Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five
Daphne
Aweek had passed since I'd officially agreed to become a pack.
Seven days of adjusting to this new reality, of learning what it meant to belong to four men who looked at me like I'd hung the moon.
Seven days of stolen kisses in the kitchen, of falling asleep in my nest surrounded by their scents, of waking up to texts that made me smile before I'd even had coffee.
I'd gone back to my cabin after that first night, needing the familiar space to process everything that had happened.
The pack hadn't pushed, they'd simply driven me home, helped me inside, and made me promise to call if I needed anything.
Garrett had lingered longest, his kiss at my door leaving me breathless and wanting more.
But even from my cabin, I wasn't alone. Not really.
The group chat had become a constant presence in my life, a steady stream of messages that made me feel connected even when we were apart.
Levi sent memes and random observations.
Micah shared articles he thought I'd find interesting.
Garrett sent pictures of things he was building—a new bookshelf, repairs to the back fence, mysterious projects he refused to explain.
And Oliver... Oliver texted like he was writing letters, long and thoughtful and full of the kind of questions that made me feel truly seen.
They'd also been taking turns stopping by.
Never pushy, never demanding—just present.
Levi had shown up with takeout and stayed to watch terrible reality TV.
Micah had brought books and sat reading quietly while I worked in my garden.
Garrett had fixed the squeaky hinge on my back door that I'd been ignoring for months.
Through it all, Trinity had been silent.
That was the part that worried me. After the scene at the market, after her very public meltdown and the threats she'd screamed for everyone to hear, I'd expected.
.. something. Retaliation. Escalation. The formal challenge Micah had warned me about.
Instead, there had been nothing. No sightings in town, no whispered rumors, no mysterious phone calls or ominous letters.
Just silence.
Sheriff Morrison had called twice to check in, assuring me that Trinity hadn't violated any laws since the confrontation.
She'd apparently left town—"visiting family," according to the few people who'd seen her go.
But something about the way he'd said it made me think he didn't believe it was that simple.
Neither did I.
Trinity wasn't the type to give up. She was the type to regroup, to plan, to wait for the perfect moment to strike.
The silence didn't feel like surrender—it felt like the held breath before a storm.
I couldn't live my life waiting for the other shoe to drop.
That was what I kept telling myself, anyway, as I went through the motions of my routine.
Tending my garden. Preparing for the winter market season.
Learning how to be in a relationship, four relationships, technically, without constantly bracing for impact.
It was harder than I'd expected.
Not the pack part, that was surprisingly easy, natural in a way I hadn't anticipated. The hard part was my own brain, the constant whisper of doubt that told me this couldn't last, that something would go wrong, that I didn't deserve this much happiness.
Trinity's voice had taken up residence in my head, echoing the worst thoughts I'd ever had about myself. Greedy. Desperate. Nobody ever wanted you.
I was working on silencing it. Some days were better than others.
Today was a good day. The morning had dawned clear and cool, perfect autumn weather that made me want to spend every moment outside.
I'd harvested the last of my late tomatoes, pulled up the spent plants, and started preparing the beds for winter.
Physical work that kept my hands busy and my mind quiet.
My phone buzzed around noon.
Oliver: Can you come to the house this afternoon? There's something I want to show you.
I smiled at the screen, brushing dirt from my fingers before typing back.
Daphne: Mysterious. Should I be worried?
Oliver: The opposite. Trust me?
Daphne: Always.
The word came easily now, and I marveled at how much had changed in such a short time. A month ago, trust had been a foreign concept, something other people had the luxury of giving freely. Now I was texting it to a man I loved without a second though.
Time went by quickly and now it was the afternoon. Oliver was waiting for me on the porch when I pulled up, a barely contained excitement visible in the way he bounced slightly on his heels. It was so unlike his usual composed demeanor that I found myself grinning as I climbed out of the truck.
"You look like Levi right now," I teased, and he laughed.
"Don't tell him that. He'll be insufferable." He came down the steps to meet me, pressing a kiss to my forehead before taking my hand. "Come on. It's around back."
