I shook my head. "My mother said it wasn't suitable. That violinists develop unsightly neck marks and callused fingers." My hands unconsciously smoothed over my unmarked palms. "She said no Alpha wants an Omega with musician's hands."
Something flashed in Julian's eyes—a brief, controlled flare of anger that vanished as quickly as it appeared. "What a remarkably narrow perspective," he said, his voice even but carrying an undercurrent of steel.
"I think musician's hands are beautiful," Miles offered, leaning forward with unexpected earnestness. "They show dedication. Passion."
Christopher nodded in agreement. "My sister plays cello. Her calluses are badges of honor."
I stared at them, trying to reconcile their reactions with everything I'd been taught. The idea that my physical imperfections might be valued rather than hidden was entirely foreign.
"Would you still want to learn?" Julian asked quietly. "If it were an option?"
The question felt dangerous, like a trap that might snap shut at any moment. But something in his steady gaze made me brave enough to answer honestly.
"Yes," I whispered.
"That's good to know," Julian said, his voice warm with something I couldn't quite identify. Not approval exactly, but... acknowledgment. As if my small admission had value.
Nicolaus leaned back in his chair, studying me with renewed interest. "What else?"
"Pardon?" I asked, uncertain what he meant.
"What else would you want to do, if you could choose?" His blue eyes remained fixed on mine, clinical but not cold. "Besides the violin."
The question made my mind go blank. One forbidden desire had been hard enough to voice—now they wanted more? I searched for something safe to say, something that wouldn't reveal too much.
"I'd like to read whatever I wanted," I finally admitted. "Without supervision."
Christopher's eyebrows shot up. "Your reading is supervised?"
Heat crept into my cheeks. "My mother selects appropriate materials. Books that reinforce proper Omega values. Nothing that might give me... ideas."
"Ideas," Miles repeated, his voice flat with disbelief. "Heaven forbid."
Julian watched me with that same steady gaze, something unreadable moving behind his eyes. "What would you read, if you could choose?"
I hesitated, searching for the right answer—the safe answer—before remembering that was exactly what they didn't want. "History," I admitted. "Philosophy. Science. Not just etiquette guides and romance novels with compliant Omega heroines."
A small smile tugged at Julian's lips—the first genuine one I'd seen from him. It transformed his face, softening the hard angles into something almost boyish. "What was the last book you snuck past your mother's supervision?"
The question startled a laugh from me—small and rusty from disuse, but real. "How did you know?" I asked, my laugh fading, but a smile lingered at the corners of my mouth.
"You seem resourceful," Julian replied, his eyes crinkling slightly. "I doubt you've accepted every restriction without finding some way around it."
I hesitated, glancing between the four men, searching for any sign that this was some kind of test. Finding none, I confessed, "A physics textbook. I borrowed it from our groundskeeper's son. He's studying at university."
"Physics?" Nicolaus raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "That's quite specific."
"I like understanding how things work," I admitted, my voice growing stronger with each word. "The rules that govern everything—when they can bend and when they break."
Something shifted in Julian's expression—a flash of recognition, perhaps even admiration. "Rules are important to understand," he agreed, his voice carrying a new warmth. "Especially when you're deciding which ones deserve to be followed."
The conversation paused as one of the hotel staff entered with a cart bearing covered dishes. The scent of freshly prepared food wafted through the room—rich, savory aromas that made my stomach clench with hunger I hadn't fully acknowledged.
Julian thanked the server, who disappeared as quietly as he'd arrived. "I thought we might need something more substantial than appetizers," he explained, removing the silver covers to reveal beautifully plated meals. "Please, help yourself."
I hesitated before taking whatever was closest to me, not understanding these four Alphas in front of me…not one bit.
Chapter Four
