CHAPTER FIFTEEN || HARRIS
Iwoke to cold sheets and silence. My hand reached across the bed automatically, searching for Reed’s warmth. Finding nothing, I blinked my eyes open, squinting against the pale morning light filtering through the window.
The cabin was empty.
I sat up slowly. The wounds from the Algea’s claws had healed—Simone’s blood had seen to that—but my muscles were just slightly stiff and sore in a deep-tissue way that let me know my body was still catching up to what had happened. I rolled my shoulders experimentally. Almost no pain.
That’s when I saw the note. It was propped against the coffee mug on the nightstand, folded once.
Harris— Had to open the bar. Didn’t want to wake you. You needed the rest. —R
Unease slithered through me.
Reed had never left without saying goodbye before. Even on the mornings when he’d slipped out early to check on the pack or the bar, he’d always woken me up first.
I turned the note over, as if there might be more on the other side. There wasn’t.
Well, last night had been a lot. For both of us. I’d almost died.
Reed had watched it happen, paralyzed and helpless. And then there’d been that awful, haunted look in his eyes afterward. He’d barely spoken on the walk back to the cabin.
But I’d thought we were okay. We’d fallen asleep together, his arms around me.
Now I wasn’t so sure.
He’s processing, I told myself firmly. Give him space. He’ll come around.
Reed wasn’t the type to talk through his feelings in real time. He needed to sit with things, turn them over in his mind, work through them alone before he could share them. I understood that. Hell, I was the same way most of the time. Figuring out how to do that together was a learning curve.
That’s all this was.
Pushing the thought aside, I got out of bed. My stomach growled immediately. When was the last time I’d eaten? Yesterday afternoon, maybe? Before the witches arrived and opened the portal. Before everything went sideways.
Or not completely sideways. Sally was alive. All of us had lived. The plan was still a success, even if the Algea had attacked the moment the portal opened. We’d fought it off.
Trying to reassure myself, I shuffled into the kitchen, made myself a piece of toast, and poured a mug of coffee from the pot Reed must have made before he left. It was lukewarm but way stronger than usual.
It occurred to me only then that Reed and I hadn’t shared dreams last night. Which meant he probably hadn’t slept.
Again.
I ate the toast standing at the counter, staring out the window. Sarah and Lacey pushed open the door to the mess hall, a few cabins down. The witches’ cars were still parked in the gravel lot—they were still here, too. Recovering, probably. The spell they’d cast yesterday had been no joke.
I should check on them, I decided. Better than sitting at the cabin and letting my thoughts get the better of me. And then maybe, after he’d had a little time to process, I’d swing by the bar and talk to Reed. I needed to make sure we were okay.
* * *
The mess hall was louder than I expected. I heard the voices before I even reached the door. Laughter, the clatter of dishes, the low hum of conversation. Warm and alive in a way that reminded me of family, of belonging.
I stepped inside and stopped short. The space was surprisingly crowded. Long wooden tables filled the center of the room, bench seating on either side, all of it filled with werewolves, witches, and vampires.
Lee and Hunter sat close together at one table with Daniel beside them. Lacey and Sarah were already sitting across from them, even though they’d just walked in right before me. Oliver sat alone near the window, a mug of coffee in his hands, looking lost in thought.
And then there were the witches. Poppy and Simone sat at one end of a table, across from Ethan and Nathaniel.
Tatiana was on Ethan’s other side, her posture stiff and formal even while sitting, holding a cup of coffee she was regarding with barely concealed disdain.
Maybe she was used to something higher-end than whatever the pack was serving.
Emma stood at the stove in the small kitchen area at the back, flipping pancakes onto a platter. Belatedly, I realized I could smell butter and maple syrup in the air.
She looked up when the door closed behind me and smiled. “Harris! Come sit. You must be starving.”
Every head in the room turned toward me and the conversations all stopped.
But then Simone raised her mug in a small salute, and Poppy smiled at me. And when Lee called out, “Morning, hero!” the sudden tension broke.
Ducking my head, heat in my cheeks, I crossed the room to the nearest empty seat, next to Oliver, who nodded at me politely, and sat down.
Emma appeared a few moments later with a plate piled high: pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, toast. She set it in front of me with a firm look. “Eat. All of it. Goodness knows you need to get your strength back after last night.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, picking up my fork.
She patted my shoulder and returned to the stove.
