Chapter 40
Kara
Five a.m.
My internal clock drags me from shallow sleep with the efficiency of a prison bell. For ten years, this has been my wake-up time—the hour I start scrubbing three floors of Midnight Estate and preparing breakfast for people who've never once said thank you.
Blake's arm is heavy across my waist. Asher's chest rises and falls against my spine in steady rhythm. Even Cole's mint scent drifts from the corner couch, a reminder that I'm surrounded.
I try to extract my arm from Blake's grip. Slowly. Carefully.
His fingers tighten reflexively. The movement presses my back harder against Asher's chest, and suddenly I'm drowning in the combined scent of ebony-and-tobacco mixing with gunpowder-and-leather. My glands pulse hot. My core clenches with sudden, unwanted need.
Focus. Move. Get out.
I shift again, more deliberately this time. My shoulder brushes Asher's sternum.
"Kara?" His voice is gravel-rough with sleep. Those pale blue eyes crack open, fixing on me in the pre-dawn darkness. "Where are you going?"
"Bathroom," I whisper. It's not entirely a lie—I do need to pee. But more than that, I need to move. To clean. To work. Because idle hands in this house mean Victoria's cold stare and another lecture about "earning my keep."
"I'll come with you." Asher starts to sit up.
"No." The word comes out sharper than intended. "I can manage a bathroom trip alone."
His ebony scent sharpens with suspicion. "Then why are you trying to sneak out?"
"What's going on?" Blake's voice is still thick with sleep, but his arm bands tighter around my waist. Possessive. Claiming.
"Nothing. I just—" My throat closes. How do I explain that ten years of servitude doesn't evaporate overnight? That even though they crowned me their Luna yesterday, my body still responds to invisible masters?
"Kara." Asher's tone drops into that Alpha register—not quite a command, but close. "Tell us."
I bite my lip hard enough to taste copper. "I need to start cleaning. The downstairs hall is probably a mess from last night's party, and the kitchen—Marcus and Victoria will be up at eight, and they'll expect everything to be—"
"Are you fucking serious right now?" Blake sits up so fast the mattress bounces. His black hair is sleep-mussed, falling into those blue eyes that are suddenly very, very awake. "You think you're getting up at five in the goddamn morning to scrub floors?"
"It's my job." The words are automatic. A mantra I've repeated for a decade.
"No." Asher's hand closes over mine where it clutches my snow wolf plushie. His touch is gentle, but his voice is iron. "It was your job. It's not anymore."
"But if the house isn't clean when they wake up—"
"Then they can fucking deal with it." Blake's gunpowder scent explodes through the room, hot and aggressive. "Or better yet, they can clean it themselves. You're not their maid, Kara. You're our mate. Our future Luna. And future Lunas don't scrub toilets at five in the fucking morning."
The vehemence in his voice makes me flinch. My wolf preens at his protectiveness, but my human side cringes away from the intensity.
"Blake." Cole's mint scent drifts closer as he rises from the couch. His bare feet are silent on the carpet as he approaches the bed. "Ease up. She's scared."
"She shouldn't be scared of us." Blake's jaw clenches. "She should be scared of what I'll do to anyone who makes her feel like she has to keep playing servant."
"That's not helping." Asher shoots his brother a warning look before turning back to me. His thumb strokes small circles over my knuckles. "Kara, listen to me. You don't owe Marcus and Victoria anything. The debt is paid. You heard me announce it last night in front of the entire pack."
"But—"
"No buts." His ebony scent wraps around me like a vice. Not cruel, but unyielding. "You're not getting out of this bed to clean. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever again unless you want to."
Want to. As if wanting has ever been part of the equation.
I swallow hard. "They'll be angry if breakfast isn't ready."
"Let them be angry." Blake leans closer, his gunpowder scent mixing with Asher's until I can barely breathe. "My dad and mom are former Alphas now, Princess. They answer to us. Not the other way around. And if they have a problem with their breakfast schedule, they can take it up with me."
The casual arrogance in his tone should irritate me. Instead, it makes something in my chest loosen. Just slightly.
"Besides," Cole adds, kneeling beside the bed so we're eye-level, "we usually don't even get up until noon. The Beta house staff handles breakfast service. They cleaned up after the party last night. Everything's fine."
I blink at him. "But... I always—"
"You always did it because no one bothered to tell you that you didn't have to." Cole's mint scent softens, becomes almost soothing. "That's on us, Kara. We should have realized years ago that you were working yourself to death while we slept in."
Guilt flashes across all three faces. Blake looks away first, jaw tight. Asher's grip on my hand tightens fractionally. Cole's blue eyes sheen with something that might be tears.
"So no." Asher's voice drops to a murmur. "You're not cleaning today. You're staying right here with us until we're all ready to face the day. Together."
"I don't know how to just... lie here." The admission feels like peeling off skin. "I don't know how to be still when there's work to be done."
"Then we'll teach you." Cole reaches out slowly, giving me time to pull away. When I don't, his palm cups my cheek. His touch is warm. Safe. "Starting right now. Just... breathe, Kara. Close your eyes. Let yourself rest."
"But—"
"No buts," Asher echoes his earlier words. "Just trust us. For once, just trust that we've got you."
Trust them. The two words feel impossible. Foreign.
And yet...
Blake's arm is still around my waist, solid and grounding. Asher's hand covers mine, thumb still tracing those maddening circles. Cole's mint scent drifts over me like a cool breeze, settling my racing thoughts.
They're not forcing me back down. They're not grabbing or restraining or threatening.
They're just... holding.
"Okay." The word slips out before I can stop it. "Okay. But just for a little while."
"As long as you need, Baby." Blake presses a kiss to my temple. "We're not going anywhere."
I let them guide me back down to the mattress. Blake's chest becomes my pillow. Asher curves around my back, his body a warm shield. Cole returns to the couch but keeps his gaze on me, those blue eyes steady and reassuring.
My snow wolf plushie is still clutched in my arms. I bury my face in its worn fur, inhaling the faint scent of detergent and memories.
Slowly—so slowly—I feel my muscles start to unclench. My breathing evens out. The frantic need to move, to work, to prove my worth begins to fade.
Maybe... maybe they're right. Maybe I don't have to earn my place here anymore.
Maybe I can just... rest.
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