TWENTY-FIVE
TRINITY
I stretchout on a lounge chair at the family pool, far from the main resort where most of the wedding guests are gathered. The laughter of children splashing in the shallow end provides a soothing backdrop as I stare at the crystal-clear water, my mind racing despite my attempts to relax.
Lucas’s suggestion to stop taking suppressants keeps circling in my thoughts. The idea is both tempting and terrifying. Without them, I might actually identify my scent matches—assuming any even exist. But going into heat during my sister’s wedding week? The timing couldn’t be worse.
A little girl with pigtails runs past, giggling as her brother chases her with water wings. Their mother calls out warnings not to run, her voice gentle but firm. I watch them, something unfamiliar tugging at my heart.
Could I be a mother someday? The question has always lingered at the edge of my consciousness, never fully examined. I’ve always focused on my career, my independence, my need to prove myself. Children were a distantmaybethat never seemed to get any closer.
My mother slipped into motherhood effortlessly, taking to it like breathing. Four children later, and she still glows when she talks about those early days, even the difficult ones after my father died. For Josie, settling down seems like the natural next step, something she’s always expected and wanted.
But for me? The prospect is terrifying. Not the children themselves - I love my little brothers, and I’ve always been good with my clients’ kids at events. It’s what comes with them — the expectations, the sacrifices, the potential to lose myself in the role of mother and omega until nothing else remains.
I imagine a little girl with Matheo’s serious eyes, or a boy with Lucas’s carefree laugh. The images come easier than expected, settling into my mind like they’ve been waiting for permission to appear.
But then reality crashes back. These men aren’t mine. This arrangement isn’t real. They want to fuck me, obviously. And I plan to take full advantage of that for the rest of the week, but that doesn’t mean they want to spend the rest of their lives playing house with me.
And even if they did somehow miraculously want that, I’ve spent years building my business, establishing myself in an alpha-dominated industry. Could I really balance motherhood with the career I’ve fought so hard for?
I think of my jam-packed schedule, the late nights and early mornings, the weekends spent finalizing details for events. Where would a child fit into that life? Where would a pack of alphas fit?
The answer is simple: they wouldn’t. Not without massive changes. Not without compromises I’ve always sworn I’d never make.
A splash of water hits my legs as a group of children race by. Their joy is infectious, their freedom complete. I watch them with a mixture of longing and uncertainty. This isn’t a decision to make impulsively, especially not when my hormones are being manipulated by four very attractive men who are only here because I’m paying them.
I sit up and check my watch. The afternoon is slipping away, and I should head back soon to prepare for tonight. Whatever happens between Lucas and me later, whatever this week brings with all four of them, I need to remember that it’s temporary. A fantasy with an expiration date.
And suppressants or not, that reality isn’t going to change.
By the time I reach our villa after dinner, it’s dark enough that I need the string lights hung along the trees to navigate the path. I swipe my keycard, stepping into the dim living room. The space is quiet, almost too still, and the lanai door stands open, letting a cool breeze ripple through. It dances over my skin, raising goosebumps on my arms. I curse under my breath, wishing for once that my heat suppressants didn’t dull my senses so much. I can’t even catch a whiff to know if the guys are nearby, lurking in some corner of this sprawling villa. The thought unnerves me—how vulnerable it makes me, how an alpha could slip up behind me without warning.
Before I can flick on a light, warm hands cover my eyes, blocking out the faint glow from the hallway. My body tenses, a gasp catching in my throat, but then a familiar voice murmurs close to my ear, low and playful.
“Do you wanna play a game, kitten?”
Lucas. His breath tickles the sensitive spot just below my earlobe, sending a shiver down my spine. I feel the hard plane of his chest against my back, the heat of him seeping through my thin sundress. My heart kicks into a faster rhythm, but I don’t pull away.
“What kind of game?” My voice comes out steadier than I feel, though I’m hyper-aware of his hands still over my eyes, the darkness sharpening every other sense.
He chuckles, the sound vibrating through me. “The kind where you don’t have to think. The kind where we take care of everything, and all you’ve gotta do is let go.”
I swallow, the weight of his words sinking in. My shoulders are still tight from the day, my mind buzzing with wedding details and lingering doubts. But his tone, warm and reassuring, chips away at that tension.
“We’re here for you, Trin,” he continues, lips brushing the shell of my ear now. “We just wanna see you feel good. Let that big brain take a break. Enjoy this.”
His hands slide away from my eyes, but before I can turn, he grips my shoulders gently, steering me forward a step. The darkness of the room wraps around us, punctuated only by the faint shimmer of moonlight spilling through the open lanai. I hear the soft pad of footsteps—more than just Lucas’s—and my pulse leaps. They’re all here, somewhere in the shadows of this suite, waiting.
“Trust us,” Lucas whispers, his hands gliding down my arms now, leaving trails of warmth. “Just for tonight, let us make you feel everything.”
I take a shaky breath, the idea of surrendering control both thrilling and terrifying. But the exhaustion of carrying everything—Josie’s wedding, the pretense, my own tangledemotions—presses down hard. Maybe, just for a bit, I can let them take the reins.
“Okay,” I murmur, barely above a whisper, but it’s enough. Lucas’s grip tightens briefly in acknowledgment, a silent promise that he has me.
I stand in the dim light of the suite, Lucas’s presence a comforting warmth at my back. My agreement to his game hangs in the air, a fragile thread of trust I’m ready to grasp. The moonlight filtering through the lanai casts slivers of silver across the floor, and the quiet rustle of fabric tells me Cash and Matheo are close, their movements deliberate in the shadowed room.
I don’t see Kyren and I have no reason to think he stuck around for this.
