They struggled to right themselves, then finally straightened and stared at Aleksi, who was still poised between my legs.
“Starting without us?” Taimyr quipped with a mocking grin.
Aleksi’s grip on me tightened. “How did you find this place?”
“Same way you found the chalet,” Kenai answered. “She’s ours. We’d find her anywhere.”
For a long moment, none of them moved—but their chests heaved with aggression. Alpha pheromones flooded the air until my head was spinning. The bonds between us vibrated with escalating hostility, but I knew there was a much better way to release that than through a fight.
“Aleksi…” I cupped his cheek and gently turned his face toward mine. “Do you trust me?”
A tiny bit of the fight drained out of him. “With everything, my omega.”
“Then you can trustthem.”
For a heartbeat, his armor slammed back into place—but I didn’t let him retreat. “You don’t have to do that,” I whispered. “I see you, Aleksi. Not for your strength—or at least not only that. You’re exactly what we need. Someone who will stand with those who need protection until the very end.”
I held his gaze. “Be mine, Aleksi. Beours.”
The bond between us softened, no longer pulled taut by doubt but loosened by surrender. This massive, battle-worn alpha who everyone saw as a brute—he’d been starving for exactly this. To be seen. To be understood. To be valued for more than his physical strength.
He looked at my two mates again, then nodded once. “Whatever our omega desires.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Aleksi
The ancient library held us in its hushed embrace, the scent of aged parchment cut by the pheromones warring in the air. My omega—our omega—stood before me, her hand outstretched in invitation. Beside her were the two alphas who had always stood opposite me. Rivals.
My body screamedpossession. Every instinct demanded I claim what was mine—drive off these rivals who dared interfere with a mate bond.Mymate bond. My fists clenched at my sides, muscles coiled for violence that had always been my first language.
But Sylvie’s eyes held me still. Not with fear or command, but with that devastating trust she offered so freely.Be ours, she’dsaid—as if it were simple. As if I knew how to be anything other than alone.
“Whatever our omega desires.” I’d surrendered the words, but my body hadn’t yet accepted them.
Kenai moved first, which of course he did. He always moved through the world without thought for risk or consequence. His magical prowess had kept him protected, valued. He never understood how easy that had made his life.
His approach wasn’t aggressive, wasn’t challenging. He simply shifted closer, his hands at Sylvie’s hips. The white reindeer’s scarred hands stayed visible, peaceful—but I could smell his readiness to fight if needed. For her. Always for her. At least in that, we were united.
“You don’t have to trust us yet,” Kenai said quietly, his jovial smile carrying the same charm I’d always found infuriating. “But trusther.”
Taimyr snorted—that irreverent sound I’d heard so many times across union tables. “What he means is, stop looking like you’re about to rip our throats out. You’re making our omega anxious.”
He was right. Through this new bond, still raw, I could feel Sylvie’s concern threading between desire and worry. She wanted this—wanted all of us—but my rigid posture gave everything away. The bond pulsed with her emotions: need, yes, but also something softer. A desire to heal, to create something new from the shattered pieces.
I forced my shoulders to drop, unclenched my fists. The movement felt like cracking ice around my heart.
“Better,” Sylvie murmured, and her approval traveled through our bond like the first taste of spring after an endless winter. I let it soothe the frantic beating of my heart.
She stepped closer again, her fingers threading through my hair before she rose onto her toes, her soft lips finding mine.
It was a question, a final ask for permission. She didn’t push, just opened for me, and at the taste of her, I knew I was finished.
She tasted like cinnamon, and I knew my mate had a tendency toward that same fiery nature. She was clever—and so impossibly brave—to stand between three alphas who’d spent years as adversaries and demand we become something more. To see past my anger and isolation, past the careful walls I’d built, and insist I deserved this softness. This belonging.
I deepened the kiss, pouring everything I couldn’t say into it, and felt her melt against me. My hands found her waist, steadying us both. Behind her, I sensed rather than saw Kenai and Taimyr. Not challenging, just…there. Patient in a way I’d never expected from either of them.
It should have been impossible—sharing this moment, sharing her. But Sylvie’s contentment through the bond was undeniable, and somewhere beneath my possessive instincts, something whispered:herd. The word felt foreign, and I didn’t know what to do with it except follow Sylvie’s lead into this unknown territory.
