تسجيل الدخولWalking back into Lakewood Elite feels nothing like the first time I stepped through its gates.
The buildings are the same. Sleek, expensive, untouched by the kind of chaos we just survived. The pathways are still perfectly maintained, the air still carrying that quiet, curated stillness of privilege and power. On the surface, nothing has changed. But everything feels different. And I realize why the moment I take a few more stepsWalking back into Lakewood Elite feels nothing like the first time I stepped through its gates. The buildings are the same. Sleek, expensive, untouched by the kind of chaos we just survived. The pathways are still perfectly maintained, the air still carrying that quiet, curated stillness of privilege and power. On the surface, nothing has changed. But everything feels different. And I realize why the moment I take a few more steps inside. People notice. At first, it’s subtle. A glance that lingers a second too long. A conversation that cuts off mid-sentence. Someone nudging the person beside them, whispering just loud enough that my name slips through. Then it builds. Heads turn more openly now. Conversations don’t even try to hide themselves. Phones lift, some discreetly, some not at all. The attention spreads outward in waves, following us as we move deeper i
The hall feels too quiet for what it holds. Not peaceful. Not calm. Just… heavy. Like the air itself is waiting. I stand just behind them, my fingers curled tightly together in front of me as I try to steady my breathing, but it doesn’t quite work. Every inhale feels shallow, every exhale unfinished, like my body hasn’t decided whether this is relief or something worse. Because I don’t know how this ends. That’s the part no one says out loud. Not Lance. Not Frederik. Not even the boys. We all know what Salvatore and Gustavo did. We saw it. Lived through it. Survived it. But knowing something is wrong doesn’t mean the world punishes it the way it should. Power has a way of protecting itself. Connections. Influence. Legacy. All the things those men built their lives on. And now Now everything comes down to whether that matters
For the first time in what feels like forever, no one is screaming. No alarms. No collapsing structures. No blood pooling where it shouldn’t. Just the quiet hum of equipment and the steady rhythm of the ocean somewhere beyond the temporary walls of the seaside facility. It should feel like relief. It almost does. But I don’t trust it. Not yet. Not after everything. Not after how close I came to losing them, how close I did lose them, if only for seconds that still feel carved into my chest like something permanent. So I stay busy. It’s easier that way. Easier than sitting still and letting my mind replay every moment where their breathing faltered, where their bodies gave out, where I thought… No. I don’t go there. Instead, I focus on what’s in front of me. On them. Luca is the first one to notice.
ALPHA HARLEY The pain doesn’t come in waves anymore. It stays. Constant. Crushing. Relentless in a way that makes it impossible to separate where it starts and where it ends. It feels like my body is giving up piece by piece, like whatever’s been holding me together since we escaped is finally tearing under pressure it was never meant to carry this long. Voices move around me, Lance, others, but they blur together, distorted and distant, like I’m already slipping somewhere I won’t come back from. I don’t fight it. Not at first. Because I’ve known this feeling before. Not like this, not this deep, not this final, but close enough to recognize what it means when your body starts losing the argument. My breath comes shallow, uneven, every inhale dragging through my chest like something is resisting it from the inside. And through all of it… There’s only one thought t
ALPHA HARLEY I wake up to the sound of the ocean. For a few seconds, that’s all there is. No pain. No urgency. No memory of where I am or what went wrong. Just the steady rhythm of waves breaking against the shore, rising and falling in a pattern that feels almost peaceful. It’s disorienting in the worst way because peace is the last thing I should be feeling. The moment stretches just long enough for me to almost believe it, almost convince myself that whatever happened in that lab, whatever we barely survived, is over. Then reality settles in. Not all at once, but in slow, unavoidable pieces. The stiffness in my limbs. The weight in my chest. The quiet, lingering weakness that makes even breathing feel heavier than it should. And beneath all of it… The bond. Still there. Still tethered. But not whole. My eyes open slowly,
ALPHA GAVIN The shack isn’t much. If anything, it looks like it should have collapsed years ago. Wood worn pale by the sun, corners softened by salt and time, the kind of place people forget exists until they accidentally stumble into it. Which makes it perfect. Because right now, I don’t want anything polished or controlled or intentional. I just want somewhere quiet enough that I don’t have to pretend I’m fine. The door creaks softly behind us when I push it closed, and for a second, neither of us moves. The air inside is warm, still carrying traces of heat from the early sun, and faintly smells like dried wood and sea air. It’s simple. Small. Too small, maybe. Because suddenly she feels closer. Too close to ignore. I let go of her hand, but only barely. My fingers don’t really leave hers. They just shift, like I’m not quite ready to lose t
A few days had passed since the Alpha showdown, and the boys, to their credit, had dialed back on the testosterone just enough to let me breathe. Which meant it was the perfect time to go back to work. Ambriz Animal Care was still my happy place even with the loud barking, unstoppable meows, sti
Harley dropped me off at the house and mumbled something under his breath about having to do something else and that he’ll be back later. It was obvious he was just avoiding trying to face what happened in his car and honestly, I didn’t mind it because I couldn’t deal with it right now either.
I smelled it before I saw it. A hint of… garlic, woodsmoke, charcoal, and a ton of different spices. I also heard voices, low but definitely competitive, and it’s because of that I slowed down in the hallway. I arrived on the back patio, tugging my sweater sleeves over my hands, and stopped
Moving out wasn’t supposed to make me feel like I was some sort of failure. Except it did. Worse, I hated doing it when it felt like I was packing up pieces of a life I barely got to live. And though the dorm wasn’t really all sunshine and rainbows, I still tried to make it mine. I had added