Almost immediately, Hunter got up and moved to my table, sliding his plate in front of him and then dropping onto the bench across from me without a word.
Lee sat down beside him a moment later. Daniel followed behind them, hovering nearby—not sitting down but not leaving the twins, either.
His gaze kept flicking to Hunter, as if to reassure himself that the wolf was still okay.
Lacey and Sarah moved over from their table as well, bringing their plates with them. Even Lindsey got up and joined us, claiming the seat on my other side.
It should’ve felt strange, being surrounded by the pack. But it didn’t.
“There’s still a spot,” Lacey said firmly, looking at Daniel. She pointed to the seat next to Oliver.
“I’ll stand,” he said immediately.
She scowled at that, then went back to her food.
“How’s the back?” Lee asked, peering at me with genuine interest.
“Almost as good as new,” I admitted, not sure what to make of them all suddenly sitting at my table. “The injuries are healed.”
“Vampire blood is incredible stuff,” Lee said. “It fixes just about anything short of death.”
“Sometimes even that,” Simone murmured from her table.
Then Daniel said quietly, “Thank you. For last night.” When I looked up at him—still standing behind Hunter—his eyes were serious, but his expression was more open than I’d seen before. He added, “We all love Sally. Everyone does.”
“She feeds half the town,” Hunter agreed, poking his brother. “If not for her and Emma, most of us would starve to death.”
“I’m serious,” Daniel said. “You didn’t have to go in there after her. But you did. You saved her life.”
“Anyone would’ve done the same,” I replied, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.
“No,” Lindsey said, arching a brow at me. “They wouldn’t have. Most people would’ve been scared shitless to go through a portal into another dimension.”
Lee nodded in agreement. “You’re braver than you look, Harris.”
“Hey now,” I said, grateful to have a way to defuse all the seriousness. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Hunter chuckled. “He means you don’t look like you hop into other dimensions and face terrifying monsters for funsies.”
I grinned back at him. “You don’t know me very well, then.”
“And you came here in the first place to track down your mate,” Sarah added. “And from what we can tell, you haven’t let the alpha thing scare you off.”
“And you stayed,” Oliver chimed in, watching me with a thoughtful expression. “Even after you understood what was going on. You could’ve left. Most sane people would’ve. But you’re still here.”
“Yeah.”
Oliver was right, technically. Nothing was physically stopping me from going.
And I probably still had my job if I wanted it.
The IA investigation would resolve itself one way or another, even without Cole’s involvement.
My apartment was still waiting for me, too. My old life was there, collecting dust.
But the idea of going back felt… impossible.
“I guess what we’re trying to say is that you’re pretty badass,” Lee added, flashing me a teasing grin that made me feel more welcome than I had in an entire decade on the force. “For a human.”
“Give the man a break,” Hunter said playfully. “We were human once, too.”
At those words, Lee’s smile dimmed and he nodded, his gaze drifting down to his plate. “Yeah. That’s true.”
“This place reminds me of summer camp,” I said, mostly to break the sudden tension.
Emma, carrying a mug of coffee, walked over and joined us. She raised her eyebrows at me. “Summer camp?”
“Yeah. When I was a kid. My mom sent me every year, near Mount Shasta. Big mess hall, a bunch of cabins scattered around, everyone eating together in the mornings. It felt like this.” I gestured vaguely at the room. “Communal. Safe.”
Emma’s expression became troubled. “You’re right. It used to be a summer camp, actually. A very long time ago.”
I blinked. “I mean, I guess that makes sense.”
“It went out of business in the fifties after too many children went missing in the woods. The bleeds were much worse then and creatures came through more often.” She paused. “The camp shut down and the land sat empty for years.”
“Until the pack bought it,” Sarah chimed in. “We turned it into our base of operations. Partly to make sure no one else tried to set up shop here. No more kids wandering into the woods and vanishing.”
Emma nodded. “Yes. But then the mundane folks built the ski lodge about five years later and the town sprang up around it, bringing hundreds of innocent humans into the area.”
“But, hey, we tried,” Lacey said sarcastically.
Ice settled in my stomach at Emma’s words. “How many kids went missing before it was shut down?”
Emma’s face went carefully blank. “Too many. We managed to save some of them, but not nearly enough. Even though the pack was larger back then, we still couldn’t be everywhere at the same time. And this is a large area.”