Page 84 of The Florist and Her Alphas

“That smell,” I whisper, voice thin. “That’s them. That’s my old pack’s scent. That’s what filled the house upstate every single day for three years. Silus. Magnus. That’s what they smelled like.”

Cole nods. He doesn’t ask me anything else.

He gets an arm under mine and helps me up off the floor, walks me the two steps to the stool behind the counter, and sits me down like I’m made of glass.

Then he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a pair of nitrile gloves. Of course he has gloves in his jacket pocket.

He snaps them on, one hand at a time, and pulls a small clear evidence bag from the same pocket. He picks up the sprig carefully, by the ribbon only, and seals it inside without letting his skin touch the needles before carefully tucking the baggie into his pocket.

Then he turns back to me. He puts one hand on my knee, light, steady, grounding.

“This is a threat,” he says. “That’s all it is right now. He is not getting near you. Not while I’m breathing.” His eyes hold mine, flat and certain. “I promise you that.”

I want to believe him. My heart is still hammering too hard against my ribs, but I watch his eyes, and something in me settles half an inch.

The bell over the door rings again.

Julian comes through first, moving fast, and he’s across the shop in four strides before the door has even swung shut behind him. He wraps me in a tight one-armed hug from the side, his cheek pressed against my temple, and I feel him breathing hard, like he ran the whole way here instead of driving.

“Fuck, are you okay, Lia?” he asks frantically against my hair.

“Yes,” I whisper.

August comes in right behind him, pale, his glasses slightly crooked like he put them on in the elevator. He hugs me hard, both arms around my shoulders, and asks what happened in a voice gone thin with worry, and I manage a few broken words before Ezra walks through the door.

Ezra’s face is serious. Controlled. His pale gray eyes sweep over me once, assessing, and something in his jaw is tight in a way that makes my stomach drop.

He’s looking at me like I’m a total stranger who wants nothing to do with him anymore. I don’t like this feeling at all, like a knife stabbing through my heart.

“Are you okay?” he asks. Flat. Serious.

“I’m okay,” I say, meek, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s probably not a big deal.”

“It’s a big deal,” Cole says sharply, already moving toward the back door. “We need security to check the perimeter. Now.”

Ezra is looking at me like I’m a problem to be managed rather than the omega he was holding not too long ago. My eyes burn. I can’t stand it.

“I’m sorry I left like that,” I say quietly, as I look into Ezra’s eyes, trying to be strong. “I literally panicked about everything, and I had doubts that I probably only let you all knot me because I was desperately in heat. It was the most overwhelming thing that’s ever happened to my body, and I just needed to think, I needed…”

Ezra crosses to me before I can finish. His hand comes up, cupping my jaw, his thumb sweeping slowly along my cheekbone.

“You don’t owe us an apology,” he says, quiet, looking only at me. “You had every right to need air. But the only thing we’re asking now is to let us keep you safe.”

I nod.

My arms go around his waist, and I feel him exhale like he’s been holding that breath since yesterday. His arms come around me, solid, and his mouth presses to my forehead and stays there. Julian’s hand runs slowly up and down my back from my other side. August steps in front of me and picks up my hand, laces our fingers together without a word.

“I need to sit down,” I whisper, my heart feeling full and finally lighter.

Julian simply scoops me up and carries me back into the workshop, past the zinc worktable, to the two old leather chairs by the small window. He drops into the larger one and pulls me down onto his lap before I can protest, settling me sideways across his thighs, my head tucked against his shoulder, his hand stroking slowly through my hair.

“Relax now Lia. We got you,” Julian murmurs in my ear. Behind us, I can hear Cole and Ezra discussing cameras and other security measures. I close my eyes against Julian’s shoulder and let the shaking finally, slowly, begin to subside.

My body has gone loose and heavy against Julian’s chest, and for the first time since I opened that envelope, something in me starts to unclench.

That’s when the bell over the front door goes off like a gunshot. My heart stops when I look up.

I look up and see Mira shoving through like a furious storm. She must have seen Ezra and his pack walking into my shop and never leaving. Her jeans are covered in flour, and her apron is tied crookedly around her waist. She has a baseball bat gripped in one fist, held up and ready like she’s about to go to war with somebody.