Isla’s POV~
The burger was halfway to my mouth when the air in the diner changed.
I froze.
Two shadows fell over the table.
I didn’t need to look up to know who they were.
I could smell them.
Brock and Maddox.
They slid into the booth opposite us.
Brock sat next to Slade, Maddox next to Colt.
The booth was full now.
Five people in a space meant for four.
“We are all going back to school tomorrow,” Brock announced.
The burger felt like lead in my hand.
I lowered it slowly to the plate.
The appetizer I’d had five minutes ago was gone, replaced by a cold knot of dread in my stomach.
Tomorrow.
School.
That place.
The cafeteria where Bella and her pack of harpies sat at the center table, picking apart anyone who wasn’t them.
The whispers.
The tripping in the corridors.
The way they’d spit on my locker.
“I can’t,” I whispered.
The words were barely audible.
I shook my head, staring at the melted cheese on my plate.
“I can’t go back there.”
“You can,” Maddox interrupted.
His voice was gentle, “And you will.”
“Everyone will know—” I started, panic rising in my throat.
“That you’re our mate?” Colt finished for me.
He leaned back, draping his arm over the back of the booth, his fingers brushing my shoulder.
He grinned.
“Good.”
I stared at him.
“Good?”
“We’ll be with you,” Brock said.
He looked at me, his eyes were cold and serious.
“All four of us.
Walking you to class.
Sitting with you at lunch.”
“Escorting you everywhere,” Slade added.
He was staring at his steak knife, turning it over and over.
My jaw almost hit the table.
I looked from one to the other.
They weren’t joking.
Their faces were set.
Four Alphas.
The most powerful wolves in the territory.
Walking me through the halls of a high school like I was a visiting dignitary.
Oh goddess.
I could almost see the stares.
Bella’s face when I walked in with Slade on one side and Brock on the other.
I was going to lose my mind.
I looked at Maddox.
He was watching me.
His eyes were that soft, the ones that used to make my knees weak when I was a stupid, hopeful freshman.
They still had that effect, damn it.
He looked concerned.
“We won’t let anyone hurt you,” Maddox said quietly.
“Not anymore.”
I swallowed hard.
Was this real?
Or was it just another lie?
“What if…” My voice cracked.
I cleared it.
“What if it’s too much?”
Slade’s hand moved under the table.
I felt his rough, calloused fingers wrap around mine.
He squeezed gently.
“Then we leave,” Slade said.
“You say the word and we are gone.”
My heart hammered against my ribs.
Why did that make my chest feel tight?
I looked up.
All four of them were staring at me.
Waiting.
It was terrifying.
It was overwhelming.
They were giving me a choice, but we all knew the reality.
I was bound to them.
I looked down at my half-eaten burger.
“Okay,” I whispered.
“Okay…
I’ll go.”
“Yes!” Colt shouted.
He actually fist-pumped the air.
Like he’d just scored the winning goal in a soccer match.
The tension in the booth broke instantly.
Slade rolled his eyes, but I saw the corner of his mouth twitch.
Brock sighed, like he was dealing with a toddler.
Maddox just smiled, a small, genuine smile that reached his eyes.
I fought hard not to burst into laughter at his silliness.
But under the table, Slade didn’t let go of my hand.
The next morning, the silence was the first thing that I noticed.
I woke up slowly.
That was the first thing.
Usually, I woke up gasping, my heart hammering against my ribs or a scream tearing out of my throat.
Today, I just… woke up.
The room was bright.
Sunlight was streaming through the curtains, hitting the dust motes dancing in the air.
The sheets beneath me were so soft.
I lay there for a full minute, waiting for the panic to hit again.
Waiting for the memory of my father’s belt to crash down on me.
But… It didn’t come.
The mate bond seemed to be muffling the noise of the world.
I felt safe.
God, that was terrifying.
I sat up, my muscles ached in a good way.
I showered, letting the hot water beat down on my back.
When I stepped out, new clothes were hanging on the door.
