Page 59 of Holly Jolly Heat
"According to my grandmother? Yes. She said fated mates exist because the universe knows exactly what you need, even when you're fighting it."
"Your grandmother sounds wise."
"She was. She'd like you."
"How do you know?"
"Because she valued independence and strength. She'd respect your ambition." I squeezed her hand gently. "And she'd tell you that being pack doesn't mean losing yourself. It means having people who see you clearly and love you anyway."
Michelle's eyes were bright again, but not with fear this time. "You all keep saying things like that. Like it's simple."
"It is simple. We see you. We love what we see. We want to be part of your life however you'll let us."
"Even if I'm difficult?"
"Especially then."
"Even if I don't know how to do the omega things?"
"Michelle." I stood, keeping hold of her hand, and looked down at her. "We don't want omega things. We want you things. The stress-baking and the workaholic tendencies and the fierce protectiveness. The way you fight for your clients like they're family. The way you're scared to care but do it anyway. The way you're trying so hard to maintain control while everything inside you is screaming to let go."
"How do you know all that?"
"Because I watch. It's what I do. I watch for threats, for dangers, for problems. But I also watch for truth. And the truth is, you're falling for us, Michelle. You're just too scared to admit it yet."
She stared up at me, and I could see her struggling, wanting to deny it, wanting to run, but also wanting to stay right here and see what happened if she stopped fighting.
"I'm terrified," she whispered.
"I know."
"This could ruin everything. My business, my reputation, my carefully planned life."
"Or it could make everything better."
"You don't know that."
"Neither do you. But we won't find out if you keep running."
She was close enough now that I could see the gold flecks in her eyes, could smell the sweet shift in her scent as fear transformed into something else. Something warmer.
"Dex," she breathed, and my name on her lips was prayer and question and possibility all at once.
I wanted to kiss her. Wanted to pull her against me and show her that pack meant safety, not danger. Meant home, not prison.
But that was her choice to make.
So I waited.
And watched her decide.
"Hot chocolate's ready!" Maya's voice shattered the moment. "Mom says everyone has to come have some because it's tradition after ladder incidents!"
Michelle laughed, slightly hysterical but genuine. "There's a tradition for ladder incidents?"
"Apparently now there is."
She stepped back, and I let her go. Small moments. Building trust. Letting her set the pace.
