Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Oliver
The greenhouse was coming along.
I stood in the skeleton of it, surrounded by the bones of what would become something beautiful—steel frames arching overhead like the ribs of some great sleeping beast, glass panels stacked and waiting along the eastern wall, the concrete foundation still curing in the late morning sun.
The air smelled like fresh cement and cut metal, with an undertone of the wild honeysuckle that grew along the property's edge.
A week….Then it would be finished, and I could show her.
I ran my hand along one of the support beams, feeling the cool steel beneath my palm.
We'd designed it together, the pack and I—though "together" mostly meant me obsessing over blueprints at 2 AM while the others offered occasional input and reminded me to sleep.
Garrett had helped with the structural planning, his construction expertise invaluable.
Micah had calculated the optimal angle for the roof panels to maximize light exposure throughout the seasons.
Levi had contributed exactly one suggestion "make it big enough for a hammock" before wandering off to raid the refrigerator.
But the vision was mine. The dream of what this space could become, what it could mean, who it was for.
Daphne.
Everything, lately, was for Daphne. I pulled out my phone and checked for messages—a habit I'd developed over the past few weeks, a compulsion I couldn't seem to break.
Nothing new since this morning, when she'd sent a brief reply to my check-in text.
I slept a little. Thank you for checking. Polite. Warm. Giving nothing away.
She'd been quieter than usual since the pottery date.
Since Levi had kissed her and come home floating three feet off the ground, grinning like an idiot, unable to stop talking about the way she'd tasted like wine and possibility.
I was happy for him, for them, truly. This was how it was supposed to work.
Each of us getting to know her, building something individual before it became something shared.
But there was a part of me, a selfish part I wasn't proud of, that ached with the waiting. That wanted to be the one making her laugh, making her blush, making her look at me the way Levi described her looking at him.
Patience. I'd built my whole life on patience. I could manage a little more.
"You're brooding again." I turned to find Garrett leaning against the greenhouse doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, sawdust still clinging to his flannel shirt from whatever project he'd been working on in his workshop.
His eyes held that knowing look he got sometimes, the one that said he could see right through whatever mask I was wearing.
"I'm not brooding. I'm thinking." I told him, but I knew he would see through me. They all could.
"You're standing alone in an unfinished building, staring at your phone, with that crease between your eyebrows that means you're overthinking something.
That's brooding." He pushed off the frame and crossed to stand beside me, surveying the construction with an appraising eye.
"It's looking good, though. The frame's solid.
Should be ready for glass by next week if the weather holds. "
"That's the plan." I sighed, trying to push my anxiousness down.
"She's going to love it, you know." Garrett's voice softened. "The greenhouse. Everything we're doing. She's going to love it."
"If she lets herself." The words came out before I could stop them, heavy with the worry I'd been carrying for days. "She's pulling back, Garrett. Can't you feel it? Something shifted after Sunday. After she came to the house."
Garrett was quiet for a moment, considering. "Levi said the pottery date went well. Better than well. He said she kissed him back like she meant it."
"I know. But that was Monday. It's Wednesday now, and she's been.
.. careful. Distant. Her texts are shorter.
She hasn't agreed to another date with any of us.
" I shoved my phone back in my pocket, frustrated with myself for checking it again.
"I think we scared her. Or she scared herself. Either way, she's retreating."
"Or she's processing." Garrett laid a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm and grounding. "She's not like us, Oliver. She didn't grow up with a pack. She doesn't know how this works, how fast feelings can develop, how intense it can get. Give her time to catch up."
He was right. I knew he was right. Knowing something and feeling it were different things entirely, and right now my alpha instincts were screaming at me to fix it, to chase, to prove myself worthy of her in some tangible way.
The greenhouse was supposed to be that proof.
A gift. An offering. A physical manifestation of everything I wanted to give her but didn't have words for.
I will build you a place to grow things. I will give you roots. I will make you a home.
