I lean in. It’s an impulse, a breach of my usually rigid control, but I can’t help myself. I press my lips to her cheek.
Her skin is impossibly soft. She smells divine. For a second, I just breathe her in, feeling her freeze slightly against me before she relaxes.
I pull back. “Please. Sit.”
She sinks onto the sofa, tucking her legs under her. Eli sits next to her, leaving a respectful foot of space. Fallon takes the armchair, sprawling out with his usual lazy grace.
I sit on the other end of the sofa, turning slightly so I can see her face.
The music plays. The snow falls silently outside the high windows. The static in my head quiets.
This is really happening.
“I’ll play something,” Eli says.
“And I’ll get more wine,” Fallon offers.
Five minutes later, Amber sits on the edge of my sofa, her posture rigid. She holds her wine glass in both hands, knuckles white, staring into the liquid like it holds the answers to the universe, but it does little to mask her anxiety.
“You look like you’re awaiting execution,” Fallon observes. He has his boots up on the coffee table, an arm thrown over the back of the chair.
She jumps slightly. “I’m just... not used to this. Huge dinners. With guys who aren’t my brother.”
She takes a long drink of wine. “I know Alphas share Omegas. Obviously. Jude, Ryker, Dorian... I’ve seen it. But how does this work? With you three and me? Do I... date all of you? Or is it a group thing?”
“We date you,” Eli says immediately. He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “We take you out. We spend time with you individually. We want to know you, Amber. Not just as a pack, but as people.”
“And,” Fallon adds, “we claim you. Eventually. If it gets that far. That scent marker on your neck? That’s just the start. We’d want you wearing our bite, our scent. Claimed.”
“That sounds... possessive,” she murmurs.
“It’s protective,” I correct. “And it’s not without your consent. Every step of this, Amber, requires your say. If you want just one of us, we accept that. If you want none, we step back. We don’t force this.”
She nods, digesting this. “And the... the physical part?”
“We share,” Fallon says simply. “If you’re open to it.”
She hesitates, glancing between us. “What about you guys? I mean, have you ever... tried anything with each other?”
“Absolutely not,” Eli says, his tone firm.
“Ever,” Fallon adds.
“Except that one time,” I say, mostly to see Fallon squirm.
He glares at me. “That does not count.”
Amber leans forward, interest piqued. “What one time?”
Fallon sighs, dropping his head back against the chair. “High school. Tenth grade. Seven minutes in heaven. I was in a closet with Tyler Henderson. He had very nice lips. I thought, maybe I’m flexible. We kissed for about thirty seconds.”
“And?” Amber prompts.
“And I realized I was incredibly straight,” Fallon finishes. “I spent the rest of the party avoiding him because I felt bad about the boner I gave him that I couldn’t do anything with.”
Amber laughs. It’s a bright, genuine sound that breaks some of the tension in the room. The corners of my eyes crinkle in response.
“Tragic,” I murmur.
