Chapter 20
20
EMMA
I ’m back in my shorts and t-shirt, the memory of our perfect morning at the river feeling like a lifetime ago as I pace the length of the watchtower.
The wooden floorboards creak under my restless steps, and I can’t stop wringing my hands despite knowing it betrays every anxious thought spiraling through my mind.
Atlas is outside on the balcony when the grunt of a vehicle sounds from down below.
In no time, Levi and River join us, and with Atlas, they all move indoors with me.
“Sit down, sweet thing,” Levi says softly, gesturing to the chair I’ve claimed as my writing throne.
“I don’t want to sit down.” The words tumble out sharper than I intended, edged with panic.
“Just tell me. How bad is everything?”
River runs a hand through his golden hair, leaving it even more tousled than usual.
“It’s... complicated. ”
“The fire was definitely started by a candle,” Levi begins.
“The burn patterns, the point of origin, everything confirms it, including part of the candle remnants.”
My knees nearly buckle, and I have to grab the edge of my desk to stay upright.
“I knew it. I fucking knew it was my fault.”
“Emma, wait—” Atlas starts, but I’m already drowning.
“God, I’m such an idiot. I should have checked it twice, three times. I should have never lit the damn thing in the first place. Now some poor man’s property is destroyed, and I’m going to lose everything I’ve worked for, and?—”
“Stop.” River’s voice cuts through my spiral like a blade.
“Just stop for a second and listen to what we’re actually telling you.”
Something in his tone, urgent but not panicked, penetrates the fog of my anxiety.
I press my lips together, wrapping my arms tighter around myself like I can physically hold the pieces together.
“We found the candle,” Levi continues, opening the folder with deliberate care.
“But there’s something very strange about where it was located.”
He pulls out his phone, clicks it a few times, then hands it to me with a photo.
My hands shake as I accept the phone.
It takes me a moment to make sense of what I’m seeing, the charred remains of what used to be the cabin’s blackened fireplace beams and ash-covered debris creating a hellscape of destruction.
“I don’t understand what I’m looking at,” I admit, squinting at the image.
“Look closer,” River says, moving to stand behind my chair.
His hand settles on my shoulder.
“See that area under what used to be the far wall?”
I follow his pointing finger to a section of the photo where fallen timber has created a sort of cave.
Nestled in the shadows, almost hidden from view, is a partially melted glass jar surrounded by debris.
Atlas is studying it over my shoulder, too.
“That’s the candle,” Levi explains quietly.
“Or what’s left of it.”
“But that’s...” I frown, trying to reconcile what I’m seeing with my crystal-clear memory of that night.
“That’s not where I put it when I had it lit.”
“Where should it have been?” Atlas asks.
I close my eyes, forcing myself to relive those final moments in the cabin.
“On the coffee table. Right in the center, on one of those little wooden coasters shaped like leaves. I remember being so careful about it, worried about wax dripping onto the wood.”
“The coffee table was on the complete opposite side of the room,” River says quietly.
“Nowhere near where we found the candle.”
My eyes snap open, and the world tilts sideways.
“What are you saying?”
“We’re saying the candle didn’t start the fire from where you left it,” Levi explains, reaching over to the phone still in my hand and flicking to the next image.
“Someone moved it.”
“But who would... why would...” The words come out as barely a whisper.
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Atlas says.
I glance down at the photo, and this one is a close-up of the melted candle jar.
The glass has partially fused with whatever surface it was sitting on.
“But there’s something else,” Levi continues.
“Something that doesn’t make any sense.”
I study the image, noting how the heat has warped everything beyond recognition.
“What am I supposed to be seeing?”
“Look at what’s underneath it,” River says.
I squint at the photo, holding it closer to my face.
There’s definitely something beneath the melted remains of the candle—fabric, by the look of it.
The fire has partially fused it to the glass and whatever surface it was sitting on.
“Is that...” I start to ask, but Levi is already reaching for his laptop.
“We managed to get a clearer shot before the investigators moved everything,” he says, flicking to the next image on the phone.
Even charred and partially melted, the pattern is unmistakable—tiny gold moths swirling through inky blue fabric, their delicate wings caught mid-flight.
“That pattern looks familiar?” I whisper, staring at the screen in growing confusion.
“Where?” Levi asks.
I shake my head, studying every detail of the design.
“I’ve never owned anything with that pattern, but I’ve seen it before. Those moths, that specific shade of blue…”
“Could it have been something that was already in the cabin?” River suggests.
“Maybe curtains or a throw pillow?”
“The investigators would have documented everything that belonged to the property owner,” Levi says, scrolling through his notes with methodical precision.
“This fabric isn’t listed in their inventory.”
“So, if you didn’t leave the candle there, someone else was in the cabin,” Atlas says, his voice going hard and dangerous.
“Someone who moved Emma’s candle.”
I sink into my chair, my legs suddenly unable to support me.
