Chapter 11
ELEVEN
Abe
Five Years Later…
There’s a certain kind of peace that only comes after a storm. Not the quiet before, the tense stillness where everything waits on a knife’s edge. No. The after. When the wind fades, the clouds break, and the sunlight finally filters through, soft and golden, like forgiveness.
That’s what my life feels like now.
Peaceful.
I stand on the porch of our house overlooking the trees, coffee mug warm in my hands, early morning light spilling across the yard. The air smells like pine and dew and the lingering sweetness of breakfast waffles.
My wolf stretches lazily inside me, content. He’s always content now that we have our mate and our family.
Our pup is up, he murmurs. She’s loud this morning.
I huff out a laugh. Yeah. She’s loud every morning.
As if on cue, chaos erupts inside the house. The good kind.
Tiny footsteps. High-pitched laughter. Roxie’s voice, warm and patient, even when she tries to sound stern.
“Careful with the syrup!”
Too late, I think as I smell the sweet scent.
I sip my coffee, a smile tugging at my lips as I listen to my family inside and reminisce.
Five years ago, I carried a terrified, drugged, stubborn, brave-as-hell woman out of a nightmare. Today, she’s my wife, my whole world, and the mother of our daughter.
The porch door creaks open, and I don’t even need to look. I’d know her anywhere.
Roxie steps up beside me, sliding easily against my side like we were designed to fit. My arm goes around her waist automatically, pulling her close until our bodies share the same space, the same air, the same steady breath.
My wolf inhales deeply as our mate cuddles closer.
Her scent wraps around me, all warmth, wildflowers, and home.
“Morning,” she murmurs.
“Morning,” I say, pressing a kiss to her temple.
She watches the tree line for a moment, peaceful, a soft smile curving her lips. Her hair is longer now, wavier. Sunshine threads through it where the light hits. She has a few faint laugh lines at the corners of her eyes.
I love every one of them.
“How bad is the syrup damage?” I ask.
She snorts. “We’re at ‘moderate disaster, may require new pajamas.’”
I grin. “So… normal.”
“Very.”
Inside, our daughter, Naomi, squeals with unrestrained delight.
My chest tightens.
Yeah, I still can’t believe I get this.
A family.
A life that isn’t built out of duty or survival or constant vigilance.
Just… love.
We stand there for a minute, comfortable silence stretching between us.
The cult is long gone, disbanded and scattered to places where they can’t hurt anyone again. Night Grove Falls and the pack are flourishing.
So are we.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Roxie teases gently.
“Sorry,” I murmur. “Just… appreciating things.”
Her hand slides over mine, fingers lacing. “Good. You should.”
We watch the trees together as the world wakes slowly.
“We should get back in there,” Roxie sighs.
We turn as the porch door bursts open.
“Daddy!”
A blur of curly dark hair and bright blue eyes launches at me. I bend in time to scoop her up, spinning her once as she shrieks with laughter.
“Good morning, little wolf,” I say, kissing her forehead.
“I’m sticky!” she announces proudly.
“That… tracks.”
Roxie covers her mouth to hide a laugh.
Our girl squirms in my arms, pointedly sniffing the air. “You smell like Mommy.”
“Always,” I say quietly.
She doesn’t understand the mating bond yet—what it means, why my world settles only when Roxie is near—but someday she will.
“Come on,” Roxie says warmly. “Bath time before you glue yourself to the furniture.”
Our daughter gasps. “NO BATH!”
“Yes, bath,” I counter.
Her wolfish little growl is terribly unthreatening. My chest aches from how much I love her.
I set her down, and she sprints back inside, feet pounding across the floor.
Roxie lingers.
Her hand curls into my shirt, tugging me down for a soft kiss. Familiar. Sweet. Still able to stop my heart in my chest.
“I love you,” she whispers.
Every time, every single time, it still hits.
“I love you, too,” I breathe. “More every day.”
Her smile is the calm after the storm.
We head inside together, toward laughter and syrup and bath protests and a thousand tiny moments that make up this life.
And as the door closes behind us, my wolf settles completely.
Ours, he sighs.
Yeah.
Finally.
Always.
Forever.