Jeans that fit.
A sweater that wasn’t mine.
I braided my hair, my fingers moving on autopilot.
I looked in the mirror.
The bruises on my neck were fading.
My face looked fuller.
My eyes… they looked brighter.
The dull, dead look I’d had for three years was gone.
I looked like a girl again.
It made me want to cry.
I turned away before I could do that.
I followed the smell downstairs.
It smelled like coffee.
Bacon.
Something sweet, like pancakes or waffles.
My stomach growled.
I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I smelled the food.
I rounded the corner into the dining room and stopped dead.
They were all there.
The table was huge.
Brock sat at the head, tapping away on a tablet.
Maddox was to his right, holding a mug of coffee, looking annoyingly perfect with his messy hair and soft eyes.
Colt was sprawled in a chair, his legs stretched out, as he grinned.
And Slade.
Slade was leaning back against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.
He wasn’t looking at his phone.
He wasn’t looking at the food.
He was looking at me.
They all stopped talking the second I walked in.
They were waiting for me.
This… this was what a family looked like.
This was what it felt like to have people wait for you.
To have a place at a table.
I stood there, clutching the doorframe, feeling tears prick my eyes.
I hated that all my life I’ve always wanted to be loved.
To belong in a family.
“Morning, beautiful,” Colt said.
His voice was bright, breaking the tension.
He patted the empty seat next to him.
I walked over on autopilot.
My legs felt heavy.
I sat down.
Slade.
He’d moved silently.
He placed a heap of scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, buttered toast, and sliced fruit in front of me.
“Eat,” he said.
My heart warmed.
I reached for the glass of orange juice in the center of the table.
My hand was shaking a little.
Before my fingers could touch the glass, another hand slid in.
Brock.
He slid a glass of cold milk in front of me, replacing the juice.
“You need calcium,” Brock said, not looking up from his tablet.
“For the healing.
Your bones are still knitting.”
I sighed.
I let go of the juice and picked up the milk.
It was cold against my palm.
I took a sip.
It was rich and sweet.
Colt started saying something ridiculous about how Maddox had burned the pancakes, and I opened my mouth to laugh, when the milk hit my tongue, and I choked.
Just a little.
A white droplet escaped the corner of my mouth and rolled down my chin.
I reached for a napkin, but I froze.
The table had gone silent again.
I looked up.
All four of them were staring at me.
Not looking.
Staring.
Their eyes were dark.
Dilatated.
It wasn’t just hunger for food.
It was hunger for me.
They were looking at my mouth.
At the drop of milk.
At the pulse fluttering in my throat.
My nipples peaked immediately.
My wolf purred.
She liked the attention.
She liked being the center of their universe.
She whined, pressing against my ribs, begging for them to come closer.
But my body wasn’t listening.
Heat rushed to my face, to my chest, to between my legs.
It was humiliating.
It was just milk.
It was just a drop of liquid.
But the way they looked at me… it felt like they were starving, and I was the only thing on the menu.
“I…” I started, my voice trembling.
“I’ll just…”
I reached for the napkin again.
Slade moved.
One second he was sitting two chairs away, the next he was leaning over the table, invading my personal space.
His rough hands came up, and gripped my chin.
He tilted my head back.
Not roughly, but with absolute possession.
My breath hitched.
I couldn’t move.
I was paralyzed by the intensity in his eyes.
“You missed a spot,” he murmured.
Before my brain could catch up, before I could pull away, Slade lowered his head.
His tongue darted out.
He licked the milk from the corner of my mouth.
It was a slow, wet stroke.
And it was hot.
He didn’t pull back immediately.
He lingered there, his nose brushing my cheek, his breath hot against my skin.
He inhaled me.
The table went silent.
I could hear the blood rushing in my ears.
I sat there, frozen, with his tongue on my face, while his brothers watched.
And the worst part?
The part that made me want to die of shame?
I didn’t pull away.
I leaned in.
Just a fraction.