“You’d think they were preparing for war, not a wedding.”

Zane’s voice carries across the chaos of the ceremonial grounds, where workers swarm like ants building an empire. He stands beside me with two plates balanced in his hands, watching a team struggle to anchor a massive white tent against the mountain wind.

“Maybe they are,” I murmur, accepting the plate he offers.

The compound has transformed over the past three days. White fabric drapes every surface, flowers arrive by the truckload, and caterers have commandeered the kitchens with military precision. Sarah’s wedding demands perfection, and Blood Ridge delivers it without question.

“You missed lunch again.” Zane settles onto the stone bench beside me. “Elena will have my head if you lose weight under my watch.”

“I wasn’t hungry earlier,” I admit, though the truth is more complicated.

Watching preparations for Paul’s wedding to my cousin twists my stomach into knots I cannot untangle. The pastries on my plate look beautiful, but my appetite fled hours ago.

“Eat anyway.” He nudges my shoulder with his own, a gesture that has become familiar over these past days. “Consider it a personal favor to your favorite Beta.”

I take a small bite to appease him, and his satisfied grin makes the effort worthwhile.

Zane has become my anchor in this overwhelming new world. He appears at my door each morning with some excuse to steal me away, and I find myself looking forward to his arrivals.

“Did I ever tell you about Paul’s fear of butterflies?” he asks, leaning back with theatrical comfort.

“Butterflies?” I nearly choke on my pastry, unable to reconcile the image with the dangerous Alpha who pins me against walls.

“Terrified of them until he was twelve.” Zane’s eyes dance with mischief as he continues. “Our mother had a butterfly garden, and Paul would run screaming through the house whenever one got inside.”

The laughter that escapes me feels foreign and wonderful, bubbling up from a place I’d forgotten existed.

“I refuse to believe that,” I manage between giggles, pressing my hand to my mouth.

“I have witnesses.” He holds up his hand in mock solemnity. “Ask Elena sometime, she’ll confirm everything.”

“Morgan!” Sarah’s voice slices through my laughter like a blade.

She stalks toward us, her wedding coordinator trailing helplessly behind. Her eyes narrow at the sight of Zane seated so close to me, at the easy intimacy we’ve developed.

“I need extra hands in the ballroom,” she announces, her smile sharp enough to draw blood. “Surely you can spare my cousin for actual work, Beta Zane.”

“Actually, I was just showing Morgan the—” Zane begins, but Sarah cuts him off.

“Now, Morgan.” The command leaves no room for negotiation, and old habits make my body respond before my mind can resist.

I rise from the bench, and Sarah’s hand clamps around my wrist the moment Zane’s view is obstructed.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you whoring yourself to both brothers,” she hisses against my ear as she drags me toward the ballroom. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Her nails dig into my skin with practiced cruelty, but the pain feels distant somehow, muffled by the memory of Zane’s warmth.

“Paul will tire of you eventually,” Sarah continues, shoving me through the ballroom doors. “And when he does, I’ll make sure you end up exactly where you belong.”

“I’m sure you will,” I reply quietly, and the calm in my own voice surprises me.

Sarah’s threats used to hollow me out, used to leave me shaking for hours afterward. But now I have people who smile when they see me coming, who save me plates of food and tell me stories just to hear me laugh.

Her hatred feels smaller against the weight of that unexpected kindness.

She releases me with a frustrated sound, unable to provoke the reaction she craves.

“If you’d let me,” he adds, his voice dropping to something almost vulnerable.

I turn to look at him, really look, and finally see what I’ve been blind to all along. The way his gaze lingers on my mouth when I speak, the way his touches always last a beat too long, the way he finds excuses to be wherever I am.

Zane doesn’t just enjoy my company.

Zane wants me.

“Beta Zane!” A voice calls from the compound, urgent and demanding. “The Alpha needs you in the war room immediately!”

He sighs heavily, the moment fracturing around us like thin glass.

“Duty calls,” he murmurs, rising from the bench with obvious reluctance.

His hand finds mine and squeezes gently, a promise wrapped in a single gesture. Then he disappears into the darkness, leaving me alone with the fairy lights and my spiraling thoughts.

I press my palm against my chest, trying to contain the chaos threatening to consume me from within.

Paul visits my room at night and sets my body on fire with his touch, with his hunger, with promises that feel like ownership and obsession combined.

Zane makes me laugh and brings me food and looks at me like I’m worth something precious.

Two brothers.

I am falling for both of them, and I have no idea how to stop.