Noah throws a piece of crust at my head. “We’ll talk logistics later.”
“Or now,” I offer, sliding my hand higher beneath the table. Her legs part just slightly, instinctively.
“You’re terrible,” she says softly.
“And you love it.”
Her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t pull away. Noah’s watching with that hungry, low burn he never hides anymore. Julian’s teeth graze his lip.
“Maybe we do it tonight,” she says quietly. “If we’re doing this—let’s do it.”
I stand, hold out a hand. “Then let’s go home.”
We don’t saymuch on the way up the stairs.
Cora walks ahead, her steps slow but certain. There’s something in the air between us that’s heavier than lust, thicker than tension.
She knows what this is. What it means. So do we. The claiming was instinct. Desire pushed to the edge until it spilled over. This is something older. Deeper. A pact etched in blood and flesh and heat.
In the room, she turns to face us, her back against the edge of the bed. Her shirt’s soft cotton, pale and worn, tugging slightly as she lifts her arms and peels it over her head. No teasing. No waiting. Just a quiet kind of strength in the way she bares herself to us, chest rising, eyes locked on mine.
I step forward first.
She meets me halfway, my hands sliding along her waist, over ribs, fingers tracing the curve of her spine. Her skin is warm, silk beneath my callused palms. I press my forehead to hers.
“I might have lost everything,” I say, voice rougher than I expect. “But you’re still here. And that means I didn’t lose the only thing that matters.”
She nods, mouth brushing mine. “You didn’t.”
“I love you.”
It breaks out of me before I can stop it. Three words I’ve never said to anyone who mattered. Three words that dig their hooks in and hold fast. Her hands tighten against my chest. She exhales through parted lips like I just unlocked something buried.
“I love you too, Elias.”
Behind us, Noah exhales, then comes up on her other side. His fingers sweep the hair from her face, lips grazing her temple. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”
She turns to him, wraps her arm around his neck. He pulls her in, not gentle but not rough, either. Like he needs her closer or he’ll lose his mind.
Julian closes the space last, palms cradling her hips. He presses his mouth to her shoulder, then lingers there.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he says quietly. “I wasn’t supposed to let you in.”
She tilts her head. He kisses her throat, slow, reverent.
“But you did,” she whispers.
He nods once.
“I love you,” he says into her skin. “Even when it terrifies me.”
Her whole body arches toward us. Like the words were a key in a lock. My hands slide down, cupping the backs of her thighs, lifting her. She wraps around me easily, her breath caught in my neck as I carry her to the bed.
The others follow, silent but charged. She sinks into the mattress, hair fanned out across the pillows. My mouth is on hers before I even think.
She kisses like she needs air. Like she’s been holding it in for too long.
Noah pulls his shirt off. Julian is already unbuckling his jeans. There’s nothing rushed about it, just the kind of need that’s been burning since the first night we all touched her.