"What is?" I asked, curiously bubbling in me.
"You'll see." He led me around the house, past the garden where I'd worked with Garrett and Micah, past the back porch where we'd had dinner that first night. The property stretched out behind the house, open land giving way to a small grove of trees, and beyond that—
"Close your eyes," Oliver told me, giving me a small smile.
I raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"
"Please?" His blue eyes were bright with anticipation. "I want it to be a surprise."
I sighed, but I was smiling. "Fine. But if I trip—"
"I've got you," he promised, his hand warm and steady on my lower back. "I'll always have you."
I closed my eyes and let him guide me forward.
The ground changed beneath my feet—grass to gravel to something softer, freshly turned earth.
The air smelled like autumn and growing things and something else, something sharp and new.
I could hear birds in the trees, the distant sound of wind chimes, and.
.. was that Levi's voice, quickly shushed?
"Okay," Oliver said, his breath warm against my ear. "You can look."
I opened my eyes.
And forgot how to breathe.
A greenhouse stood before me, not the skeleton I'd glimpsed on my first visit to the property, but a completed structure, its glass panels catching the afternoon light like captured pieces of sky.
It was larger than I'd expected, maybe twenty feet long and fifteen wide, with an arched roof that reminded me of old Victorian conservatories.
The metal frame was painted a deep forest green, almost black, elegant against the weathered wood of the raised beds that surrounded it.
Standing in front of it, grinning like idiots, were Garrett, Levi, and Micah.
"Surprise!" Levi burst out, apparently unable to contain himself any longer. "Do you like it? Please say you like it. We've been working on it for months."
"Months," I repeated, my voice strange and distant to my own ears. "You've been building this for months?"
"Since before we officially met you," Garrett admitted, ducking his head in that shy way he had. "We started it as a pack project, but then... well." He glanced at Oliver. "It became something else."
"It became yours," Micah clarified. "If you want it."
Mine. A greenhouse, built by the hands of the four men who had somehow become my world. A structure that had started as a general project and transformed into a gift for me specifically—before they even knew if I would accept them, before I had let myself believe I could have this.
The tears came without warning.
"Oh god, she's crying," Levi said, sounding panicked. "Is that good crying or bad crying? I can never tell."
"Good crying," I managed, laughing through the tears. "Definitely good crying."
Oliver's arm came around my shoulders, pulling me into his side.
"Garrett did most of the construction. The frame, the glass work, the raised beds outside.
Micah handled the technical aspects, climate control, irrigation, optimal light angles.
Levi helped wherever we needed him and kept the whole thing secret, which was honestly the hardest part. "
"I am terrible at secrets," Levi confirmed cheerfully. "I almost told you like six times."
"He really did," Micah said dryly. "We had to physically remove him from the room on more than one occasion."
I wiped my eyes, still not quite believing what I was seeing. "Can I... can I go inside?"
"It's yours," Garrett said softly. "You can do whatever you want." The door was beautiful—simple wood and glass with a handle shaped like a curving vine. I touched it gently, reverently, before pushing it open and stepping inside.
The interior was even more beautiful than I'd imagined.
Slate tile floors, warm gray with flecks of green, perfectly practical for water and dirt and the mess of real gardening.
Wooden shelving along both walls, sturdy and deep, adjustable to accommodate plants of any size.
A long central table at waist height, topped with a smooth, water-resistant surface ideal for potting and propagating.
And at the far end, a cushioned bench built into a bay window that looked out over the property, positioned to catch both morning and afternoon light.
A place to rest. A place to sit and watch things grow.
"The irrigation system's automated," Micah said, appearing at my elbow to show me a discrete panel near the door. "You can set schedules for individual sections, adjust humidity levels, monitor temperature remotely from your phone. I can walk you through the interface whenever you're ready."
"The heating's solar-assisted," Garrett added from the doorway, where he stood with his arms crossed, watching me explore with a soft expression. "Won't cost much to run through winter. And the glass is double-paned for insulation."