Chapter 19 #2
“Your behavior,” he says bluntly.
“The flirting, the inappropriate comments, the way you’ve been treating Emma. It needs to stop.”
The silence stretches so long, I wonder if she hung up.
Then she gasps, and I can practically hear her scrambling for words.
“I... what do you mean? I haven’t been?—”
“Yes, you have,” Atlas cuts her off.
“We’ve all noticed it. Me, River, Levi. We’ve made it clear that we’re not interested in anything beyond a professional relationship, yet you keep pushing. And your attitude toward Emma has been unacceptable.”
“But I?—”
“This is the only warning you’re going to get,” Atlas continues, his voice hard as granite.
“Either you pull yourself together and act like the professional I hired, or you can pack your things and leave. We have plenty of volunteers who would be happy to take over your duties. Are we clear?”
Another long silence, then the sound of sniffling.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize I was being so obvious. You’re right, and I’m mortified. I know my behavior has been inappropriate, and that’s completely on me.” Her voice breaks slightly, and despite everything, I feel a pang of sympathy for her.
“I think... I think I need to join a dating site or something, move on properly. I’ve been stuck for so long, and it’s not fair to any of you. Especially not to Emma. I owe her an apology.”
Atlas’s expression softens fractionally.
“Look, you’ve been incredible at the station, Claire. I don’t want to lose you as an employee, but this behavior can’t continue.”
“It won’t, I promise. I’ll apologize to Emma when you get back, and I’ll keep things strictly professional from now on. Thank you for being direct with me. I needed to hear it.”
The call ends, and I say, “That was intense.”
He runs a hand through his hair, sighing.
“Probably overdue. But she sounded genuine.”
“She did,” I agree.
“I actually felt kind of bad for her.”
“You would,” he says with a small smile.
“You’ve got too big a heart.”
We drive in comfortable silence for a few minutes.
“Everyone’s got tragedy in their past,” he says quietly.
“Claire’s Alpha died two years ago. Car accident. She’s been struggling to move forward ever since.”
I gasp, pressing a hand to my chest. “Oh, that’s awful. I didn’t know. ”
Atlas nods.
“Losing your mate... it breaks something fundamental in you. I can’t imagine.”
“Is that why you three found each other as a pack?” I ask softly.
“Because you were all needing a bond from your pasts?”
He’s quiet for so long, I think he won’t answer.
“River was kicked out by his parents. They wanted him to be a perfect Alpha, and when his pheromones didn’t match their expectations, they sent him to correction facilities. Spent years trying to fix something that wasn’t broken.”
My heart clenches.
“He told me, and I hate that his parents did that to him.”
“Then Levi lost his parents in a house fire when he was fifteen. Faulty wiring. He was at school when it happened and couldn’t save them. That’s why he’s so obsessed with fire prevention—it’s his way of making sure no one else goes through what he did.”
My stomach hurts so much at hearing the heartbreak Levi must have gone through.
Atlas’ knuckles are white on the steering wheel.
“My mother abandoned me when I was twelve. Drug addiction. I lived on the streets for two years before I was given a chance at the fire station.” His voice roughens.
I reach over and take his hand, threading our fingers together.
“I’m sorry. All of you have been through so much.”
“We found each other when we needed it most,” he says.
“Formed our own pack, our own family. And now...”
“And now?”
He brings our joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles.
“Now you fit right in with us. Like you were always meant to be part of our little family.”
“Fate,” I whisper, leaning closer to him across the console.
“You really believe that?”
“With you? Hell, yeah, I do.” He glances at me, and the raw honesty in his eyes has me close to losing my breath.
“I’ve never believed in fate before, but then you stumbled into our lives, and suddenly, everything makes sense.”
I can’t find words for the emotion swelling in my chest, so I just squeeze his hand tighter and rest my head against his shoulder.
“I love that,” I murmur.
“I love being part of your family.”
“Me, too.”
Twenty minutes later, we turn down a dirt road I didn’t even know existed.
