Page 95 of Wisteria and Cloves
"That's what concerns me," Julian said, stopping his pacing to look at each of us. "She's discovering her own power, but she has no experience wielding it. No understanding of what she's asking for when she says she doesn't want us to hold back."
Miles's expression darkened. "She knows exactly what she's asking for. She kissed both you and me with perfectawareness of what she was doing. She's not naive, Julian—she's inexperienced. There's a difference."
I nodded, considering Miles's words carefully. "Her responses are entirely natural for an omega coming off long-term suppressants. The heightened sensitivity, the increased attraction to compatible alphas—it's textbook biochemistry. But that doesn't make her feelings less valid."
"The question is whether we can trust ourselves to respond appropriately," Christopher said, his usual lightness replaced by something more serious. "Because when she looks at me with those eyes and asks me not to hold back..." He ran a hand over his face. "My restraint isn't as solid as I thought it was."
Julian stopped pacing, his expression grim. "We can't afford to lose control. Not with her. She deserves better than our base instincts."
"But she also deserves to be treated like the grown woman she is," I countered, standing to refill my glass with water. "She's making a clear request - to be taken at her word without our constant second-guessing. That's reasonable."
Julian's jaw tightened as he watched me. "And if her word is that she wants more physical intimacy? More scent-marking? More than kisses?"
"Then we proceed with care," Miles said firmly. "Not with fear. There's a difference between caution and coddling."
Christopher ran a hand through his hair, leaning back in his chair. "I agree with Miles. We can't keep treating her like she's made of porcelain just because we're afraid of our own responses. She deserves better than that."
“No one is suggesting we abandon all restraint,” I clarified, my analytical mind working through the problem,the low edge in my voice surprising even myself. My fingers curled tightly around the rim of the water glass, the smooth surface warm fromthe heat of my hand. The stillness in the room thickened as I looked around at the other three Alphas.
“But if we keep second-guessing her every word, if we keep treating her like something delicate and breakable, we’re going tobreak herin a different way. One she might not come back from.” I set the glass down, carefully, deliberately. The clink against the countertop felt final. “She’s not asking for us to lose control. She’s asking us toseeher. To trust her.”
Julian stood stiffly near the fireplace, arms crossed tightly over his chest. The golden light flickered along his jaw, casting long shadows under his eyes. His expression was taut with something more than just control—it was the strain of leadership colliding with emotion. Of duty clashing with desire.
“She’s not fragile,” Miles said softly from the couch, but there was steel under his voice. “And we’re treating her like she is. Like one wrong touch, one wrong glance, will undo her. But that’s not the girl who looked us in the eye today and told us not to hold back.”
Julian didn’t respond. His body was rigid, like it took everything in him just to stay still. Every instinct he had was warring with the image of the Omega who had smiled at him with boldness in her eyes and a tremor of heat in her scent. An Omega who had leaned into him,kissedhim,trustedhim.
That broke something loose in me.
“She’s growing,” I said, stepping away from the kitchen island. My voice lowered with the weight of it. “She’s stepping into herself faster than any of us expected. Every day, her scent matures. Her presence sharpens. She’s not the quiet, trembling thing that walked into this house. She’s blooming. And you know what happens when something blooms, Julian?”
He didn’t look at me, but his posture wavered.
“You either nurture it and let it thrive,” I continued, “or you smother it. And if we smother her—if we keep responding toher with hesitation and fear—we’ll teach her that her instincts can’t be trusted. That her desires are dangerous. Thatsheis dangerous.”
That finally made him move. Julian turned his head toward me, his jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle ticking beneath his skin.
“She’stoopowerful,” he said, voice rough. “Do you understand that? The way she looks at me—like she sees right through me. Like she already knows what I’d give to her if she asked. I’m the one who’s supposed to protect her from harm, from predators, fromus. But when she looks at me like that, I—” He broke off, his mouth pressing into a tight line. “I almost kissed her again tonight,” he admitted after a long moment, his voice lower now. “Hard.Toohard. I wanted to tilt her head back and scent-mark her in front of everyone, drag her close and let every bastard in that café know she was ours.” His voice dipped darker. “Mine.”
The room went quiet.
Christopher, leaning against the fridge, let out a slow exhale and muttered, “Join the club.”
Julian ran a hand down his face, frustrated and tired. “It’s not just the heat, not just her scent. It’sher. The way she speaks now. The way she leans into us. It’s like she’s daring us to claim her. And she has noideawhat she’s inviting.”
“Shedoes,” Miles said, firm and calm. “She might not know all the details—she’s inexperienced, not oblivious. But she knows enough. And she’s making a choice. That has to mean something.”
I nodded, stepping closer to the others. “She said it herself: she doesn’t want to be treated like property. But we’re doing just that—making decisions for her, policing her words, managing her reactions instead of listening. That isn’t care, Julian. That’s control.”
“You think Iwantto control her?” Julian snapped, turning on me, eyes flashing with frustration.
“No,” I answered evenly. “I think you’re afraid. That the moment we stop controlling ourselves, we’ll hurt her. And Irespectthat fear, but we’re going to have to stop letting it rule us.”
Julian looked at me, his shoulders finally beginning to drop. “She’s still sonewto all this,” he murmured. “The world she came from, the way she was raised… it trained her to suppress every instinct that makes her Omega. That’s not something you just shrug off.”
“No,” I agreed. “But you can’t untrain someone from shame by feeding them more of it.”
Miles leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “She’s not asking for everything. She’s asking forsomething.For a little more honesty. A little more touch. A little more truth. That’s not unreasonable.”
