“What did you get?” Stacey’s voice dripped with fake sweetness as she pointed at the feminine shopping bags in the twins' hands, trying to change the subject. She clasped her hands together, twisting her hips like an overexcited child. I could tell she thought she looked cute and innocent—she didn’t. She looked unhinged.

“Just some birthday gifts,” Aaron said casually, trying to turn away from her. “No big deal.”

“But my birthday was months ago, silly,” she pouted, patting his arm. She reached for Ryan’s sleeve, but he smoothly sidestepped her, putting me directly in her line of sight again.

The second Stacey’s eyes landed on me, her saccharine smile shattered.

“Why the hell is she allowed to come with you?!” The sweetness evaporated, replaced by venom and rage. Her manicured nails dug into her hips as her whole face turned an alarming shade of red.

Before I could even blink, the guys moved as one unit, forming a protective wall around me. Aaron and Ryan stepped in front, blocking Stacey’s view. Ethan shifted in front of me, his broad shoulders shielding me from her line of fire. Devin positioned himself behind me, his hand lightly resting on my shoulder. Mateo, with his usual intensity, hovered at my side, while Kylie kept her arm firmly linked through mine.

I inhaled sharply, my free hand instinctively resting on Ethan’s back. His muscles, taut at first, relaxed slightly under my touch. At the same time, Devin gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, grounding me. It was a strange, surreal moment—comforting yet disorienting. I could fight my own battles, but Stacey was a different kind of threat, and I wasn’t stupid enough to refuse backup when it was offered.

The most surprising part? None of the guys hesitated. They knew exactly who Stacey’s anger was directed at: me. There wasn’t even a question in their minds. That realization hit me harder than I expected—and it was something I’d need to unpack with Kylie later.

"You have no business being here with them!" Stacey shrieked, her voice carrying through the wide halls of the mall, drawing attention from passersby. "I’m their girlfriend! You’re embarrassing yourselves by hanging out with her!"

Stacey’s face twisted with fury, completely oblivious to the humans watching. If she shifted—if she lost control—there’d be hell to pay. My pulse quickened. We couldn’t risk exposure here.

Ryan’s voice cut through the tension like a whip, low and dangerous. “Understand this—you do not demand anything from us. Are we clear?”

Stacey’s expression faltered, but only for a second. “You belong to me,” she hissed. “What you do—who you see—that’s our business.”

Aaron’s voice was sharp as steel. “No. What we do, who we’re with, and where we go is our business—not yours. You are not our girlfriend. And you will watch your tone when you speak to us.”

The finality in his words left no room for argument.

“Let’s go,” Aaron commanded the group, his voice cold and resolute.

Before Stacey could launch into another meltdown, Kylie spun me around, keeping me in the center of the group. The guys held formation around me as we made our way through the mall, moving with precision like soldiers protecting something—or someone—precious. They spread out just enough for us to walk comfortably, but their tension was palpable.

Aaron and Ryan led the way, while Devin stayed close behind me, his presence a steady, grounding force.

“Got her?” Aaron asked over his shoulder as we reached the truck.

Ethan was already there, sliding an arm around my waist from behind. “Yep.”

The movement was seamless—natural—but intimate in a way that made my heart stutter. My back pressed against Ethan’s chest, his leg brushing against mine. It was oddly personal, yet not romantic, and it didn’t feel uncomfortable. Just... right. Another thing to overanalyze later, thanks to Kylie.

The bags were quickly loaded into the truck, and before I could even open my door, Ethan had lifted me off the ground with ease, placing me in the second row. Ryan and Aaron climbed into the front seats, while Leo, Devin, and Kylie claimed the third row.

The entire drive back to the pack house was silent. Not an awkward silence—something else. A weight lingered in the air, and I could feel the guys communicating through their mind link, their subtle glances and nods giving them away. Ethan’s leg pressed lightly against mine the whole ride, as if to remind me that he was there—and that I wasn’t alone.

I shifted slightly to give him more space, but his leg followed mine, maintaining contact. My heart fluttered at the small gesture. I wished Kylie could use a mind link so I could ask her what the hell was going on without the guys noticing.

When we pulled into the pack house garage, the tension finally eased.

“Thanks for today, everyone.” I smiled, trying to mask the swirling thoughts in my head. “Kylie, will you help me carry this stuff upstairs?”

Before Kylie could answer, Leo grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the front door. “Not a chance, Shorty. We’re not done yet.”

“Wait, what—?”

“You heard him.” Devin grinned mischievously. “You’re one of us now. And that means you must follow tradition.”

I blinked, utterly confused. “Tradition?”

“Yep. Birthdays get a poolside barbecue. No exceptions.” Devin’s voice echoed down the hallway, his grin widening. “And no complaining or whining allowed.”

Ryan and Aaron led the way to the kitchen, kicking off their shoes as they went. The hallway smelled like grilled meat and spices, the delicious aroma making my stomach rumble.

"But you already did breakfast and shopping," I protested.

Ryan turned and pressed a finger to my lips. “Nope. Complaining counts as whining.” His smile was devilish, but there was no malice in it—just pure amusement.

I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at my lips anyway. Kylie looped her arm through mine, grinning like the cat who caught the canary.

“You knew about this, didn’t you?” I accused her.

“Obviously.” She winked. “It wouldn’t be a surprise if we told you, would it?”

Devin appeared at my other side, nudging me playfully. “Come on, Little Bit. It’s a tradition—no escape.”

Every time I tried to step away, one of them found a reason to touch me—a hand on my back, a brush of fingers on my arm, a guiding nudge. It was subtle but constant. A low warmth bloomed in my chest at the realization: They weren’t just messing around. They were protecting me. Even now, when there was no immediate danger, they kept me close, always aware, always watching.

It hit me all at once—these weren’t just the goofy boys I’d grown up with. They were becoming the leaders they were meant to be. And for some reason, they’d decided that I was someone worth guarding.

As we reached the kitchen, the warmth in my chest spread, and for the first time in a long while, I let myself feel it—safe, cared for, and maybe... just a little bit happy.

It was going to be one hell of a birthday.