"We could also pursue a restraining order," Micah added. "Given the public nature of her threats and her willingness to dig into your personal history, there's grounds for it."
"Will that actually stop her?" I asked, curling my fingers around the warm mug.
"It'll give us legal recourse if she violates it," Garrett said, his thumb stroking absently over my shoulder. "And it sends a message. We're not going to let her keep doing this."
"There's something else," Oliver said carefully, settling into the spot beside Micah. "Something we should have told youbefore. Trinity... she's been making noise about challenging you. Formally."
I frowned. "Challenging me? What does that mean?"
"It's an old tradition," Micah explained. "Mostly fallen out of practice, but technically still legal. If an omega believes another omega has wrongfully claimed their pack, they can issue a formal challenge. It's... archaic, honestly. Most courts won't enforce it anymore."
"She was never part of our pack," Levi said, his voice hard. "She has no grounds."
"We know that," Oliver said. "But she's been telling anyone who'll listen that she had an understanding with us. That we were practically engaged."
"Which is a lie," Garrett growled.
"Of course it is. But she's trying to build a narrative." Oliver's expression was troubled. "The market confrontation hurt her credibility, but she's not giving up. She's been making calls, reaching out to old family connections. Trying to find someone who'll take her side."
I absorbed this, the warmth of the morning fading slightly. "So what do we do?"
"We document everything," Micah said. "Every interaction, every threat, every piece of evidence that she was never part of this pack. We build our own case. And if she tries to challenge you formally..." His jaw tightened. "We fight back."
"Together," Levi added, reaching up to squeeze my hand. "You're not alone in this anymore, Daphne. Whatever she throws at us, we face it as a pack."
As a pack. The words settled into my bones, warm and reassuring. Yesterday, I'd faced Trinity alone. Today, I had four alphas ready to stand beside me.
"Together," I agreed, and meant it.
Garrett pressed a kiss to my temple. "She's not going to win this," he murmured against my hair. "I won't let her hurt you again."
"None of us will," Oliver said firmly. "Trinity had her chance to walk away gracefully. She chose not to. Now she has to deal with the consequences." I leaned into Garrett's warmth, letting the combined presence of my pack wash over me. Trinity was still out there. The fight wasn't over. But for the first time, I wasn't facing it from a place of fear. I was facing it from a place of belonging…that made all the difference.
Chapter Forty-Five
Daphne
Aweek had passed since I'd officially agreed to become a pack. Seven days of adjusting to this new reality, of learning what it meant to belong to four men who looked at me like I'd hung the moon. Seven days of stolen kisses in the kitchen, of falling asleep in my nest surrounded by their scents, of waking up to texts that made me smile before I'd even had coffee.
I'd gone back to my cabin after that first night, needing the familiar space to process everything that had happened. The pack hadn't pushed, they'd simply driven me home, helped me inside, and made me promise to call if I needed anything. Garrett had lingered longest, his kiss at my door leaving me breathless and wanting more.
But even from my cabin, I wasn't alone. Not really. The group chat had become a constant presence in my life, a steady stream of messages that made me feel connected even when we were apart. Levi sent memes and random observations. Micah shared articles he thought I'd find interesting. Garrett sent pictures of things he was building—a new bookshelf, repairs to the back fence, mysterious projects he refused to explain. And Oliver...Oliver texted like he was writing letters, long and thoughtful and full of the kind of questions that made me feel truly seen.
They'd also been taking turns stopping by. Never pushy, never demanding—just present. Levi had shown up with takeout and stayed to watch terrible reality TV. Micah had brought books and sat reading quietly while I worked in my garden. Garrett had fixed the squeaky hinge on my back door that I'd been ignoring for months.
Through it all, Trinity had been silent. That was the part that worried me. After the scene at the market, after her very public meltdown and the threats she'd screamed for everyone to hear, I'd expected... something. Retaliation. Escalation. The formal challenge Micah had warned me about. Instead, there had been nothing. No sightings in town, no whispered rumors, no mysterious phone calls or ominous letters.
Just silence.
Sheriff Morrison had called twice to check in, assuring me that Trinity hadn't violated any laws since the confrontation. She'd apparently left town—"visiting family," according to the few people who'd seen her go. But something about the way he'd said it made me think he didn't believe it was that simple.
Neither did I.
Trinity wasn't the type to give up. She was the type to regroup, to plan, to wait for the perfect moment to strike. The silence didn't feel like surrender—it felt like the held breath before a storm. I couldn't live my life waiting for the other shoe to drop. That was what I kept telling myself, anyway, as I went through the motions of my routine. Tending my garden. Preparing for the winter market season. Learning how to be in a relationship, four relationships, technically, without constantly bracing for impact.
It was harder than I'd expected.
Not the pack part, that was surprisingly easy, natural in a way I hadn't anticipated. The hard part was my own brain, the constant whisper of doubt that told me this couldn't last, that something would go wrong, that I didn't deserve this much happiness.
