14. Remy
Chapter 14
Remy
I scrubbed at the counter, muttering under my breath as the cloth squeaked against the surface.
The stain refused to budge, no matter how much elbow grease I threw at it.
"Stupid thing," I grumbled, jabbing the cloth harder as if sheer determination could erase years of wear and tear.
A faint, unpleasant odor wafted in from the bathroom, breaking my focus. I wrinkled my nose, setting the cloth down with a sigh.
No matter how many times I scrubbed that damn place, the smell clung like a stubborn shadow.
Giving up—for now—I grabbed a packet of citrus-scented candles and lit one. The sharp scent of lemon and orange quickly cut through the stale air, masking it—at least for a while.
I glanced around the apartment, taking in the mismatched furniture, the scuffed floor, and the cracked paint on the walls.
It wasn’t much. But for the first time in my life, I had something I could call my own.
Settling in Pecan Pines had felt inevitable ever since the pack run.
It wasn’t just about managing the shift—though that was a triumph in itself. For the first time, I’d pushed my body to listen, and it had. The pain was still there, sharp and unforgiving, but I’d ignored it. Because in that moment, I wasn’t just struggling. I was succeeding.
During the run, surrounded by the wolves of the Pecan Pines pack, something had clicked. It wasn’t like Thornebane, where I’d always felt like an outsider, trailing behind a pack that didn’t want me.
Here, it was different. The pack’s bond had a warmth I’d never known before—a quiet hum of acceptance that felt fragile, like it could slip away if I reached for it.
But it was there. And for the first time, I let myself wonder if it could truly be mine.
And then there was Colton. My wolf had known it before I could truly believe it myself. He was my mate.
Staying in Pecan Pines wasn’t just a choice. It was a necessity.
Finding a place of my own, though? That had been a whole other challenge.
With my limited budget and a handful of apartments that looked like they belonged in a horror movie, my options were pretty slim.
I’d told Colton about my plans while we were both working one night—something I regretted the second the words left my mouth.
He’d been pulling a rack of ribs out of the smoker when I casually mentioned I was apartment hunting.
The tray clattered to the ground. Ribs scattered across the kitchen floor. We lost half the orders for the night, and I earned a glare from Jesse that could’ve melted steel.
Colton had recovered quickly, though, flashing me that easy grin of his and offering me a place at his home.
When I refused—because it felt like too much, too soon—he suggested I consider a spot in the pack lands.
I hesitated, my throat tight with words I couldn’t bring myself to say. Admitting it to myself was harder than I’d expected.
I wasn’t ready to be part of the pack, not officially, not yet. I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe they wouldn’t want me, that I didn’t belong.
The thought churned in my chest, a mix of longing and fear. I wanted to fit in, but I wasn’t sure I ever could.
No, this apartment was where I needed to be.
I inhaled deeply, wincing as the faint smell of the bathroom mingled with the citrus. For the first time in a long while, I felt something stir in my chest—pride, however small.
This place wasn’t much, but it was mine. And for the first time in my life, I could say it was home.
Before I could fully enjoy the moment, a knock at the door pulled me away. I wiped my hands on a dish towel and made my way over, heart skipping when I caught a familiar scent before opening the door.
Colton stood there, grinning with two heavy bags of groceries in his arms.
“Housewarming gift,” he announced, stepping forward like he was already invited.
I raised an eyebrow, blocking his path. “Groceries?”
He sighed dramatically and pulled out a smaller bag with the Brigg’s Barbecue logo emblazoned on the side. “And some of your favorites from the restaurant.”
That earned him a laugh. “Now, that’s a proper housewarming gift.” I stepped aside, letting him in.
Colton headed straight to the kitchen counter, methodically unloading the bags.
He lined up vegetables, pantry staples, and a few ready-made meals in neat rows, the efficiency almost comical given the size of my kitchen.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” I said, watching him with a mix of gratitude and exasperation. “I could’ve managed.”
“Yeah, well, now you don’t have to,” he replied with a shrug, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Want a tour?” I asked, gesturing vaguely.
He paused, looking around the space, clearly puzzled, then nodded. “Sure?”
I led him away from the counter, taking exactly three steps before pointing to the corner of the room. “This is the living room.”
He raised a brow at the worn-out couch and small coffee table.
Two more steps brought us to my bedroom door. I gestured again. “And that’s the bedroom.”
Colton blinked, his lips twitching as he fought a smile. “Was a tour really necessary?”