“You think someone did this on purpose? You think someone actually wanted to frame me?” I keep studying the screen, at those golden moths frozen in their final dance, and suddenly the memory flares over me.
“Oh my God,” I breathe, my hand flying to my throat.
“Emma?” Atlas straightens immediately, his Alpha senses picking up on my distress.
“What is it?”
“I know where I’ve seen that pattern before.” My voice comes out hoarse, shocked.
“It was Megan Sloane. Chad’s new girlfriend. She was wearing a scarf with that exact design when I bumped into her at the grocery store.”
The silence that follows is deafening.
My heartbeat thumps in my ears .
“When did you last see her?” River finally asks.
“At the grocery store.” I’m already pulling out my phone from my pocket, my fingers trembling as I navigate to her social media profiles.
“She was wearing it on the day I checked into the cabin. A silk scarf around her neck. I remember thinking it was beautiful, even though I hated her guts.”
I find her Instagram and hold up my phone, showing them a photo from just two weeks ago.
There she is, dark brown hair, perfectly made up, wearing that same scarf with the gold moths dancing across blue silk.
“This is her,” I say, my voice gaining strength as the pieces start falling into place.
“But why would part of her scarf be in that cabin?”
Atlas leans forward, studying the photo intently.
“Do you have any other information about her?”
“Megan’s from Moonshell Bay. She works at the Tideline Tribune, sent here to cover the Summer Festival.” The memory tastes bitter in my mouth.
River suddenly goes very still, his eyes widening with recognition.
“Wait. Hold on.”
He pulls out his own phone, scrolling through what looks like photos then pauses.
“Holy shit. Guys, look at this.”
He shows us a picture that makes my blood run cold.
It’s clearly taken at the burned cabin, showing the crime scene tape and investigative equipment.
But in the front yard is a figure, Megan, seeming to search for something on the ground.
“That’s the woman who was snooping around the crime scene the other day, and was in the restaurant with Chad,” River states.
“She claimed to have just lost something on the grounds when I questioned her, but something felt off. I thought nothing more of it at the time. There are weirdos everywhere.”
“She was there as well?” I stare at the photo.
“Gets better,” Atlas says grimly, pulling out his own phone, staring at River.
“I got a message this morning from my contact about that sedan, the one you saw her leaving with at the scene.” He reads the email.
“Rental vehicle, hired three days ago by one Megan Sloane of Moonshell Bay. Still on rental for a couple more days.”
The world stops spinning.
Everything goes silent except for the rushing of blood in my ears.
“She broke in,” I whisper, the words feeling foreign on my tongue.
“She actually broke into the cabin and tried to... tried to… What was she doing? To start a fire and kill me?” My stomach churns with nausea and fear.
“Am I still going to get sued? Even with this evidence?”
Before anyone can answer, my Alphas approach.
Atlas crouches in front of my chair, his hands settling on my knees with gentle firmness.
River moves to stand behind me, both hands on my shoulders now.
Levi settles on the arm of my chair, close enough that I can feel his warmth.
“We’re going to find out the truth. And now we know it has something to do with Megan, the fire is connected to her.
“River,” he continues without taking his eyes off me, “call the police station. Get the investigating cop on the line and tell him about our discovery.”
“On it,” River says, already dialing.
Levi’s hand finds my back, rubbing slow, soothing circles.
“It’s going to be okay,” he murmurs.
“You see? We have contacts, legal resources, and we’re going to fight this every step of the way. You have us in your corner now.”
The gentle certainty breaks something loose in my chest, and tears burn behind my eyes.
My whole body is shaking, the full magnitude of what we’ve discovered crashing into me like a freight train.
I stumble to my feet, needing to move, needing to do something with the adrenaline coursing through my system.
But my legs are unsteady, and I barely make it to the small couch before collapsing.
Atlas and Levi follow, flanking me on either side like bookends.
I curl up between them, pulling my legs against my chest in a defensive ball.
“If she really did this, if she actually framed me...”
“Hey.” Levi’s arm comes around me, pulling me against his side.
“This sort of thing happens more often than you’d think, especially in our line of work. We’ve been sued multiple times—occupational hazard of being first responders. Our lawyers have won every single case.”
“But this is different,” I protest, even as I let myself sink into his warmth.
“This is criminal. This is someone deliberately trying to destroy my life.”
“Which makes it even easier to fight,” Atlas says firmly.
“It’s clear that Megan did something. The evidence is right there.”
River finishes his call and joins us, somehow managing to squeeze onto the couch, so I’m completely surrounded by solid Alpha warmth.
“Detective has the photos from his team, and he’s also putting out a lookout for Megan to bring her in for questioning.”
I lean back against the couch, trying to process everything.
“It has to be something to do with Chad, right? Why else would she do this? What could she possibly gain from breaking in?” A thought strikes me suddenly, and I sit up straighter.
“You know, I accidentally brought Chad’s duffle bag with me on this so-called vacation. It got burned in the fire, but... could that be what she was after? Could she have broken in looking for that bag?”
