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Piers makes a sound that’s half laugh, half growl. “I told you not to call me that.”

“Yes, boss,” Beck replies immediately, then whispers loud enough for the whole car to hear, “Piers pretends he doesn't like it, but having everyone answer to him is secretly his favorite thing in the world.”

I can’t help the conspiratorial smile that spreads across my face. I tilt my head toward the driver’s seat and say sweetly, “Boss, can you tell me about your car?” I pause, “Or do you prefer sir?”

The low, rumbling purr that rolls out of Piers hits me like a shot of whiskey. It’s deep, and velvety, and way too impactful for someone who recently had major abdominal surgery. It settles low in my belly and makes my breath catch. And then his scent spikes. Dark amber and sea salt, rolling back from the front seat and filling the car, taking up all the space and shorting out my brain cells. I press my lips together and stare very hard at the back of his headrest.

“Well, fuck. Guess we found his thing,” Beck says, breath hot against my ear.

I squeeze my thighs tight. We may have found one of my things, too. And it’s damned inconvenient.

Seriously, sir. This is not the time.

Through that devastating purr, Piers answers, calm and smooth, “It’s a Rolls-Royce Black Badge Cullinan. Custom spec.”

Beck jumps in helpfully, practically vibrating with glee. “The extra-mean version. Orange and black interior because ‘sir’,” his fingers make quote signs, “likes to pretend he’s got a personality while driving around in a half-million-dollar car.”

“I do have personality,” Piers grumbles, but there’s amusement there.

Finn twists in his seat, a relaxed grin on his face. “Piers is ridiculously rich. To him, this is practical transportation. Only the best for ‘sir.’”

I laugh at Finn’s use of air quotes. I’m learning quickly to expect anything from Beck, but it makes me happy to see how Finn’s teasing fits, too.

Piers reaches over and playfully shoves Finn’s shoulder. “Traitor.”

Finn laughs. A real, warm sound that lights up the whole car. Beck is cracking up next to me, Piers is still rumbling quietly in the front seat, and even I can’t stop smiling.

It feels… good. Really good.

For the first time since I’ve woken up in the hospital, they’re not freaking out about my injury or the stalker situation. Right now, they’re just three alphas cutting up and teasing each other like normal packmates. Piers trying, and failing, to look stern while secretly enjoying the Sir thing. Beck being an absolute menace. And Finn relaxed enough to throw jabs back. It shifts how I see this pack.

I glance out the back window at Leith’s car following close behind us. I wonder how he fits into moments like this. Does the quiet Viking ever let loose and join the banter? Or is he always ten steps ahead, playing logistics and security while the rest of them play?

I don’t know yet. But I want to. I want more moments like this. Loud, silly, warm, and easy moments. And I want Leith in them too.

Beck nudges my arm gently. “You zoning out again, sugar? Or are you still thinking about how sexy Sir looks gripping that steering wheel?”

I laugh, then immediately wince as pain flares in my side. “Both,” I admit. “Definitely both.”

Piers purrs again, louder this time, and Beck howls with laughter while Finn shakes his head, still smiling.

Yeah… I could get used to this.

We pull through the gate and start down the longest driveway I’ve ever seen in my life. It winds forever. We roll past a small pond glowing softly under the light of the setting sun, a cute caretaker’s cottage tucked off to the side, and a couple of gentle hills before the house finally appears.

Holy shit.

It’s a mansion. There’s no other word for it. Large, modern, and stunning in that expensive-but-restrained way. Dark trim mixed with natural stone, massive floor-to-ceiling windows that glow with warm interior light, and clean, sharp lines. It’s showy but not ostentatious. Old money meets modern architecture. After learning Piers’ car costs half a million dollars, I shouldn’t be surprised. But I still am.

As we get closer, I feel all eyes on me. Beck has twisted fully around in his seat, staring at me with zero shame, already certain he knows what I'm going to think. Finn has turned in the front passenger seat, watching me shyly but so intently it makes my chest feel tight. Even Piers keeps glancing at me in the rearview mirror while he drives, those dark eyes searching my face. They’re all holding their breath, waiting for my reaction.

I look back out at the house. Objectively, it’s stunning. Perfectly manicured lawn, elegant stone pathways, dramatic but tasteful lighting. But something feels missing.

There’s no color anywhere. No bright flowers in the beds, no cheerful pops of seasonal plants, no quirky little touches. Only flawless green grass, stone, and that sleek dark-and-light palette. Beautiful, but a little cold. Like a high-end architectural photo that no one actually lives in.

I realize they’re still staring at me, tense and waiting. I swallow and give them my best genuine smile. “It’s really beautiful.”

The relief in the car is instant and almost loud.