I nudged his elbow with mine, rolling my eyes. “Hey, it’s a thorough tour.”
“It’s a great place,” he said softly, the humor giving way to something warmer.
“Thanks,” I murmured, glancing around, my chest swelling with a faint sense of pride.
I cleared my throat, shoving my hands into my pockets. “Really, though... thanks for everything. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.”
Colton turned to me, his smile gentle and steady. “You would’ve done it, Remy. Even if it wasn’t here in Pecan Pines, I know you would’ve made it work. You’ve got it in you to settle anywhere, to make a life for yourself.”
I held his gaze, his words stirring something deep inside me. I wasn’t sure I believed him entirely, but maybe he was right.
“Still,” I said, my voice rough, “I appreciate it.”
“Anytime,” he replied, his grin widening into that easy, infectious smile of his.
Colton leaned back against the armrest of my well-worn couch, his gaze roaming around the room again.
“You’ve got a real cozy spot here,” he said, his tone light but sincere.
I snorted, dropping onto the cushion beside him. “Cozy’s just a nice way of saying small.”
He chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “I wouldn’t say small. Intimate, maybe.”
“Intimate?” I raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You mean cramped?”
He gave me a look, half-amused. “I’m just saying, it’s got character. Charm.”
I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t stop a smile from creeping onto my face.
“So,” he said, leaning slightly closer, “what’s next on the tour?”
“Tour’s over,” I replied. “You’ve seen it all.”
“Shame,” he said, his grin tilting into something more mischievous. “I was kind of enjoying the guide’s company.”
That did it. Without thinking, I grabbed the collar of his shirt, catching the playful curve of his mouth in a kiss.
Colton responded instantly, his lips warm and eager. It wasn’t long before the kiss deepened, his hand sliding up to cup the back of my neck.
My fingers found the hem of his shirt, tugging him closer as though any space between us was too much.
He pulled back just enough to murmur, “This would probably be better in bed.”
I laughed, the sound shaky and breathless as my pulse pounded in my ears. “It’s a short trip. I think you can manage.”
He groaned at the reminder, shaking his head, but he stood anyway, pulling me up with him. His hands stayed on me as we stumbled toward the bedroom.
The next few minutes were a blur of lips, hands, and heated whispers. My fingers worked to free him from his shirt, and when it hit the floor, I couldn’t help but admire the contours of his shoulders, the lines of his chest.
But it was the nape of his neck that held my attention. I didn’t realize I was kissing and nipping at that spot until I felt him shiver beneath me.
“Remy,” he murmured, his voice thick and breathless.
I didn’t answer, letting my teeth graze the skin there. His low groan sent heat pooling in my stomach.
“Wait,” he said softly, his hands settling on my shoulders. There was an edge of seriousness in his tone that made me pause. “Are you sure about this? About... everything?”
The weight of his question settled between us, but the answer was already there, thrumming through my veins.
I met his gaze and nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
His lips trailed over my jaw, slow and deliberate, before finding the curve of my neck. Each soft kiss sent a shiver down my spine, my wolf stirring in response.
By the time his teeth grazed the sensitive skin at the base of my neck, my breath hitched. When he bit down, sharp but controlled, a rush of warmth and energy surged through me.
I tensed instinctively, the ache of the mark burning briefly before it shifted into something deeper—something undeniable. Colton's hand stroked down my back, grounding me.
“You’re okay,” he murmured.
Without hesitation, I did the same, my wolf surging forward to meet his. The moment I marked him, the bond began to settle between us, a tether I could feel in every corner of my being.
A whimper escaped me as the ache of the mark faded. His lips brushed over my temple, soft and reassuring, as our wolves intertwined fully, merging in a way that was beyond words.
When it was over, I rested my forehead against his shoulder, my breath still uneven.
“I didn’t know it would feel like that,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Like what?” he asked, his hand still trailing comfortingly along my back.
“Like... I’m finally complete,” I said.
Colton pressed a kiss to my temple, his hold unwavering. “You always were,” he murmured. “I’m just lucky to be part of it.”
* * *
Jesse stacked a pile of menus on the hostess stand, aligning the edges with careful precision. He glanced over his shoulder at me, one eyebrow raised. “So, the housewarming party’s coming up. What do you want as a gift?”
I shrugged, scrubbing at the base of a chair. “Maybe some cutlery?”
Jesse's lips twitched. “Cutlery, huh? What, like some fancy silverware?”
I huffed out a laugh, but my thoughts drifted back to the previous night. Dinner with Colton—eaten with our hands because I didn’t have anything else.
