22 - Naked Truth

It had become a quiet sort of rhythm.

Mornings laced with sleepy kisses behind closed doors, nights stolen with hushed laughter and breathless sounds muffled into pillows.

They didn’t call it anything. Not in daylight. But when the house dimmed, and the kids’ breathing evened into dreams, Ezra’s hand would find Sebastian’s waist.

Sebastian would arch back into him without a word, his lavender scent blooming sweet and heady in the dark.

They were good at pretending nothing had changed.

Except everything had.

It had been nearly two months since they’d fully settled into Wesmere, and the most surprising thing wasn’t how easily the two of them had slipped into this semi-domestic chaos—it was how well the kids were doing.

That morning was syrupy bright, the kind of sunshine that made the kitchen tiles look too clean and the world too forgiving.

Ezra had already packed lunches—two for the twins with matching dinosaur stickers, one plain brown bag for Mia. Sebastian had promised to take the twins to the park after school, and they were buzzing with anticipation.

“Daddy, do you think the slide will still have that bump that made my butt bounce?” Camden asked, hopping in place as Sebastian crouched to help him with his velcro sneakers.

“Hope so,” Sebastian replied, brushing curls off Camden’s forehead. His scent rolled softly through the kitchen, lavender laced with sun-warmed sugar, calming and familiar.

Caleb tugged on Sebastian’s t-shirt, still barefoot. “I want to go faster this time. Like, zoom-fast. You have to race us again.”

“Again?” Sebastian gave him a mock scandalized look. “You only beat me last time because Ezra distracted me.”

Camden cackled. “He made you look at his muscles!”

Sebastian paused, shot a side glance at Ezra across the room. “They were... distracting.”

Ezra only smirked as he capped the juice bottles, the edge of his Alpha scent curling possessively around the room—faint spice and warm cedar. “You’re welcome.”

“Dad,” Caleb said, pointing. “He’s blushing.”

“Don’t say blushing,” Sebastian muttered. “It’s a skin reaction.”

“Sebastian, Daddy,” Camden corrected with a proud grin. “Dad is the big one. You’re the pretty one.”

Sebastian blinked. Ezra almost dropped a juice box from laughing.

“I—what does that even mean?”

“Means you’re the one who always smells nice and gives us hugs,” Caleb said. “Dad’s the one who yells at toast.”

“I don’t yell at—” Ezra stopped. “It was one time.”

“You glared it into burning,” Sebastian said. “I was there.”

Ezra wiped his hands, still chuckling, and headed down the hall. “Alright, I’ll go get Mia. You get their shoes on. Pretty one.”

Sebastian threw a balled-up sock at his back.

Ezra reached Mia’s room and knocked once. “Mia, let’s go. We leave in ten.”

No answer.

He frowned and knocked again—sharper. “Mia?”

Still nothing.

He opened the door.

She was sitting on the bed, headphones in, legs crossed, back hunched low. The phone was tilted at an angle that made his gut twist. Her thumb hovered, then tapped. A quiet whoosh.

Send.

The moment it happened, something primal lit up behind Ezra’s ribs.

His scent—sandalwood, smoke, and fury—snapped out in a wave so strong it stung the air.

“Amelia.”

She startled violently, clutching the phone to her chest as the earphones were discarded.

“What the hell did you just do?”

“I—it’s nothing! Don’t—” Her eyes were wide, wild, instantly on edge. Fear began to bloom beneath her own Omega scent—panicked and sharp.

“Give me the phone.”

“No—wait—Dad, please—”

“I said give it to me!”

He stormed across the room, Alpha scent spiking violently, thick and suffocating, and ripped the device from her hands. The heat of him was volcanic. She screamed, lunging to grab it back.

Ezra didn’t even hesitate. With a brutal snap of his wrist, he slammed it against the desk’s edge. Plastic shattered. The screen spiderwebbed and dropped in pieces. The sound was violent.

“Ezra!” Sebastian’s voice cracked down the hall, sharp with alarm, lavender rushing ahead of him in a wave of cool, soothing pheromones that tried—but failed—to cut through Ezra’s fury.

Mia’s hands flew to her mouth. Her whole body crumpled.

