The Alpha’s Surgeon

29

Papi led the boys upstairs, the worn wooden steps creaking softly underfoot. “Come on, I want you to see something,” he said, voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. He opened the door to a small, cozy room filled with mementos of years past—posters, old trophies, and shelves of books that had traveled with Rae and Del when they came to stay.

He gestured to the walls. “This is where Del and Rae stayed when they first arrived. Fifteen years old, scared out of their minds, but determined. And over here…” He moved toward a small dresser, pulling out a stack of old photo albums. “Pictures. Memories of them growing up, learning, surviving, thriving.”

The boys crowded closer, flipping through images of Del and Rae over the years—smiles at the food shack, camping trips, silly faces with Aspen as a pup, and then a series of photos from ten years ago when Remi had first joined them.

“Remi came here when?” Will asked quietly.

“Ten years ago,” Papi said, voice softening. “She came with them, part of their little found family. They’ve looked out for each other ever since. You see the bond? It’s strong, unshakable. And that’s the kind of loyalty you’re dealing with.”

Trey leaned closer to see a picture of the three girls, Aspen tiny at their feet. “They’ve been through a lot together.”

Papi nodded. “Exactly. Every challenge, every storm… they’ve faced it as a unit. And that’s why Aspen trusts them, why they trust each other, and why they’ll need to know they can trust you too.”

Elijah ran a hand along the edge of a frame, eyes lingering on a younger Rae laughing, messy hair and all. “It’s clear how tight-knit they are.”

“And that,” Papi said, gesturing around the room, “is why you need to respect them. They’ve built this life from scratch, and they protect it fiercely.”

Will, who had been quietly observing from the doorway, murmured, “I can see why they’re so… unshakable. Growing up like that, with each other, you either survive or you don’t.”

Papi smiled softly. “Exactly. And now it’s up to you to show them you’re worth that trust.”

Papi descended the stairs with a final nod over his shoulder, leaving the boys alone in the room. The silence that followed wasn’t empty—it was thick with the weight of what they’d just heard.

Will leaned against the wall, arms crossed, jaw tight. “So… all this,” he gestured vaguely to the photos and memorabilia, “this is what shaped them. All of it. No wonder they’re… intense.”

Trey ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “Yeah, but intense doesn’t even cover it. They’ve survived abusive parents, controlling families, and somehow kept each other sane. And then Remi shows up… they’ve had a decade of doing life on their terms.”

Elijah sat on the edge of the bed, staring at a photo of a teenage Rae holding a tiny Aspen. “It’s like… every decision they’ve made since coming here has been calculated to survive and protect each other. And now, anyone coming into their world—us included—we need to understand that. Respect isn’t optional.”

Will’s eyes narrowed. “Respect. Got it. But it’s more than that. We have to be… careful. Misstep, and we’re not just dealing with bad blood—we’re dealing with decades of distrust and trauma.”

Trey chuckled softly, though it wasn’t lighthearted. “And yet, somehow, they make it look easy. All that history, and here they are—running the show, holding nothing back.”

Elijah’s lips pressed together in thought. “It explains a lot about Aspen too. That dog isn’t just hyperactive; he’s a litmus test. If he doesn’t trust someone, they don’t enter their world.”

Will’s expression softened slightly. “So if Aspen’s okay with us, it’s not just the dog being cute—it’s them saying we can be trusted.”

Trey leaned back, smirking faintly. “Which means we better earn that trust—and fast.”

Elijah’s green eyes flicked toward the door. “Yeah. Because once they sense anything off, nothing—and I mean nothing—slips by them.”

The room fell quiet again, each of them lost in their own thoughts, processing the layers of strength, loyalty, and protective instinct that had forged the women before them. This wasn’t just about showing up—it was about proving they could stand alongside them, earn their trust, and navigate a world the girls had already survived once.

The girls crept quietly toward the top of the stairs, Del leading the way with a mischievous glint in her eyes. She crouched slightly, tiptoeing like a shadow in the dim light, and then—without warning—she lunged forward, letting out a loud, playful shriek.

“Boo!”

The boys jumped in unison, some knocking over chairs, all of them startled. Will let out a sharp laugh, while Trey stumbled backward, hands raised defensively. Elijah swore under his breath, eyes wide with surprise.

Before the boys could recover, Remi and Rae rounded the corner, laughing uncontrollably. Aspen trotted happily behind them, tail wagging, completely unbothered by the chaos. The dog barked once as if to announce his victory in some invisible game.

“Seriously, Del?” Will groaned, trying to straighten the papers he’d knocked over.

“Completely worth it,” Del said through laughter, brushing imaginary dust off her shoulders.

Rae leaned against the railing, still chuckling. “You guys are way too jumpy. Aspen even thought it was funny.” She bent down to ruffle the dog’s fur.

Remi shook her head, smirking. “I think we finally found the perfect way to get your attention.”

Trey ran a hand through his hair, still laughing nervously. “Yeah, we got it. Loud and clear.”

Elijah’s grin finally returned, though he muttered, “Worth it, though… you all make a good team of chaos.”

Del smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Chaos runs in the family. You’ll get used to it—or die trying.”

Aspen barked again, trotting between the boys and girls like he was the ringleader of the mischief.

The laughter lingered, the tension of the previous conversation melting away, replaced by the familiar warmth of camaraderie and playful chaos.