It winds through dense forest, branches creating a canopy so thick, it’s like driving through a green tunnel.
When we finally emerge into the sunlight, I gasp.
It’s paradise.
Rolling meadow stretches down to a crystal-clear river that sparkles like diamonds in the morning sun.
Ancient trees flank a walking path, their branches reaching toward a sky so blue, it almost hurts to look at.
Wildflowers dot the grass in splashes of color—purple lupines, yellow buttercups, and white daisies that dance in the gentle breeze.
I gasp for air, getting out of the truck on unsteady legs.
“This is...”
“Beautiful,” he finishes, pulling a large wicker basket from the truck bed along with a thick quilt.
“Not many people know about this place. It’s been in my mentor’s family for generations. He showed it to me.”
I spin in a slow circle, trying to take it all in.
The peace here is almost unbelievable.
“I might cry or faint or both. How is this my life right now?”
He chuckles.
“Come on, let’s get set up.”
He spreads a quilt under the shade of a massive oak tree, close enough to the water that we can hear it babbling over the rocks.
Then he starts to pull out food from the basket, and I’m close to drooling.
Flaky croissants that smell like butter and heaven, fresh strawberries and grapes, sliced peaches.
There’s a small container with various cheeses—brie, aged cheddar, something with herbs.
Crackers, sandwiches that seem professionally made, pastries that belong in a French bakery window.
And what looks like homemade lemonade in mason jars.
“Did you rob a gourmet market?” I ask, settling cross-legged on the blanket.
“Maybe.” He kicks off his boots and settles beside me, close enough that I can sense the heat radiating from his body.
“Try the strawberries. They’re from a farm about an hour from here. ”
I bite into one, and juice runs down my chin.
It’s so perfectly ripe and sweet that I can’t help the little moan that escapes me.
“Oh my God, that’s incredible.”
He reaches out to catch the drop of juice with his thumb before it can drip onto my shirt.
“Messy girl,” he murmurs, and the way he says it turns me on slightly.
We sample everything, and I have to admit, whoever helped him plan this has excellent taste.
The cheese melts on my tongue, the croissants are buttery perfection, and the sandwiches, turkey and avocado with some kind of herb spread, are restaurant quality.
He’s watching me eat.
“You’ve got a little...”
He reaches out to brush a crumb from the corner of my mouth, and the simple touch sends electricity shooting through me.
When I automatically lick my lips to catch any other crumbs, his pupils dilate.
“Emma,” he says, his voice rough.
“Yeah?”
Instead of answering, he stands up, and I find myself transfixed by the way he moves so powerfully, as if he’s constantly aware of his body and its capabilities.
He reaches for the hem of his shirt, and I forget how to breathe.
“What are you doing?” I ask, though my words come out breathy and distracted.
“Going for a swim.” He pulls the shirt over his head, and sweet mother of God, the man is a work of art.
Broad shoulders, defined chest, abs that look like they were carved from marble.
“Is it legal for you to be this attractive?” I blurt out, then immediately want to hide under the blanket.
“I mean, you could cause accidents. Traffic pile-ups. Mass hysteria.”
He laughs.
“Only if you’re watching.”
His jeans join his shirt, leaving him in black boxer briefs that are clearly designed for swimming.
They sit low on his hips, and the way they cling to his thighs and ass has me gawking.
“Coming in?” he asks, almost at the water’s edge.
He wades in until he’s waist-deep.
He is devastatingly gorgeous.
“The water’s perfect,” he calls.
I stand up on unsteady legs and start stripping out of my shorts and t-shirt.
The moment the fabric hits the blanket, Atlas goes very still in the water.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathes.
I glance down at myself, at the way the yellow bikini barely covers me.
I feel exposed and powerful at the same time, as if I could bring this Alpha to his knees with nothing but a smile.
“Wait,” he says as I start toward the water.
“Turn around. I need to see...”
Heat floods my cheeks, but I do as he asks, doing a slow turn that I know shows off the practically non-existent back of the bikini.
