Emily's words spilled out like a river breaking its banks, her voice weaving through the lamplight as they lounged on the deep blue sectional sofa in the living room, plates cleared and coffee mugs steaming on the coffee table amid nodding wildflowers.
Night pressed thick against the bay windows, stars winking distant, the stone fireplace crackling low embers that painted their faces in flickering gold.
From the brutal boardroom ousting—Viktor's cold smirk as he stripped her CEO title—to her defiant leap into Hellen's world, co-owning Herlos and birthing Helly Paws from desperation and dreams, she laid it all bare. It was for the first time she had someone to talk with, who was listening to her every word carefully. Hellen did that as well, but she needed someone else too.
Her raven ponytail had loosened fully now, dark strands framing flushed cheeks, hoodie rumpled soft as she curled one leg beneath her, gesturing wild with slender hands.
Reyes listened calmly from her perch at the sofa's edge, massive frame sinking the cushions deeper, tactical jacket shrugged off to drape the armrest, black tee clinging to every ridge of muscle.
This woman was a chipmunk-parrot hybrid—chattering relentless, bright-eyed and relentless—but boredom couldn't touch her. Reyes's eyes tracked every flicker of Emily's face, scarred jaw softening imperceptibly, ears steady as she absorbed the saga without interruption, gloved hands loose in her lap.
"I hate Viktor! He isn't a good father at all."
"I hate Elena too! Oh, Elena is my 'mother,' who hates me."
"I hate Alexei too! He is my stepbrother! A creep!"
"I hate Kien too! He is a madman!"
"I hate Lily too! Do you understand? You can't like them at all!"
Just how many people did this woman hate? It was as if this woman hated anyone who did something bad to her. But then—why would someone hate this woman? This woman was utterly harmless. Within a small period of time, she had almost told her everything—from her history to her present.
"Reyes, do you live alone?" Emily finally paused, tilting her head, curiosity softening her features.
"Yeah," Reyes replied even, gaze drifting to the embers. "I live alone. But I got a mother and a brother."
"They don't live with you?" Emily pressed gentle, leaning closer, her warmth brushing the space between.
Reyes's full lips thinned, a sad shadow crossing her sharp features—high cheekbones hollowing faint, gray eyes clouding with old weight. "Mother lives with my brother's family. He's an omega, married to a doctor. They're stable—kids, house, the works. Better for her there than crashing with my nomadic ass."
The vulnerability hung raw, unguarded for a breath. Then suddenly, a soft body collided gentle—Emily's arms wrapping around Reyes's broad torso, curves pressing plush against her side, a unique scent flooding close. Raven hair tickled Reyes's chin, Emily's cheek nuzzling instinctive into the tee's warmth.
"I'm sorry," Emily murmured apology-soft, voice muffled against her, "I didn't mean to pry into something painful."
Reyes froze solid, breath catching sharp—instincts roaring to wrap those corded arms around the yielding form, pull her flush and shield her from the world. But discipline clamped down hard; she stopped herself mid-motion, gloved hand lifting hesitant instead.
She is my client. Besides, it's just a consolation. Don't forget that she is an alpha. Might take this as a challenge if I wrap my arms around her. Reyes's gentle fingers patted Emily's head once, twice—awkward but tender, threading light through silky raven strands, thumb brushing her temple feather-soft.
"It's fine, Emily."
"It's not fine," Emily whispered, her voice thick with regret, still nestled against Reyes's side, the fire's embers casting a warm, flickering halo around them. Raven strands clung to her cheeks as she pulled back just enough to search those eyes, her arms loosening but not letting go. "I shouldn't have asked about something so personal."
Reyes shook her head once, slow and deliberate, the scarred jaw softening further in the lamplight, her massive frame a steady anchor amid the night's quiet hush.
"No, it's really okay, Emily." Her voice dipped gentle, gloved hand lingering light in those silky raven waves. "You've spilled your whole soul tonight. Fair's fair. I owed you something real."
Emily's eyes shimmered, vulnerability cracking her poise as she bit her full lip, leaning in closer still. "Do you forgive me? I really didn't want to bring up your memories to the surface.
"Of course." The words rumbled simple, absolute, Reyes's gray gaze holding steady. "You don't have to worry about this thing."
Emily surged forward then, hugging her tightly—curves moulding soft and trusting against Reyes's broad chest, warmth flooding the space between, heart thumping rapid through hoodie.
This time, Reyes didn't freeze. Corded arms wrapped around her deliberate, one hand splaying firm across Emily's back, the other cradling her nape with careful strength—pulling her in close, protective.
She was soft, Reyes thought, pulse kicking low as Emily's breath puffed warm against her tee, body yielding like silk under steel. Too damn soft. The fire popped soft, wildflowers nodding in the hush, as the embrace deepened under the weight of night.
"Reyes... can you let go?" Emily's voice came muffled and soft against the black tee, a hint of strain threading her words as she shifted in the embrace. "You're hugging too tightly. It hurts a bit."
Reyes froze, eyes widening in sudden awareness—her arms locked tightly around Emily's soft form, alpha instincts overriding protocol. Shit. She released her immediately, hands pulling back swift but careful, gloved fingers flexing as if burned.
A rare blush crept up her neck, dusting high cheekbones faint rose under the lamplight, full lips parting on a sharp breath.
"I am sorry, Emily," she rumbled low, with genuine apology, broad shoulders hunching just a fraction—before she controlled herself.
Emily pulled back with a small, reassuring smile, raven strands tousled from the hug. "No, it's fine. Really." She stood fluidly, stretching her arms overhead with a soft sigh—back arching catlike, hoodie riding up to bare a sliver of midriff, the motion chasing the faint ache from Reyes's grip. "Look, give me ten minutes. Let me change clothes, and then we'll go."
Reyes nodded once, sharp, eyes tracking Emily's retreat toward the stairs—pulse still thrumming low, body stiff with unspoken heat. The fire popped lone embers, wildflowers silent witnesses to the charged hush.