“You don’t send that shit to anyone!” Ezra’s voice thundered, throat raw. His scent reeked of danger now—so potent the twins, still down the hall, froze where they stood, instinct pressing them flat to the wall.

“You don’t— you don’t give yourself away like that, do you hear me?!”

“I didn’t—he said I was pretty—!”

“I don’t give a fuck what he said!” Ezra’s voice cracked like a whip. The air hummed with dominant pressure, nearly unbearable.

“You’re fourteen!”

His scent was a storm, sharp and blistering. The whole hallway stank of his grief and fury.

Sebastian appeared at the door, his scent bursting out like balm, clashing and wrapping, trying to buffer Mia from the worst of it. He didn’t speak yet, too focused on assessing.

Ezra shook the cracked phone fragments in one hand, face twisted. “You think this is a joke?” His voice trembled now, rage curling into devastation. “You think this is some harmless little game?”

Mia couldn’t speak. She was trembling, her fingers twisted in her blanket like it was the only anchor left.

“You are fourteen, Amelia. Fourteen. And you’re sending—” he waved a hand at the broken device— “that to strangers online? What the hell were you thinking?!”

“I wasn’t—” she hiccuped, tiny, wrecked.

“Damn right you weren’t.”

Sebastian stood frozen at the edge of the room, the air thick with Ezra’s scent, but the lavender pulsed in counterpoint, trying to calm.

Ezra raked a hand through his hair, pacing hard enough to shake the floorboards. His scent spiked again—burnt and bitter.

“Phone’s gone. Laptop, tablet—everything. Don’t ask. You’re grounded until you remember you’re a kid, not someone’s goddamn fantasy. And the door—” his voice shook with threat— “if I ever find it locked again, I swear, I’ll take it off its hinges with my bare hands. You’ll piss with it open, I don’t care.”

“Ezra.” Sebastian finally spoke, his voice sharp, firm. His lavender scent surged, cooling like balm over a burn. “That’s enough.”

But Ezra wasn’t done. He turned back to Mia, his expression shattering. “No more privacy. No social media. No school dances. You don’t go anywhere unless Seb or I drive you. You broke my trust.”

“I’m sorry,” Mia sobbed, finally breaking under the weight of it.

“You don’t get to say sorry and make it disappear! You don’t get to—” His voice cracked again.

“You don’t get to put yourself in danger and act like I won’t lose my mind. I already lost my sister. I’m not losing you.”

Silence. Even the air stopped moving.

Sebastian stepped forward, slow and certain, scent thick and persistent, smoothing the air like fingers against raw skin. His voice was quiet but cut through everything.

“I get it. But this? This isn’t helping. Look at her.”

Ezra did.

Mia was curled in on herself, gasping between sobs, blotched red and shaking. She looked like she didn’t know him at all.

Ezra’s rage evaporated like rain on a burner, leaving only the sting of smoke.

“I—” His voice failed, throat shredded.

Sebastian didn’t yell. He didn’t scold. He only asked, gentle but steel: “Go outside. Please.”

Ezra nodded once—barely—and turned on his heel. The door slammed, his scent trailing behind him like a bitter storm cloud.

The twins who had come up to see what was going on stood wide-eyed. Caleb clutched Camden’s hand.

“Is Dad mad because of Mia’s phone?”

Sebastian crouched, gently herding them toward the door. “Yeah, baby. But he’s not mad at you. Go put your shoes on. I’ll be right there.”

When they were gone, he returned to Mia. Sat down beside her on the bed. Didn’t touch her yet.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice wrecked.

He shook his head. “You don’t need to be sorry. Not to me.”

“I just thought he really liked me. Said my boobs would compliment my eyes.”

Sebastian’s heart twisted. He exhaled slowly. “We’ll talk through all of it. You’re safe. Okay?”

She nodded, eyes red and glassy.

“And Ezra?” Sebastian’s scent curled closer, shielding her.

“He’ll come back when he’s breathing again. He’s angry because he loves you. But he forgot how big he is when he yells.”

Mia sniffled. “He broke my phone.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said softly. “We’ll talk about that too.”