Ryker comes to stand beside me. He holds out a key and a folded paper.
“Your house,” he says. “The deed’s in your name.”
I look at the paper. Then at him. “Ryker, I already live with you…”
“I know.” His voice is steady, but careful in the way it gets when something matters. “You came to this island with one bag and no backup plan. You spent years sleeping on couches and hoping people would keep you around. I want you to have something that’s yours. Not ours. Yours. You can do anything you want with it. You can rent it out, burn it, or let it sit empty. But I want you to always know it’s there. That you have something that belongs to you and no one can take it.”
I stare at him.
The tears come before I can stop them.
“Ryker,” I whisper, my voice breaking from this gesture of his.
He pulls me against his chest without a word, one arm wrapping tight around my shoulders, his hand pressing to the back of my head. I cry into his shirt while he holds me. His heartbeat is steady against my cheek, his grip unwavering.
“Don’t cry, my sweet.”
“Thank you,” I manage eventually. “I know that doesn’t cover it.”
“It covers it,” he says against my hair.
I pull back, take a breath, and put the key in the lock. The door swings open onto a sitting room with built-in shelves and a window seat and a little kitchen through an archway, everything tucked and perfect and exactly the kind of quiet beauty that makes a person feel held.
Marcus closes the door behind us.
The sound of it is quiet and very deliberate.
I turn fully and find all five of my alphas filling the small space of the hallway, the warm lamplight catching the clean lines of their faces. The air in the room changes.
Ryker’s eyes are dark. Lorenzo’s mouth curves slowly. Rex is watching me intensely, while Marcus tilts his head, watching me. It’s been a long time since we’ve all been together. Alone.
I bite my lip.
Their hands are at their sides, perfectly still, but I can see their erections straining against their pants. All of them are already hard.
Their eyes are dark, hungry. I’m their omega. They’re mine.
And tonight I’ll give them a show. Right there in the living room, I peel my shirt up and over my head, letting it drop. Cool air kisses my skin. Next comes the skirt, sliding down my thick thighs until I step out of it.
Their gazes follow every movement.
I reach behind me, unhook my bra, and let the straps fall from my shoulders. My breasts spill free, nipples already tight. Ryker’s breath hitches sharply, chest rising and falling like he’s fighting not to lunge.
I hook my thumbs in my panties and drag them down, bending at the waist so they get a full view of my ass and the wet shine between my legs. When I straighten, I’m naked except for the jewelry Alaric gave me. The jewelry glints against my skin as I turn, plant my feet, and shake my ass—slow, deliberate rolls that make the soft flesh jiggle.
A sharp, collective intake of breath cuts through the room.
I glance over my shoulder, voice low and teasing. “Do any of you like my fat ass and thick thighs?”
Marcus rips his shirt open, buttons scattering across the floor. His voice is a rough growl. “I need a piece of that fat ass. Right fucking now.”
I giggle, cheeks heating even as fresh slick squelches down my inner thigh. The sound of it makes all of them groan. I turn and walk toward the bedroom without another word.
Behind me, five heavy sets of footsteps follow—boots and bare feet on hardwood, breathing ragged, the low rumble of alpha growls. They trail after me like men bewitched, and the knowledge sends a fierce, possessive thrill straight to my core.
I feel powerful. So fucking powerful.
These strong, dangerous alphas follow me because they can’t help themselves. My scent, my body, my slick… they own them. And I love it. I love the way their eyes stay glued to the sway of my hips, the way their cocks are already straining against their pants. I revel in it.