"Pack meeting tonight," I said, forcing my mind back to practical matters. "After dinner. We need to talk about the courting, the timeline, and..." I hesitated. "Trinity."
Garrett's expression darkened at the name. "Morrison called?"
"This morning. She's been asking around town about Daphne. Her property, her schedule, who she talks to. Playing it casual, like she's just making conversation, but he's not buying it."
"Neither am I." A muscle ticked in Garrett's jaw. "What's his read on the situation?"
"Escalation. Classic stalking pattern, he said. First the verbal confrontations, then the information gathering. He's worried about what comes next."
"We all are." Garrett's hand tightened on my shoulder before dropping away. "What do we do about it? Tell Daphne?"
The question had been eating at me since Morrison's call.
She deserved to know. She had every right to know.
Telling her meant watching that light in her eyes, the one that had been growing brighter every day, dim with fear.
It meant giving her a reason to pull back even further, to retreat behind walls we'd only just begun to breach.
"Not yet," I decided, hating myself a little for it.
"Not until we have something concrete. Right now it's just..
. suspicion. Patterns. Morrison's keeping an eye on her, and so are we.
If anything changes, if there's any real threat, we tell Daphne immediately.
But I won't put that weight on her unless I have to. "
"And if she finds out we kept it from her?" He asked, glancing at me.
"Then I'll take responsibility. This is my call." I met his eyes, letting him see the resolve beneath the uncertainty. "She's finally starting to trust us. Finally starting to let herself hope. I won't be the one who destroys that. Not without cause."
Garrett studied me for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Alright. Your call. But we tell the others tonight. Make sure everyone's on the same page."
"Agreed." He turned to go, then paused at the doorway, looking back over his shoulder. "For what it's worth, Oliver? I think you're making the right call. She's been through enough. She deserves a little more peace before the storm."
I hoped he was right. I hoped there wouldn't be a storm at all, that Trinity would lose interest, move on, find some other obsession to occupy her twisted mind.
But hope wasn't a strategy. And I hadn't gotten where I was by leaving things to chance.
The pack meeting convened at eight, after a dinner of leftover chili that Garrett had somehow turned into a passable soup.
We gathered in the living room, me in the armchair I always claimed, Garrett on the floor with his back against the couch, Levi sprawled across one end of the sectional, Micah perched on the other with his ever-present notebook.
The fire crackled in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the walls. Outside, the wind had picked up, rattling the windows with the promise of autumn storms to come. It was a good night to be inside. A good night for difficult conversations.
"Alright," I said, once everyone was settled. "Let's start with the courting. Where do we stand?"
Levi sat up straighter, unable to keep the grin off his face. "I mean, you all know where I stand. Monday was..." He made a chef's kiss gesture. "Incredible. She's incredible. The kiss was—"
"We know," Garrett interrupted dryly. "You've told us. Seventeen times."
"Eighteen. And I'll tell you again if you want. The way she—" He was cut off by one of the other guys.
"Moving on," I said, though I couldn't quite suppress my own smile. Levi's joy was infectious, even when it made the waiting harder.
"She's pulling back," I confirmed. "I've noticed it too. The question is why, and what we do about it."
"We give her space," Garrett said firmly. "We don't push. We let her come to us."
"Agreed. But we also don't disappear." I leaned forward, elbows on my knees. "She's been alone for five years. She's used to people leaving. If we back off too much, she might read it as rejection. We have to find the balance—present but not pressuring. Available but not overwhelming."
"So... exactly what we've been doing," Levi said. "Just more of it?"
"More conscious of it. More intentional." I glanced at Micah. “Small gestures. Low pressure. Let her set the pace." I sat back, satisfied with the plan but not quite finished. "Now. The other matter. Trinity."
The mood in the room shifted instantly, the warmth of the fire seeming to dim as the name hung in the air. Levi's grin faded. Garrett's jaw tightened. Even Micah looked up from his notebook, his eyes sharp and alert.
