26. Elena

I don't knowwhat it was about going to my father's grave, but it was the clarity I needed. Plus, my steady stream of suppressants.

It's more so lunch time, instead of breakfast when everyone gathers in the dining room. Everyone stayed up a little too late, even after getting back home.

In fact, Lorcán is just now walking through the door, looking worse for wear. I know I likely don't have any right, but I scent him, and I'm instantly filled with the gratification that he only carries his own scent. Despite the fact I'm on the path of forgiveness, that is something I wouldn't tolerate.

His eyes meet mine, and there seems to be an apology in them. We can talk privately later, and I make that clear in the look I give him.

Maeve sets out sandwiches, fruit, and drinks on the table.

"Glad to see you at the table with your clothes on," she tells me, and I smile.

The old woman is endearing herself to me. Maybe it's because I don't have a mother of my own, or at least I haven't in a while. She might be direct and crass, but her blunt nature is comforting.

"I'm glad you"re clothed too, Maeve," I respond, which garners a smile from the old woman before she walks away.

"Lorcán, how nice of you to join us," Cillian states with an attitude.

I want to roll my eyes but keep my thoughts to myself. While I might be an addition to this pack, it's clear that they aren't much of a pack to begin with. There's so much history, hurt, and frustration with one another.

I'm not sure where I fall in all that, but I'm hoping that we can all help each other heal to some degree. I see us for what we are: five broken people looking for some salvation.

"I lost my phone," Lorcán grunts as he fills his plate and downs a glass of water.

"Oh, wonderful. So you don't know that Finn gave Elena the keys to his BMW and told her to leave, which she did. Or that we got a call from a police officer to pick her up late last night," Cillian explains, and this time, I do roll my eyes.

"That's an over-exaggeration," I mumble, and Cillian hits me with a stern look.

I should hate it, I should hate his controlling, bossy side. But the truth is that I missed it. I miss how we were at the club, and I recognize his frustration for what it is—he cares about me.

"Can I start my meeting?"

"Floor is yours," Cillian grumbles.

I decide to stand because I need to drive the point home. Also, everyone at this table is much bigger than me, and I feel like I have more authority while standing. All four of them have their eyes on me.

Finn's are worse for wear; his right eye bloodshot, and sporting a bruise. Lorcán's are heavy with lack of sleep.

I clear my throat and keep my back straight. I'm not hiding in a room anymore. If they want me here, then we're going to need to come to terms.

"I will not be treated as a possession."

Cillian's mouth starts to open, and I silence him with a swipe of my hand through the air.

"I'm not something that belongs to you. In fact, I'd appreciate it if that contract with my father is torn up or set on fire."

Cillian's brows turn in, and Lorcán's face is covered in confusion.

"I'm choosing to be here of my own free will, despite everything. I think everyone at this table knows that Cillian and Finn are my scent matches, and that's not something I can walk away from."

Lorcán's face falls, and I look at him.

"I won't lie and say I'm not still angry. I'm not sure when that feeling will go away. But I'm here. I'm willing to try and make this work because I want to. Lorcán, you've spent years taking care of me, and I trust you more than anyone at this table to continue to do so, as long as it's something you want."

He gives me a small smile, and I look at Declan.

"With the contract torn up, it's up to all of you. Do you still want me here? Forget obligations or what you agreed to, is this what you want?"

"Aye, blondie," Declan agrees.

The others nod, even Finn. Our truce from last night clearly made a difference. I let out a sigh of relief and take my seat.

"Okay, so we're going to start over. Well, the best that we can. So I guess we should start with the obvious," I say.

The guys look around at each other, clearly not getting what the ‘obvious' thing is. I sigh in exasperation and continue talking.

"My heat. It's coming sooner rather than later. The symptoms have eased with my suppressants, but it's inevitable. I need to know that I'll be taken care of and that no bonding will take place."

"Of course, princess," Lorcán says quickly.

"You have my word," Cillian replies.

"Can I bite?" Declan asks with a grin, and I smile back at him.

"I'll think about it."

"I don't think it's something I can do," Finn states, and I nod, even though the sting of my scent match rejecting me weighs heavily on my chest. I'll have a fit about it later but now is not the time.

"Thank you for being honest," I reply flatly.

God, look at me being magnanimous and gracious when all I want to do is shake him and beg him to find me attractive and appealing. It's official: I hate having scent matches.

"Then there is the issue of my brother," I move on, and they nod.

"Finn might look like dog shite, but it wasn't for nothing. We're now aligned with the Barbieri's and the Dezhurov's. Anthony is scrambling. It won't be long until most of his men leave him or the money runs dry," Declan points out.

I nod and take a drink of my juice before speaking again.

"I won't be trapped in this house. I understand there are rules and that I shouldn't be alone." Cillian gives me an arched brow, judging me for my stint last night. "But I don't want to be kept in an ivory tower. I like doing things, going out. It's important that you all understand that if this is going to work."

"Once everything with your brother is settled, things will change. We never intended to keep you locked up," Cillian admits, glancing at his brother.

"I can work with that. I should have a lot of things being delivered soon, but I'll need more," I warn them.

You can take the spoiled Omega out of the Italian mafia, but I can't change who I am. They knew what they were getting when they signed that contract.

"I can take you to LA for the weekend," Lorcán offers mid-meal.

