"Yeah, that too." His expression turned more serious. "Look, I know we're moving fast. I know this is overwhelming. But can you just... think about it? About whether you want to explore this, see where it goes? You don't have to decide anything today. Just don't close the door completely because you're scared."
I looked up at him, this Alpha with his easy grin and unexpected depth, offering me patience when I expected pressure. "And if I can't do it? If I try and I just... break?"
"Then we'll be there to help pick up the pieces." He said it simply, like it was obvious. "That's what pack means."
Before I could respond, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out to find a text from Lynn:Call me ASAP. Market gossip is WILD today. You okay?
I showed the message to Levi with a rueful expression. "This is going to be everywhere by tonight."
"Probably," he agreed. "Does that change anything?"
Did it? Everyone already thought I was being courted. The gossip was already spreading. Trinity had already done her worst, and the town had largely taken my side. The damage—or perhaps the opportunity—was already done.
"I need time," I said finally. "To think. To figure out what I actually want instead of just reacting out of fear."
"That's fair." Levi stepped back, giving me space. "Take all the time you need. We'll be around. That and I assume you may want to meet the last one of us and get to know us slowly before you make a choice. We are fine with just friends first. "
I bit my lip and gave a nod. I climbed into my truck, started the engine, and sat there for a moment watching him walk back toward the market. Watching the way people greeted him easily, how he fit into the community's fabric with an effortlessness I'd never managed.
But maybe that was okay. Maybe I didn't have to fit the same way he did. Maybe there was room for different kinds of belonging. The drive home was quiet, my mind churning over everything that had happened. Trinity's accusations, Eleanor's support, Levi's patient offer, the town's surprising acceptance. It was too much to process, too many variables to control.
But as I pulled up to my cabin and saw the familiar garden stretching out before me, I felt something settle in my chest. This was still mine. My sanctuary, my peace, my carefully cultivated life. Nothing that happened today changed that. Except... maybe it had changed me. Just a little. Just enough to wonder if there might be room in my carefully controlled world for something unexpected.
As I unloaded the truck and carried my remaining goods inside, I caught myself looking down the road again. Towardthe property where four Alphas were building something new. Toward possibility and risk and the terrifying chance of connection.
I wasn't ready to say yes. But maybe—maybe—I was ready to automatically say no. That felt like progress. Terrifying, uncomfortable progress, but progress nonetheless.
Chapter Fifteen
Daphne
Monday morning arrived with a blanket of fog so thick I could barely see past my porch railing. I stood there with my coffee, breathing in and trying to wake myself up. I hadn't slept well. My mind had churned through the events of Sunday's market, making me toss and turn. My mind kept going to Trinity's accusations, Levi's patient offer, Eleanor's fierce support, the weight of the entire town's expectations settling on my shoulders like a too-heavy coat. Underneath it all, that persistent question that had haunted me through the dark hours; what do I actually want?
I'd spent Sunday evening ignoring my phone, which had buzzed with increasing frequency until I'd finally turned off the notifications. Lynn, Mrs. Morrison, even a few people I barely knew—all wanting to check in, to gossip, to offer opinions I hadn't asked for. The attention was suffocating, pressing in from all sides.
This was why I lived alone. This was why I'd built these walls. Because the moment you let people see you, the moment youbecome visible, everyone thought they had a right to an opinion about your life.
I took another sip of coffee, letting the bitter warmth ground me. The garden needed weeding—there was always weeding to do. The greenhouse needed attention. I had preserves to make, herbs to dry, a dozen tasks that would fill the day with a productive routine that would keep my thoughts from spiraling.
Except my thoughts kept spiraling anyway.
We'd like to court you. If you're interested.
Levi's words, so simple and direct, had been echoing in my head since yesterday. Not demanding. Just... offering. Like it was a choice I actually got to make instead of something that would be decided for me or taken away without warning. The problem was, I didn't know how to make that choice. I didn't know how to weigh the terrifying possibility of connection against the safety of isolation. I didn't know how to trust that this wouldn't end the way everything else had—with me alone again, walls rebuilt even higher, another scar added to the collection.
A sound cut through the fog—an engine, unfamiliar, coming down the road. My shoulders tensed instinctively. It was too early for deliveries, too early for casual visits. Through the gray mist, I could just make out headlights, then the shape of a truck—not Garrett's blue one, but something darker, sleeker. The truck slowed as it approached my property, then turned into my driveway. My heart sped up, pulse suddenly loud in my ears. I wasn't expecting anyone. Wasn't ready for anyone. Not today, not when I was still trying to sort through the chaos in my head.
The truck stopped near my porch, and the engine cut off. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the driver's door opened, and a man stepped out into the fog.
Not Garrett. Not Levi or Oliver either. This was someone new—lean and tall, moving with a runner's grace that suggested coiled energy barely contained. Even through the fog, I couldmake out the sharp lines of his face, the geometric precision of his haircut—longer on top, shaved sides with some kind of design cut into them. He wore dark jeans and a fitted black shirt that emphasized his athletic build, and he carried something wrapped in cloth.
The fourth Alpha. This had to be Micah.
He stopped at the base of my porch steps, looking up at me with sharp assessing eyes, even in the diffused morning light. Green, I realized. Bright green that seemed to cut through me like a blade.
"Morning," he said, his voice carrying an edge of something I couldn't quite identify. Not hostility, but not warmth either. Something analytical, measuring. "You're Daphne."
It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyway, my hands tightening around my coffee mug. "And you're Micah."