"Morrison called me this morning," I continued. "She's been making inquiries around town. Asking about Daphne's property, her routines, her connections. Trying to map out her life."
"Information gathering," Micah said quietly. "Pre-attack surveillance."
"Yeah, that's Morrison's concern. He's seen this pattern before. Verbal confrontation, then research, then escalation to something more... direct." I said sighing as I ran a hand through my hair in irritation.
"We should tell Daphne." Levi's voice was tight. "She has a right to know someone's—"
"I've decided to wait," I cut in. "Unless something concrete happens.
Right now it's just suspicion. Patterns.
If we tell her now, we put fear into her life that might not be warranted.
We make her look over her shoulder everywhere she goes.
We give her a reason to pull away from us—and from the town, the community, everything she's been building. "
"And if something happens while we're waiting?" Levi demanded. "If Trinity makes a move and Daphne's unprepared?"
"She won't be unprepared. Morrison's watching Trinity.
We're watching the property. If anything changes, anything at all, we tell Daphne immediately and we deal with it together.
" I held Levi's gaze, understanding his fear because I shared it.
"I'm not being cavalier with her safety.
I'm trying to protect more than just her body.
I'm trying to protect her peace. Her hope.
The progress she's made in letting herself trust again. "
The room was quiet for a long moment. The fire popped and crackled. Wind rattled the windows.
"I don't like it," Levi said finally. "But I understand it. And I trust you."
"Same," Garrett added. "Your call, Oliver. We follow your lead."
Micah nodded once, short and sharp. Agreement without words.
Something loosened in my chest—the tension I hadn't realized I was carrying, the fear that my pack would challenge a decision that was already eating at me.
They trusted me. They followed me. Even when the path was unclear, even when the choices were impossible, they believed I would lead them true.
I couldn't let them down. Couldn't let her down. The silence stretched, filled with the weight of unspoken words.
"I love her," I said quietly. "I think I've loved her since the first time I saw her at the market, looking so fierce and so fragile all at once. I didn't know it then, didn't have a name for it, but looking back, I can see it was already there. “
"Oliver..." Levi started, but I held up a hand.
"I'm not saying this to stake a claim. I'm saying it because you should know where I stand.
Because we're a pack, and we don't keep things from each other.
" I looked at each of them in turn, Garrett's steady gaze, Micah's analytical attention, Levi's barely contained emotion.
"I love her. And I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe, to make her happy, to give her the home she's never had.”
Then Garrett spoke, his voice rough. "I love her. Didn't think I would—didn't think I could, not this fast. But watching her, seeing who she is underneath all that armor... yeah. I love her."
"Same," Levi said, and there was no joke in it, no deflection. Just raw honesty. "I tried to tell myself it was just attraction, just chemistry. But it's more than that. So much more."
All eyes turned to Micah. He was silent for a long moment, his pen tapping against his notebook in an irregular rhythm.
"I don't..." He stopped. Started again. "Emotions aren't my strong suit.
You all know that. I analyze, I observe, I quantify.
Love isn't something I know how to measure.
" Another pause, longer this time. "But when I think about a future without her in it, I feel.
.. hollow. Empty. Like an equation with a missing variable, unsolvable and incomplete.
If that's love, then yes. I love her too. "
Something settled in the room. Some final piece clicking into place, some unspoken agreement made real. We were a pack. We loved the same woman. We would face whatever came next together.
"Then we're agreed," I said. "We protect her. We give her every reason to choose us, and we make sure she's safe to make that choice." I stood, signaling the end of the meeting.
I walked to the window and looked out into the darkness.
Somewhere out there, Daphne was in her cabin, surrounded by her plants and her solitude and her fears.
Somewhere else, Trinity was watching, waiting, planning something I couldn't predict…
Here I stood, in the house we'd built, with the men I'd chosen, loving a woman who might not be ready to be loved.