
“Mabel’s blessing counts for a lot in this town,” Hollis said. “She’s been here forty years. If she approves, half the town will follow.”
“Is that how it works?” I asked. “Small town approval by committee?”
“More or less,” Jace grinned. “But Hollow Haven is pretty accepting of pack dynamics. We’ll get some gossip, but mostly people will be happy for us.”
The food arrived and we ate together, conversation flowing easily between topics. They asked about the bistro timeline and I updated them on the mold remediation progress. Cassian and Hollis discovered a shared interest in historical architecture. Jace told a story about a confused tourist that had us all laughing.
It felt normal. Easy. Like something that could actually work.
As we were finishing, Cassian’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it and his expression darkened before he controlled it.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Just my father’s lawyers. Another settlement offer.” He set his phone face-down on the table. “They’re persistent.”
“You don’t owe them anything,” Hollis said quietly. “You know that, right?”
“Intellectually, yes. Emotionally, it’s more complicated.” Cassian met our eyes. “They’re my family. Even though they cut me off, even though they’ve made it clear I’m dead to them, there’s still this part of me that wants their approval.”
“That’s normal,” I said, reaching across to touch his hand. “Wanting approval from people who hurt you doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.”
Jace leaned forward. “For what it’s worth, I think what you did took more courage than anything your family ever accomplished. Choosing principle over profit isn’t easy when you were raised to value the opposite.”
“Agreed,” Hollis said. “And you’re not alone anymore. Whatever happens with your family, you have us.”
Cassian looked around the table, and I saw something shift in his expression. Surprise, maybe. Or the beginning of understanding that he’d found something worth more than his family’s approval.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “That means more than you know.”
We left the diner as the sun was setting, painting Main Street in gold and orange light. Standing on the sidewalk, the four of us together, I felt the weight of what we’d agreed to. The complexity and the possibility in equal measure.
“So,” Jace said. “Same time next week? Sunday evening check-in?”
“I’ll host,” Hollis offered. “I have space above the bookstore and more books than any reasonable person needs.”
“Perfect,” Cassian said, making a note in his phone.
We stood there for another moment, none of us quite ready to separate even though the day had been long and emotionally exhausting.
