But then laughter drifts from down the hall, light and unrestrained. Skyla’s voice hits my ears first, sweet and breathless. Followed by Alex’s deep, rumbling laugh and Dakota’s helpless wheeze.
I let out a slow breath, tension easing from my shoulders. Whatever happened, they’re clearly fine.
I eye the wreckage one more time and mutter under my breath, “I loved that chair.”
Then I follow the sound of their laughter down the hall. The bedroom door’s half open. Warm light spills out into the hallway, flickering from the string oftwinkly lights Sky hung along the back wall. I pause in the doorway, taking in the sight before me.
Skyla’s nestled in the center of her nest, surrounded by blankets, pillows, and the faint scent of peonies and musk. Dakota’s sprawled beside her, bare feet crossed, wearing soft gray joggers and one of my old T-shirts that hangs loose on his frame. Alex is on her other side in only a pair of black sweatpants, his hair still damp from a shower.
They look so sweet and comfortable. All that’s missing is Tadeo.
Sky’s laughing at something Dakota said, her face open and easy.
It's so bizarre how clearly I canfeelher.
The soft pulse of our bond hums low in the back of my mind. Warm, golden, and full of her quiet joy. Her happiness washes through me, sweet and gentle, and I can’t help the smile that pulls across my face. She feelsgoodin my head.
I linger there, soaking it in.
Then Alex’s head tilts, his easy laughter fading as he glances toward the doorway. His blue eyes catch mine, and the grin that spreads across his face is pure trouble.
“Hey, babe.”
I lift an eyebrow, stepping farther into the room. “What happened to my chair?”
The laughter instantly dies.
Skyla and Dakota both freeze—wide-eyed, guilty as pups caught in the trash. Dakota’s still half buried in blankets, and Skyla’s got the kind of look that screamsI’ve made a terrible mistake.
Alex, of course, doesn’t miss a beat. He sits up straighter, face perfectly serious. “Sky sat in it,” he sayssmoothly. “Andpoof—it burst into pieces. Whole thing went down like it owed her money.”
“Is that right?” I stare at Alex for a long second, unamused.
“Yeah,” he says, way too casual for my liking.
I glance at Skyla and have to bite back a laugh. Her sweet face is flushed to the tips of her ears, mouth pressed tight like she’s afraid if she opens it, the truth will spill out. “It shocked me.” Her words are stiff as our bond pulses with a flare of guilt.
I hum at her response, not believing it.
Skyla’s barely over five feet. I’ve held throw pillows that weigh more. There’s no way in hell she broke that chair.
Alex tips his chin up, the look on his face way too innocent to be real. “What?”
“You were fucking in my chair,” I say flatly. “Weren’t you?”
Dakota immediately bursts, “Sorry!”
My eyes snap to Skyla. She blinks, then shrugs—like she’s already decided she’s not taking the fall alone. “It was Alex’s fault.”
Alex reels back, clutching at his chest. “Myfault?” he gasps, laughing even as his mouth drops open in mock offense. “Unbelievable. I’m the victim here.”
“Sure you are,” I mutter, finally letting the smile break through. ”Can you at least haul what’s left out to the corner before someone trips on it.”
Alex gives a lazy salute, still grinning. “Aye, boss.”
“I’ll help,” Dakota says, already standing. His smile is soft when he turns toward me. “Sorry.” He grimaces, then rises up on his toes, pressing a kiss to my lips before heading for the door. The warmth of it lingers, steady and easy, like everything he does.
When they’re gone, Skyla unfolds herself from her nest. Her little feet make no sound on the floor as she closes the space between us. Then her arms slip around my waist, warm and sweet.