“What was in it?” Atlas asks immediately.
“Just clothes and toiletries,” I trail off.
“That would make sense, right?”
“So, she breaks in looking for the bag,” River muses, “finds you asleep instead, and decides to what? Burn the place down with you in it?”
“Maybe she panicked,” Levi suggests.
“Maybe she moved the candle to create a distraction while she searched, not realizing it would cause a fire.”
“With fabric from her own scarf as kindling?” I shake my head.
“That doesn’t seem right.”
Atlas stands abruptly, his jaw set in that way that means he’s made a decision.
“I’m making you some hot chocolate,” he announces.
“With an obscene amount of marshmallows.”
“Oh, you don’t have to, but I can’t say no.”
“You’re in shock. You need sugar, and taking care of you gives me something to do besides fantasizing about strangling your ex-boyfriend with my bare hands.”
Despite everything, his protective fierceness makes me smile slightly.
“Thank you.”
While Atlas clatters around downstairs, River disappears briefly and returns with a plate of cookies, the chocolate chip ones.
“Here,” he says, settling back beside me and offering the plate.
I take one with trembling fingers, not because I’m hungry but because the gesture is so sweet, it makes me want to cry.
The cookie is perfect—soft and chewy with just the right amount of salt to balance the sweetness.
“How did you even remember I liked these?” I ask.
“We remember everything about you,” Levi says simply, his arm tightening around me.
“Every little detail, every preference, every story you’ve told us. That’s what you do when you love someone.”
The casual way he drops the L-word makes my heart skip, but before I can process it fully, Atlas returns with a mug of hot chocolate that looks more like a marshmallow sculpture than a beverage.
“Damn, Atlas,” I laugh despite myself.
“Did you leave any marshmallows for the rest of the world? ”
“Nope,” he says unrepentantly, settling on my other side and pressing the warm mug into my hands.
“You need spoiling, and I need to spoil you. Win-win.”
The hot chocolate is rich and sweet and comforting in a way that makes me feel like a child being cared for after a nightmare.
Which, I suppose, isn’t far from the truth.
“You know what the worst part is?” I ask after a few sips, the sugar already starting to calm my shattered nerves.
“What?” River asks, his fingers threading through my hair in a soothing rhythm.
“I came here to get away from Chad’s bullshit. And somehow, the bastard still managed to impact my life in the worst possible way.” My voice cracks on the last word.
“Even when he’s not here, even when I think I’ve escaped, he’s still finding ways to destroy everything good that happens to me.”
“No,” Atlas says firmly, his hand finding my free one and squeezing tight.
“He’s not destroying anything. We won’t let him.”
“But he already has,” I protest. “Look at this mess. Look at what I’ve dragged you all into.”
“Emma, listen to me.” Levi’s voice is gentle but implacable.
“You didn’t drag us into anything. Someone else did… Megan, Chad, or whoever created this situation. You’re the victim here, not the perpetrator.”
“And you’re not alone anymore,” River adds, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
“This isn’t just your fight. It’s ours now. All of ours.”
“We protect our pack,” Atlas says simply.
“And you’re part of our pack now. Completely and utterly part of our family.”
Suddenly, I’m crying, not the panicked, desperate tears from before, but something deeper.
Relief, maybe. Gratitude.
Love.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you guys,” I whisper through my tears.
“You don’t have to deserve us,” Levi says softly.
“You just have to let us love you.”
I set down my hot chocolate with shaking hands and turn to bury my face against Atlas’s chest, letting myself be held and comforted and protected.
For the first time since this nightmare began, I actually believe that everything might be okay.
“We’re going to figure this out,” Atlas promises, his voice rumbling through his chest where my ear is pressed against him.
His arms are wrapped around me like he never plans to let go.
“I love you guys so much,” I murmur, the words slipping out soft and breathless.
It surprises even me how easily they come, words I thought I’d have to choke out, or hide forever behind fear.
But here, in their arms, they feel natural.
Real. Safe.
There's a pause, like the world holds its breath.
Atlas stills beneath me. Levi’s hand on my hair stills, fingers tangled in the strands. River’s entire body tenses at my side.
Levi lets out a shaky breath, his voice a whisper against my scalp. “We love you, too, sweet thing.” He presses a kiss to my head like he’s trying to memorize the moment.
“Love you more than you’ll ever know,” River says, his voice low and reverent, his fingers tightening around mine.
Atlas pulls me in tighter, like he could somehow fuse me to him. “You are my world,” he adds. “And I love you.”
My throat tightens, and I blink fast, overwhelmed by the sudden wave of warmth, of being seen, of being loved. I didn’t realize how heavy that word was until I let it out, and how light I feel now that it’s returned to me, multiplied.
They don’t just love me. They heard me. Felt it. And it means everything.
As I am surrounded by their warmth and protection, letting their love wash over me like a healing balm, I can’t help but think that I just told the guys I love them, and they said it back.
And just like that… I wasn’t alone anymore.