I zoom in on the still he sent. The figure is half in shadow, one foot caught mid-step like it’s dragging. Same dark jacket. Same quality of stillness that doesn’t belong to someone just passing through. The angle of the hood hides most of the face, but there’s something about the way he holds himself that makes my gut tighten even though I can’t name why.
“I have no idea who that is,” I say, honestly. “Could be anyone. Could be the same guy from the alley. Could be a coincidence that doesn’t exist.”
Sloane makes a sound that might be amusement or might be him biting back whatever protective thing he wants to say about Kade. “Kade said the guy in the alley had a drag in his step. This one matches. I’m not telling you how to do your job, Detective. I’m just giving you the thing you asked for.”
“You’re protective of him,” I say before I can stop myself.
There’s a pause. Then, dry as ever: “He pays me to be competent. The protective part is free.” Another beat. “He’s been different since this started. Not worse. Just… present in a way he hasn’t been. Don’t fuck that up because you’re still trying to be the detective first.”
I don’t answer that. I log the still in the parallel file anyway, then do the inconvenient right thing and submit it into the real system with a note about possible connection to the West Talbot assault. The photo goes into evidence. Cedar is still on my skin from earlier, faint but there, and I ignore the way it makes the professional part of me feel like a liar. I’m still a detective. Even when I’m not.
The call ends with Sloane telling me to get some sleep and me not promising anything. I’m still staring at the grainy figure when my phone lights up with Kade’s name.
Emrys wants you here. Quit for the night.
I type three different replies and delete them all. The photo is still open on the second monitor. The evidence is logged. The system has it now. I could stay. I could chase the thread until my eyes cross and the station empties out around me like it always does.
My phone buzzes again. Kade’s voice is low when I answer. “You’re still at your desk.”
“I’m chewing on something.”
“Chew on it tomorrow.” A pause. “Emrys has been asking if you’re coming. He’s been pacing the kitchen for twenty minutes pretending he’s not worried about you.”
That gets me out of the chair as I start explaining about the photo and how it might hopefully pull this case to a close if someone recognizes him.
“Skylar, fuck. Breathe. We both want you here, away from the investigation for a minute, just you.”
My heart does a little flip, Kade’s desire for me strengthening my resolve to close everything down for a night. “Right, yeah. I’m on my way.” I hang up, make sure I submitted the photo to evidence and then jog out to my car.
It’s been a long damn time since people I cared about asked me when I was coming home. My cases always took me away from them. Never once did they or even myself try to bridge the widening gap. In only a week, Kade and Emrys ripped down those walls and gave me a reason to want more.
The apartment smells like them the second I walk in. Vanilla and warm bread and brown sugar, threaded through with cedar that’s settled into the walls like it lives there now. My own scent rises to meet it the moment I step through the door, and for once it doesn’t feel like three separate things fighting for space. It feels like one.
Emrys is on the couch in one of Kade’s hoodies again, legs tucked under him, a bowl of popcorn balanced on his knees. Kade is in the kitchen pouring something into mugs. The TV is paused on the opening credits of something I don’t recognize. It all feels so domestic, new enough that I keep waiting for it to feel wrong.
It doesn’t.
Emrys looks up when I come in and the smile that crosses his face is small and real. “You came.”
“Kade said you were asking.” I hang my coat on the back of a chair because it feels like the kind of thing you do when you’re staying. “Couldn’t exactly ignore that.”
Kade sets a mug on the coffee table in front of me without asking what I want. I sit on the other end of the couch from Emrys, close enough that our knees almost touch, far enough that I’m not assuming anything.
“So, we just… like this?”
Kade snorts. “Have you ever relaxed a day in your life, Skylar?”
I open my mouth to say something when Emrys crawls over my lap and pushes me toward Kade. Confused, I move over until I’m in the middle of an Alpha and an Omega on either side of me. I brace for it to feel weird or unnatural, Kade just laughing as he leans over to run his nose along my cheek. That calms me immediately, my shoulders sagging a little.
Emrys grabs the remote and tucks himself against my side. “I just wanted to do something that didn’t involve men in the dark and whatever other crime is going on. It’s like the only time wesee each other is because something is going kind of right with the case or horribly wrong. And I just… I need this.”
He presses play, some soft romantic scene lighting up the screen. I just grab my mug and take a sip, trying not to vibrate out of my skin as Emrys shifts closer. And then closer, just inch by inch until his shoulder is against mine and the vanilla is warm against my throat. Kade settles on the other side, one arm along the back of the couch, fingers brushing the back of my neck once before he lets them rest.
I keep waiting for the moment it tips into something else. It takes longer than I expect, Emrys turning his head during a quiet stretch of dialogue, eyes flicking to my mouth and then away. His hand comes up to rest on my chest, right over the place where my heart is doing something stupid, and he leans in slow enough that I have time to stop him.
I don’t, Emrys’ mouth warm and a little sweet from whatever he ate earlier, his body angled toward mine like he’s afraid of taking up too much space. I freeze for half a second, the part of me that still thinks I need to manage every variable before it can hurt me.
Kade’s voice cuts through it, from my other side. “I was wondering when you’d crack, Skylar.”