It wasn’t the worst thing; after all, it led to... well, other things. But the morning after was less fun—food stains on my brand-new sheets.
Maybe not silverware, but I sure could’ve used some proper cutlery.
The sound of a sharp rap on the front window pulled me from my thoughts.
Jesse straightened, peering over my shoulder. “Seriously? Can’t he read the sign? We’re not open yet.”
I turned to look and froze. Carter stood on the other side of the glass.
“What the hell is he doing here?” I muttered under my breath.
Jesse nudged me with his elbow. “You know him?”
I forced a nervous laugh. “No idea who that is. I’ll, uh, go tell him we’re not open yet.”
Jesse raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it, but he didn’t press.
I stepped outside, closing the door firmly behind me. The cool air hit my skin, but it didn’t do much to quiet the knot of emotions tightening in my chest.
Why was he here? And why now? I regretted telling Carter where I worked, even if it was supposed to be a polite farewell gesture.
“What are you doing here?” The words came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t try to soften them.
Carter frowned, his broad shoulders stiffening slightly. I had to remind myself—he was still every bit the lead alpha: strong, imposing, used to deference. But he wasn’t my alpha anymore.
I crossed my arms, refusing to back down.
His expression shifted, softening, and his gaze flicked past me to the restaurant window.
My stomach twisted as I followed his line of sight, spotting Jesse quickly turning away from the glass. Had he been watching? Could he hear what I’d said earlier?
“Can we talk somewhere else?” Carter’s voice broke the moment, low and calm.
The unexpected request caught me off guard, but I felt a small weight lift off me.
“Yeah,” I said quickly, maybe too quickly. Anything to get him away from here.
Carter gestured toward his truck. “Can we go for a drive? No one knows I’m here. Came without an invitation.”
That made sense. Lead alphas didn’t usually wander into another pack’s territory unannounced.
In Pecan Pines, the rules were stricter—no pack business was allowed within the borders, a holdover from the town’s troubled past.
I hesitated, glancing over my shoulder. No one else had spotted us yet, but it wouldn’t take much.
Every wolf in Pecan Pines had been at the summit. Someone was bound to recognize Carter eventually. I was surprised Jesse hadn’t already.
My stomach knotted, my thoughts spiraling. If people saw me talking to Carter, it could stir up questions I wasn’t ready to answer.
I’d worked hard to bury my past in Thornebane. I wasn’t officially part of the Pecan Pines pack yet, and the last thing I needed was anyone thinking I’d bring trouble by associating with another pack’s lead alpha.
“Fine,” I said, my voice tight. “Let’s go.”
The ride was quiet, almost painfully so. I picked at a loose thread on my jeans, my fingers restless.
Once we crossed the town line, I said, “Stop here.”
Carter glanced at me, his brow furrowing slightly, but he pulled off to the side of the road.
Relief hit me when the truck finally stopped, and I yanked the door open. The air outside was cooler, but it did little to ease the anxiety twisting in my chest.
I crossed my arms and waited for Carter, but instead, he headed to the back of the truck and opened the trunk.
Soon, he returned with a medium-sized box in hand. He set it on the hood with a metallic thud that broke the silence.
“What’s this?” I asked, eyeing the box warily.
“Some of your things.” Carter’s tone was steady, and he glanced at me for a moment before returning his focus to the box.
“Figured you probably have the essentials by now, but I thought there might be stuff here you’d want. Photos, clothes, things you left behind. Since you told me you’re officially leaving the pack...” He paused, looking down briefly, then back at me. “Didn’t think you’d agree to meet, so I brought it here. Maybe I should’ve given you a heads-up.”
I didn’t say anything, stepping closer to peer into the box. Most of it was unimportant—shirts I didn’t even like, an old mug—but then my hand brushed against a stack of photographs.
I flipped through them, my throat tightening. Family pictures. Ones I didn’t even realize I’d left behind.
“Thanks,” I said, my voice quiet.
Carter nodded, leaning against the truck. “I’m happy you’ve found a good life here. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you back in Thornebane.”
The sincerity in his voice surprised me, but I kept my composure. Instead, I kept my arms crossed, the box still sitting between us.
“If there’s anything else you need,” Carter continued, “just let me know. You can come by and take a look. Or, if you prefer, I can just bring it over.”
I shook my head. “No need. Everything I need is here.”
Everything I needed was here—in Pecan Pines. With Colton. With the life I was finally starting to build for myself. The rest didn’t matter.