His half-brothers glance over at him and back at me. Part of me is proud of him for sticking up for himself against them and making a declaration.

"I'll go too. We can charter a plane with Weston," Declan suggests.

Cillian looks like he wants to disagree but just nods his head. "You need to be back by Sunday night. Dá will be in town."

Lorcán tries to hide his feelings on the matter but just nods.

"Do you have enough things being delivered to get you through the weekend?" Cillian asks.

"Yes, thank you."

He looks at me suspiciously, like he doesn't know how to take my change in attitude.

That makes two of us.

Cillian leaves the room while Lorcán and Declan start organizing our little trip. Finn sits there, and it looks like he has more to say.

"Is there something else?" I ask him.

He shakes his head, and then some weird sort of growl rips through his throat.

"I… I don't know how to do this."

"Do what?"

He waves his hand between us. "This."

"Hmm. Well, I think you need to figure out what you want, Finn. We're scent matches there's only so much say we get in the matter. But I'm telling you now, if you want me, if you want to work past whatever shit from your past that you're keeping from me, you're going to have to do more than this," I tell him looking at him sternly.

I forgive him for the way he kept me here, mostly because he gave me the chance to be free. Out of everyone in my life, the man who kidnapped me is the only one who gave me the actual ability to choose my future.

But if he wants to be more than cordial, then I need more.

He blinks at me, and I walk away, leaving him with his own thoughts.

The next two days pass with a bit of awkwardness, none of us knowing exactly how to adjust to the new normal. A.K.A.—me not wanting to murder them, escape, or throw a fit, and all of them learning how to act like normal fucking human beings.

I'll need to buy a luggage set in Los Angeles, but I borrowed one of Lorcán's to pack my clothes for our trip. I think it will be nice to get him and Declan alone. Cillian and Finn's energies can be so intense.

While Cillian seems like he's trying to figure out how to get back in my good graces, Finn chooses to mostly ignore me. He's watchful but keeps to himself.

"Ready to go?" Declan asks from my bedroom door.

I need to bring up how this room needs to be redecorated before my heat. There are too many shitty memories, but that's on the back burner for now.

"Yeah, let's go," I say with a smile.

I'm so fucking ready to get out of here for a few moments and feel normal. Not that I was truly ever normal, but at least some semblance of a life.

Declan takes my bag, and we head downstairs. Lorcán is talking with multiple guys about safety precautions, and I assume they are coming with us.

Cillian is favoring his cane, but I can tell his walking is getting better every day as he approaches me. He swallows thickly, and I already know what he wants. I'm gracious enough not to make him ask as I wrap my arms around his waist and hug him tight.

I sag against his body, getting a deep inhale of his addictive scent. I haven't felt this good in so long. He strokes my hair, and I feel another piece of my wall crumbling down.

"Stay close to Lorcán and Declan," he pleads against my hair.

"Give me your suit jacket," I counter, breaking the hug and holding out my hand.

He bites his lip but doesn't call me out on my shit as he takes it off and puts it in my hand. I won't forgive him, not yet.

"I want to redo my nest—my room—I don't think I'd be comfortable in there during my heat," I tell him.

He blinks at me. "That isn't your nest."

"What? But there are no windows."

Cillian rubs the back of his neck. "I'll make sure they uncover them while you're gone."

My mouth drops, and he grabs my hand. Fuck, why does it feel so good to have his skin back on mine? And why don't I hate it anymore?

Why am I getting frustrated over not harboring a grudge? God, my emotions are everywhere.

"Can we sit down and talk when you get back?" he asks. I swallow and nod. "Good, be safe. Spend lots of money." He grins, dropping my hand.

I feel a little better in my decision already. Without all the misunderstandings and hurt, there's the potential that we could all honestly work together. I mean, maybe Finn isn't an active member of the pack, but it would be better to have him around than not at all.

Finn doesn't say goodbye, and I try not to let it bother me as I follow Declan and Lorcán to the waiting SUV.

I hate that I always get nervous when I fly, but even so, there's this lingering sinking feeling in my stomach as the flight attendant takes her place and the pilot does his final checks.

"Here," Lorcán says, handing me a shot of tequila that I toss back before handing him the glass again.

He takes the seat by the window next to me and closes the shade. The private plane is nice, but I'd be lying if I said it was as over the top as my father's.

"I'm sorry I left during the fight."

"It's okay, you're allowed to feel things," I reply, meaning it for both him and myself.

"I just rented a hotel room and drank by myself; I didn't do anything stupid."

"I didn't think you would."

"I just wanted this for so long, and to find out that you automatically have a connection with them that I never would, on top of you hating me, I couldn't take it."

"Lorcán," I sigh his name, and he places a hand on my thigh. It's far more than he ever would have done as my bodyguard.

"You mean it? You are open to this, to starting fresh?"

"I meant it. You know what I've always wanted," I whisper.

Despite the lies he told, he still knows me better than anyone else. He knows what a big deal it was for me to have a choice and what a hopeless romantic I truly am.

"I'm choosing this. I'm choosing you. That's what's changed, no matter how messy it all is," I assure him.

The plane takes off, and I hold Lorcán's hand, feeling comforted. As soon as we're in the air, he whispers into my hair.

"Good, because I will always choose you."