Debt is the only thing my father left me — that, and the suppressants that kept me alive.

When the Bonecrest Pack buys my bond from across the territory, I expect a hard bargain. I don't expect three alphas.

Wraith runs the numbers and never repeats himself. Thorne runs the front desk and never raises his voice. Reaver runs the kitchen and moves like the building doesn't know he's there. Together they run The Tidemark Hotel — and now, apparently, me.

I'm an omega peacemaker, which means my body was built to calm a room I never asked to be in. Six years of black-market Nullen kept that from anyone's notice. Six bottles left in my bag won't last the season.

I came to Saltgrave Bay to work off a debt in silence. Instead I'm folding towels for a pack that watches me like they're waiting for something to break — and burning through my suppressants faster than I can hide it.

The Coastal Pack Accord says I belong to whoever holds my bond. My biology says otherwise. And every week that passes, three dangerous men are learning exactly what I've spent six years trying not to become.

The tide doesn't ask permission before it comes in. Neither do they.