Chapter 53 The Brothers Apology
Malia's pov
The knock comes at eleven the following morning.
I'm still in the spare pajamas July made me wear, sipping my second cup of coffee and attempting to concentrate on the homework I've been putting off. July is in class, and Freddy had left earlier for his morning lecture, so I'm by myself when I hear the sharp knock at the window.
All three of them in the hallway.
Aiden's face is a mess — bruises blooming across his cheekbone, split lip, knuckles wrapped in bandages. Rowan doesn’t look any better with a black eye and a cut above his eyebrow held together with butterfly bandages. Even Cian looks tired, dark circles under his eyes like he hasn’t slept.
Good news, they will heal fast, since Alpha wolves heal faster than any other wolf and they will get back their drop dead supermodel looks.
They don’t say anything at first. Just stand there, looking disoriented and unhappy and young even though they’re huge and powerful.
"Malia," Aiden starts, then stops. His voice is rough, like he’s been up all night. "Can we... can we come in?”
I should be saying no. I should slam the door shut behind me and retreat back to my homework and my space and my life.
But I can't, I make way.
They trickle in without a sound, and suddenly the large common room in July’s house seems uncomfortably full. Three alpha heirs in a pulling, aching space that, though it’s large and beautiful, is too small to hold all this tension. They look out of place, uncomfortable, as if the expensive furniture that surrounds them doesn’t belong.
“We sorry,” Aiden’s the first to say it, his voice rough with honesty. “Us all. We never wanted to hurt you.”
Rowan nods, stepping forward slightly. “Last night, what with the fighting, the violence, was completely and totally unacceptable. You remember that we were acting on instinct, not thinking about you.”
Aiden’s blue eyes lock with mine without hesitation. “We let our wolves take over. We treated you like you were a prize to be won, rather than a person to be loved. No? We’re responsible for that.”
“But you did hurt me,” I say, and my voice is steadier than I am. “You both hurt each other, you tore apart Rowan’s room, then you went and made me feel like I’m someone to be claimed rather than someone to be cherished.”
All three of them recoil like I just hit them.
“‘You're right,’ Rowan says quietly.”That’s true everything you just said. We got selfish. Territorial. We stopped considering what you need and started thinking only about what we wanted.”
"What I need is," I repeat, tightening my hands around my coffee mug, "for you to stop fighting. Stop making me choose and stop pretending like there's only one way this can go."
“There’s no other option,” Aiden says, but his voice is not as confident as normal. “Is there?”
I glance over at Cian. He’s been the calmest through all of this, just watching with those way-too-knowing eyes.
"What do you think?" I say to him directly.
Cian remains silent for a moment, weighing his words. Then: “I think the bond doesn’t follow the rules we want it to. I think it has picked all three of us, and fighting that is like fighting gravity. You could hardly do anything more pointless or painful."
“‘So What?’” Aiden balls his hands at his sides. "We're just ... sharing her? Taking turns? This is crazy."
“Is it?” Cian’s voice is cool and measured. “Crazier than us destroying ourselves for her? Crazier than us making her unhappy by creating an unworkable choice?”
The room grows silent. I see the war on Aiden’s face – possessive instincts versus love for me, his need to claim versus his need for my happiness.
"I don’t know how to do this," he finally concedes and the vulnerability in his voice shatters my heart. "I don't know how to share. I don’t know how to be okay with my brothers touching what’s mine."
"Then learn," I say softly under my breath. "Or just let me go. I'm so sick of being ripped to shreds. I can't stand to see you wreck one another. I don't."
They're all silent for a long moment.
"We'll try," Rowan says finally, his voice thick with emotion. "I swear to you, we'll try. No more fighting. No more making you pick a side. We'll work it out together."
"All of us," Cian says, never taking his eyes off him.
They all look at Aiden.
His jaw is going, muscles taut, and for a long moment I think he's going to say no. Going to tell me I have to pick him, here and now.
But then his shoulders sag, and he exhales. a long breath when sighing "Okay, he whispers. "Fine. We'll try."
I take a deep breath, feeling the gravity of what I'm about to say. "I need time. I need room to think — not near all of you, not near the bond that’s always tugging at me. I can't think, I can't make plans, I can't do anything when I'm in the middle of all this."
"How long?" Aiden asks, and I can hear the panic in his voice.
"I don't know," I confess honestly. "But I just want you to respect that. No coming to my lectures and no endless texts and no trying to charm me when I’m trying to decide what I want.”
"Sure, we can do that," Rowan says, though the words seem like they’re physically painful to say.
"Can you?" I say mock-challenging. "Because you all have been so good at giving me space so far."
Cian has the grace to look ashamed. "We'll do better. Whatever you need, Malia."
Exhaustion suddenly crashes into me and I nod slowly. "Then I need you to leave. I need to be alone, now."
They file out one by one, each of them glancing back at me as if the last time they'll see me is the last time they'll see me. Aiden lingers the longest at the doorframe, blue eyes flicking over my face for something—reassurance, forgiveness, hope.
None of it, I don’t give him any of it.
The young women -- at last the door close behind them I get back on the couch July has been kind enough to let me use and breathe out with reflexive breaths.
I am alone with my thoughts for the first time in weeks.
And I have no idea what I’m going to do.