Accidentally Mated To Four Alphas-Chapter 287: _ Human City

The hotel is the kind of place humans come to feel important.

Five-star, glass-and-marble important. The lobby smells like citrus polish and money. Soft music hums from hidden speakers, a piano track engineered to be soothing without being memorable. Everything is beige, cream, and gold. Everything whispers that nothing bad has ever happened here.

Which makes the Bellamys walking in look like a crime scene wandering off its leash. They draw eyes immediately. Not even subtle glances or polite curiosity. They are drawing full-on stares.

The concierge freezes mid-smile when he sees them. A woman near the elevators gasps quietly and tightens her grip on her purse. A businessman openly turns to watch them pass, his mouth pinched like he’s trying to decide whether to complain or film.

Their clothes are ruined. Shredded and soaked with blood that no amount of air-drying has made respectable. Darien’s shirt is torn straight through the shoulder, with dark stains crusted at the collar. Grayson’s jeans are ripped at the thigh and knee, hastily wrapped in a clean-but-obviously-not-sterile bandage. Heidi’s hair is still tangled with leaves and ash, butterscotch strands clumped where blood has dried.

Morgan looks like he crawled out of a myth humans were never meant to survive reading about. And he is having the time of his life.

"Oh relax," he says brightly as they stop at the check-in desk, leaning one elbow against the marble like he belongs there. "They’re just impressed. We look like we survived a very intense team-building retreat."

Darien doesn’t laugh but Grayson and Heidi do.

The clerk, who is a young, wide-eyed, and very much not paid enough for this man, stares at Morgan, then at the blood, then back at Morgan.

"Sir," he says carefully, "are you... injured?"

Morgan grins with all his teeth. "Define injured."

Heidi chuckles at that, then winces when the motion pulls at her ribs. Grayson notices immediately.

"Careful," he murmurs. "You’re still held together by stubbornness and vibes."

"I’ve always relied on those," she says dryly.

Darien slides his credit card across the counter with the calm efficiency of a man who does not want to draw attention and is failing spectacularly. "We’ll take the penthouse suite," he says. "Two nights."

The clerk blinks. "The... the largest room?"

"Yes."

"With the private elevator?"

"Yes."

"The one that’s usually reserved for-"

"Yes," Darien repeats in a final tone, signaling he doesn’t want to hear anymore of the clerk’s questions.

Morgan leans closer to Heidi, stage-whispering, "See? He loves luxury too. He just pretends he doesn’t."

Darien shoots him a look sharp enough to draw blood.

By the time they’re ushered into the private elevator—after a hurried exchange, a discreet call to management, and a thinly veiled request that they please not bleed on the carpet—the tension is already crawling back under Morgan’s skin.

It’s anticipation, not fear.

The elevator doors slide shut with a soft chime, sealing them into a mirrored box that reflects their state back at them from every angle.

Grayson makes a face at his reflection. "Wow. I look like I lost a bar fight with a lawnmower."

"You won," Morgan says. "Technically."

Grayson hums. "Did I?"

Morgan’s smile twitches. The suite is obscene. That’s the only word for it.

It’s less a room and more a private floor with open-plan living space with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a glittering city that has no idea how close it just came to being collateral damage. Plush couches in soft gray. A dining table long enough to host a war council. A bar stocked with things Morgan recognizes and several things he absolutely does not.

There are three bathrooms. One of them has a bathtub large enough to drown regrets in.

Grayson lets out a low whistle. "Okay, yeah. I could heal faster in here."

Heidi wanders toward the windows, pressing her palm lightly to the glass. The city sprawls beneath them, alive and unaware. Her reflection stares back at her—pale, glowing faintly despite the exhaustion dragging at her bones.

Darien watches her like she might vanish if he looks away for too long. Morgan wonders what’s running through her mind after glimpsing the longing look she wears.

Perhaps, she could be missing her human family. She’s had a lot going on since she arrived in the pack that she might have forgotten them for a while there. But now, being back in the human city, it must bring back certain buried memories.

That’s why, Morgan thinks, that’s why I have to win the whole world for us so that she has enough to never ever miss her weak human family anymore. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

"She would thank you forever if you gave her that." The demon core agrees.

Morgan flops onto the couch, boots still on, smearing something dark across the fabric. "So," he says cheerfully, "on the bright side, if the humans decide to call the police, we can just jump off the balcony and traumatize a different demographic."

Darien turns on him. "This isn’t funny."

Morgan lifts his hands in mock surrender. "Didn’t say it was. Said it was efficient."

"I mean it," Darien presses. "I have a bad feeling."

Heidi exhales slowly, rubbing her arms. "So do I."

Grayson shifts, his humor dimming. "That makes three."

Morgan tilts his head, studying them. He can feel the demon core humming softly, pleased and patient. It knows what’s coming. He knows what’s coming.

That’s the problem.

"Oh come on," He blurts lightly. "We just wiped the forest floor with a pack of ancient bloodsuckers. We’re alive. We’re indoors. There are towels thicker than my self-control in this place. Let’s enjoy the miracle."

Darien’s jaw tightens. "You’re deflecting."

"Shocking," Morgan replies. "I never do that."

Darien steps closer. "You’re too calm."

Morgan smiles harder. "You’re too tense."

Grayson clears his throat. "I’m too injured to mediate a sibling showdown right now, so can we maybe not do this while my ribs are still arguing with my lungs?"

That gets a reluctant snort out of Heidi.

Darien exhales, scrubbing a hand down his face. "Fine. We need to talk about what comes next."

Good, that’s better than talking about having a bad feeling because no one but me is bringing the bad that you are busy feeling, Morgan grins inwardly.