Page 79 of Claimed By My Exiled Alphas
“Okay,” I whispered, surrendering to the need I’d been fighting since the moment my scent started shifting. “Okay, you can come.”
“We’ll be there in ten minutes. Don’t try to come to the door, we’ll let ourselves in with the spare key. Just stay in your nest where you feel safe.”
He remembered. I’d told them about the spare key under the planter weeks ago, practical information shared during a conversation about emergency preparedness. He’d filed it away and now used it in exactly the way I needed, removing even the small barrier of having to answer the door.
“Thank you,” I said, and meant it for more than just the immediate offer of help.
“Always.” The promise in that single word made something warm bloom through the heat’s relentless pull. “We’re on our way.”
The call ended, and I let the phone fall into the nest beside me. Ten minutes. I had ten minutes to decide if I was ready for this,ready to be vulnerable in front of three alphas who mattered more than anyone had in years.
My body had already made the decision, was practically humming with anticipation at the promise of their presence. My mind was still catching up, trying to reconcile a year’s worth of defensive isolation with the reality of people who’d shown up consistently, who’d asked what I needed instead of assuming, who’d built trust through dozens of small moments instead of demanding it all at once.
I stayed curled in the nest, surrounded by their scents and the promise of care I’d been too scared to accept until my biology forced the issue.
Ten minutes until everything changed, until I stopped running from vulnerability and started trusting that these three men might actually be different from everyone who’d failed me before.
Ten minutes until I found out if pack was real or just another word for the kind of disappointment I’d been avoiding since Vincent proved that trust was just another weakness to exploit.
My body ached and my mind spun and my heart felt like it might crack open with the weight of wanting something I’d convinced myself I couldn’t have.
The house. Hollis’s grandmother’s house with the garden and four bedrooms and the promise of a future we’d all agreed to last Sunday. That’s where they’d probably been when I went dark. Planning our shared life while I tried to handle my heat alone like I always had.
But in ten minutes, I’d know.
In ten minutes, they’d be here, and I’d either let them in or send them away, and whatever happened next would determine if I was brave enough to believe that belonging was possible for someone as broken as I’d become.
So I waited, trembling with heat and fear and desperate hope, for the sound of their arrival.
Chapter 22
Jace
The moment Cassian ended the call with Talia, the three of us were already moving. We’d been at the house looking at paint samples for the kitchen when she went dark, and the past hour of trying to reach her had left us all on edge.
“She said we could come,” Cassian said, already grabbing his keys. “All of us. But we need supplies first.”
“I’ll get water and food,” Hollis said, heading for the kitchen area where we’d been storing renovation supplies. “Electrolytes, protein bars, fruit.”
“I’ll drive,” I said, because sitting still felt impossible and at least driving meant I was actively getting us closer to her. “We can stop at the apothecary if needed.”
“Already called ahead,” Cassian said, his phone to his ear. “They’re putting together a heat care package. We can pick it up on the way.”
Of course he’d already thought of that. Cassian’s ability to plan three steps ahead was exactly what we needed right now, even ifmy alpha instincts were screaming at me to forget logistics and just get to her.
We made it to my truck in record time, Hollis climbing in back with the supplies while Cassian took the passenger seat. The apothecary run took five minutes that felt like fifty, but then we were on the road to Talia’s cottage and every alpha instinct I possessed focused on one goal.
Get to her. Make sure she’s safe. Provide whatever she needs.
The scent hit all three of us the moment we pulled into her driveway. Vanilla and honey, yes, but transformed into something richer and more potent. Brown sugar and caramelized heat, the kind of scent that bypassed rational thought and went straight to the base of my brain where instinct lived.
She was in heat. Full, undeniable, biological heat that called to every alpha cell in my body.
“Everyone stay calm,” Cassian said, but his voice had gone deeper, rougher. He was fighting the same instincts I was. “We agreed we’d follow her lead, let her tell us what she needs.”
“Right.” I forced myself to breathe through my mouth, trying to reduce the impact of her scent. “Her choice. Her heat. We’re here to help, not overwhelm.”
Hollis made a sound that might have been agreement, his hands gripping the supplies like they could anchor him.
