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"I will. I'll call the second I find anything new."

The line goes dead.

Shayna Cummins can run all she wants. She won't stay hidden forever. And when I find her, she's going to regret ever laying a hand on Cammie.

I let my mind move to the other thing I've been sitting with. The flowers.

I pulled the gate footage myself the night they arrived. The delivery driver pulled up to the guard shack, handed off the bouquet, and left. Clean and professional. She paid in cash, so there’s no traceable account behind it. My guard logged the delivery the way he's supposed to, checked for obvious hazards, and sent it up to the house because it looked like flowers for a sick person. Because it was flowers for a sick person. He did everything right and I'm still furious about it. The gate is a controlled point of access. It's supposed to mean something. She found a way to use it against us anyway. Didn't try to get in. Just wanted us to know she knows where Cammie is.

That's the part that hasn't left me.

I flex my hands again and let my mind shift to the other thing I've been carrying. Lucy. My cousin's been dodging her family since they tried to pull her out of the building after Cammie's attack. She told them she was staying with a friend. Turns out that friend is a pack. I made sure she's safe, made sure the pack isn't taking advantage. She's got something to figure out and that's nobody's business but her own. I haven't decided yet whether to tell her father, who is also my uncle and the majority owner of my company. For now I'm keeping it to myself. Cammie doesn't need anything else on her plate. And Lucy deserves her privacy. For the moment.

It's late. Time to go home.

The house is mostly dark when I pull up. Only a few lights on. Beck's on call tonight, so he's gone. Piers is probably still in his office. But Finn and Cammie are here. I can smell them the second I step inside, their scents tangled together in the hallway, wound so tight that I can’t tell where his ends and hers begin.

My feet carry me toward her room before I can stop them. Fucking gravity.

I stop short when I see Finn quietly slipping out of her door, pulling it almost closed behind him. He looks relaxed, content in a way I haven't seen in weeks. His eyes meet mine and his face goes soft.

Without a word, he steps forward and pulls me in for a kiss. Slow. Gentle. I can taste her on him, vanilla and lavender wrapped around his rain and grass scent. It smells right. So fucking right.

Finn pulls back enough to rest his forehead against mine. "Go in," he murmurs. "Talk to her."

He kisses me one more time, then walks down the hall without looking back, leaving me standing in front of Cammie's slightly open door.

I stare at the narrow slice of light coming from inside. My hands flex at my sides. I should walk away. Give her space. Let her rest.

But I don't. I push the door open and step inside.

Cammie is lying on her side in the middle of the bed, reading on her phone. The soft glow of the screen lights up her face. When I enter she looks up but doesn't say a word.

I stand there for a long moment, taking in the bed.

It's not a guest bed anymore. It's a nest. Pillows piled high in every direction, blankets twisted and folded just right. My black hoodie is tucked into one corner. One of Finn's gray t-shirts is balled up near her hip. Evidence of more clothes tucked here and there.

My eyes dip back to my hoodie before I finally drag them back to hers. We stare at each other. No words. Just that heavy, crackling silence between us. Then she reaches out and pats the mattress beside her.

I kick off my shoes without thinking. The movement feels inevitable. Fucking gravity.

I climb onto the bed, careful not to jostle her, and settle on my back next to her. She shifts closer. A few seconds later, her head tips onto my shoulder. Every muscle locks up. My heart pounds so hard I'm sure she can feel it. I don't pull away, though. I don't move closer, either. I just exist right here. With her weight warm against my side and her scent slowly sinking into my skin.

Gravity.

thirty-one

Piers

Iloosen my tie as I walk down the hall, following the pull of Cammie’s and Finn’s mingled scents. The door to the guest suite is cracked open. I stop outside, looking in.

Cammie is awake, tucked against Finn’s chest on the bed. His arm is wrapped around her, fingers lazily stroking her back while she laughs softly at something he’s murmuring. She looks relaxed and happy, tucked against him like she belongs there. Like she’s exactly what this pack needs.

But my alpha doesn’t give a fuck about what the pack needs right now. He wants her too. I want her in my lap, soft and warm and trusting. I want her draped across me, laughing up at me with that wicked little smile. I want her between Finn and me, caught in the middle while we both hold her close.

I’m not selfish. I’ll share her gladly with every one of them if that’s what she needs. But that doesn’t stop the low, possessive growl that builds in my chest at the sight of her so comfortable in someone else’s arms.

I lean against the doorframe, watching them for a long moment. Soon, I tell the restless alpha pacing under my skin.