Chapter 91
Kara
Through the bond, I sense their excitement and nervousness thrumming like live wires. My heart starts pounding.
What are they hiding? But... yesterday they promised no more secrets about important things. This must just be a surprise, not a secret, right?
The distinction matters. Secrets are lies. Surprises are... gifts?
Cole's already helping me pack a beach bag with practiced efficiency—swimsuit, sunscreen, a silky evening dress I've never worn, flat sandals. I notice all three of them have canvas backpacks ready too. They definitely planned this in advance.
I take a deep breath and choose to trust—for the first time, I'm actively choosing to trust them instead of just submitting because I have no other choice.
This tiny mental shift makes me both nervous and excited. My hands tremble slightly as I zip the bag.
I send "I trust you" through the bond.
All three of them freeze. Their heads snap toward me in perfect synchronization.
Then warmth floods back through the bond—so much warmth I almost stagger. Joy. Relief. Love.
Fuck. They really mean it.
---
Asher drives the Arctic White Tesla Model X along Maui's winding coastal highway. Outside the window, the Pacific stretches blue and endless, dotted with golden beaches and swaying palm trees. The air conditioning keeps the car cool, but I can still smell the salt and tropical flowers seeping through the vents.
I sit in the passenger seat, gazing excitedly out the window like a kid going to Disneyland for the first time. "I'm so excited! I've never been on a yacht. I've never even been on a boat except for the ferry once when I was six."
Blake and Cole sit in the back seat, and I catch them exchanging glances through the rearview mirror. They're communicating through the mind link again—I can tell by the way their expressions shift in sync.
Suddenly, Cole leans forward from the back seat and kisses my right neck mark—Asher's mark.
Oh God.
The sensation explodes through my nervous system like lightning. My thighs clench instinctively. Heat floods my core so fast it makes me dizzy.
His fingers gently stroke that sensitive spot, and I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning. His mint scent grows rich and comforting, wrapping around me like a security blanket.
His voice turns husky, rough with emotion. "Are you happy?"
The question isn't about this moment's excitement. I can tell by the weight of it, by the vulnerability bleeding through the bond.
He's asking about being marked. About becoming their Luna. About everything.
My smile freezes. My stomach drops.
I pause for several seconds, my mind racing. What's the right answer? What do they want to hear?
But no—they asked for honesty. They promised to respect my truth.
So I give it to them.
"I... hope it works out."
The words come out small. Uncertain.
Cole's fingers tighten immediately on my neck. Not painfully, but with sudden tension. Through the bond, I feel his sharp hurt lance through me like a knife.
Fuck. Fuck, I hurt him.
Blake growls from the back seat, his voice going rough and dangerous: "What do you mean 'hope'?"
Shit.
I whirl around in my seat as fast as the seatbelt allows, tears already welling in my eyes, burning hot and immediate. "I just... I'm trying so hard to believe this is real, but I'm still scared... what if you go back to how you were before? What if this is just biology from the marking, not real love?"
My voice breaks on the last word. The tears spill over, hot tracks down my cheeks.
"Don't give up on me, okay? Even if I need time. Even if I pull away sometimes. Even if I can't be as certain as you are. Please don't—" My throat closes up. I can't finish the sentence.
Please don't abandon me like everyone else did.
Cole moves so fast I gasp. One second he's in the back seat, the next he's pulling me awkwardly over the center console despite the seatbelt, dragging me half into his lap. His arms wrap around me tight enough to hurt.
His chin rests on my shoulder, his breath hot against my ear. "I will never give up on you. None of us will. However long you need—a month, a year, ten fucking years—we'll give it to you."
Asher's eyes find mine in the rearview mirror, and the intensity in them steals my breath. His voice is low and rough, vibrating with Alpha command that makes my wolf whimper in submission: "Kara, the marking wasn't an ending. It was a beginning. We'll spend the rest of our lives proving you deserve love. You deserve gentleness. You deserve everything we failed to give you for ten years."
Blake's voice rasps from the back seat, and when I twist to look at him, his blue eyes are bright with unshed tears. "Fuck the past... I hate what we did to you. I hate myself for it every goddamn day. But I swear—I'll spend every remaining day making it right. Even if it takes forever."
The car fills with their mixed scents—Asher's black ebony cold and protective, Blake's gunpowder hot and fierce, Cole's mint clean and soothing. The combination wraps around me like a physical embrace, seeping into my lungs, making my head spin.
I break down sobbing.
Not delicate tears—ugly, gut-wrenching sobs that shake my whole body. Ten years of suppressed emotion finally finds release, pouring out of me in waves I can't control.
I cry for the eight-year-old girl left in the snow. For the eleven-year-old nearly drowned in the frozen river. For every slap, every cruel word, every night spent shivering in that fucking storage room.
But I also cry because—God help me—I'm starting to believe them.
---
Asher pulls into a secluded coastal viewpoint, the ocean stretching endlessly before us. Pacific waves crash against black volcanic rock with rhythmic violence. The parking area is empty—just us and the sea.
He puts the car in park and turns off the engine. The sudden silence is deafening except for my ragged breathing.
Cole asks quietly, his mint scent pulsing soothingly, "Let me."
He gently turns me from the passenger seat toward him, guiding me carefully to straddle his lap. The position is intimate—my dress rides up my thighs, my core pressed against his obvious arousal through his white pants.
He gazes into my reddened eyes, his thumbs wiping away my tears with infinite tenderness.
"I won't convince you with words," he says softly. "Our words have hurt you before. I'll prove it through time and action. But right now... let me show you another way."
I nod, not trusting my voice.
Cole's mint-and-ozone scent floods the enclosed Tesla, so strong it's almost visible. I feel calm and warm despite my tear-soaked face. My body instinctively relaxes against him, my rigid spine softening.
Cole kisses me slowly—forehead first, then the tear-stained corners of my eyes, then my lips. So gentle. Like I'm made of spun glass.
I respond actively, my fingers gripping his light blue shirt, bunching the fabric. I need this. Need the confirmation that I'm wanted, not just needed biologically.