It isn’t urgent.
It’s ours.
And I don’t feel like I’m borrowing it anymore.
By the time we leave for work, the morning has settled into its usual rhythm. They don’t hover. They don’t crowd me. They move around me with easy coordination, touching in small ways – a hand at my lower back, fingers brushing mine as someone passes – subtle, unconscious affirmations.
The café door chimes when I push it open.
Aisling looks up from the counter, takes one slow look at me, and smirks.
“Well,” she drawls. “You look thoroughly…claimed.”
Heat rises to my cheeks, but I don’t duck my head. “I am,” I say evenly.
Her brows lift. “All four?”
“Yes.” There’s no shame in it. No defensive edge.
Just fact. And more than a smidgen of pride.
She studies me for another second, then nods once. “You’re glowing.”
And I am. Not flushed. Not fevered.Glowing.
The door opens again ten minutes later.
Kai strolls in first, sunglasses pushed up into his hair like he’s wandered here by accident. He leans on the counter, flashes Aisling a grin, then drops a casual kiss to my temple.
“Morning.”
It’s deliberate. Public. Easy.
Finn appears next, coffee already in hand.
“You forgot this,” he says, setting it down in front of me before I can protest.
Our fingers brush. The bond warms briefly – steady reassurance.
Koa slips in during a lull and quietly fixes the espresso machine that’s been sticking for weeks. He doesn’t announce it. He just adjusts something inside the casing and wipes his hands.
“It won’t grind now,” he tells Aisling.
Sol arrives last, moving straight through to the kitchen. A few minutes later he reappears with a plate.
“You’re eating,” he tells me.
“I already?—”
“You’re eating.”
Aisling watches the choreography with open fascination.
“This isn’t chaotic,” she mutters. “It’s…organised.”
“It’s coordinated,” Kai corrects lightly. “We’re a proper pack now. Thanks to Lani.”
They don’t crowd me. They don’t compete. They orbit.