“Fuck me,” he groans.
“Emma, you have any idea what you look like right now? Like every fantasy I’ve ever had come to life.”
The raw want in his voice makes me bold.
“Just fantasies?” I ask, stepping into the cool water.
“That’s disappointing. ”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, moving toward me like a predator stalking prey.
“I’m going to show you exactly how much more than fantasies you inspire.”
The water is perfect, cool enough to be refreshing without being shocking.
It’s crystal clear, and I can see smooth rocks on the bottom and small fish darting between the shadows.
But all of that fades into background noise when Atlas reaches me.
His hands settle on my waist, and he lifts me effortlessly until my legs wrap around his waist. The position presses us together, his hardness against me, and I can feel exactly how much the bikini affects him.
“Hi,” I whisper, suddenly shy despite the scandalous swimwear.
“Hi, yourself.” His voice is rough, his eyes dark with want.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, it hurts to look at you.”
“You keep making me blush.”
“I’m obsessed with you.” His hands slide up my sides, his thumbs brushing over my erect nipples.
“You know that? The way you bite your lip when you’re thinking, the little sounds you make when you’re writing, how you get that crease between your eyebrows when you’re concentrating. I watch you, and I can barely think straight.”
His confession makes my heart race.
“You do the same thing to me. All of you do. I’ve never felt anything like this before.”
“Good,” he growls, then his mouth is on mine.
This is all heat and demand, his tongue sliding against mine with devastating skill.
I can taste the strawberries we shared and the faint hint of coffee from this morning.
My hands fist in his hair, and I arch against him, seeking more contact.
The movement presses my barely covered breasts against his chest, and we both groan at the sensation.
“You’re my complete undoing,” he whispers against my lips.
“Do you know that? I’ve spent years keeping control, being the responsible one, then you walk into my life, and I can barely remember my own name.”
“Good,” I whisper back, nipping at his lower lip.
“I like having that effect on you.”
He kisses me harder, one hand at the back of my neck while the other explores the minimal coverage of my bikini.
His thumb brushes over my nipple through the thin fabric, and I gasp into his mouth.
“Oh, those nipples look so cold,” he says with fake concern, though his voice is rough with want.
“Show me. My mouth is so warm.”
I laugh at him.
“So responsive,” he murmurs, leaning me slightly back by his hand gripping my nape and somehow managing to slip my bikini aside on one breast. When his mouth closes over my nipple, I moan, arching into him.
His tongue does wicked, flicking things to my nipple, and I hiss at the sensation.
“Fuck, Emma, I could spend hours just learning what makes you gasp like that. ”
“Please...”
“Please, what, sweetheart?”
Before I can answer, his phone starts ringing from the shore, shrill and insistent in the peaceful quiet.
“Ignore it,” he murmurs against my throat, his lips taking more of my breast into his mouth.
But his phone rings again and then again, cutting through the moment like a knife.
“Shit,” he groans, reluctantly releasing me.
“I have to get that. Could be the station.”
He wades toward shore, and I follow, fixing my bikini, suddenly feeling the chill of the water without his warmth.
I grab a towel from the basket and wrap it around myself while he answers the phone, water still dripping from his hair.
“Levi, what’s up?” His voice is tense, immediately shifting into work mode.
I settle on the sunny part of the blanket with some cheese and crackers, but my appetite has vanished.
There’s something in Atlas’s posture that makes my stomach clench with anxiety.
The silence stretches, and I study his expression growing more serious with each passing second.
“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice clipped.
“And the owner wants to— Fuck. Yeah, I understand.”
That’s when I know this is about the burned cabin.
The cheese turns to sawdust in my mouth, and my hands start to shake.
Atlas is quiet for a long moment, listening to whatever Levi is telling him.
I can see the muscle in his jaw ticking, the way his free hand clenches into a fist.
“We’ll head back now,” he finally says.
“Don’t let them do anything until I get there.”
He hangs up and turns to me, his expression carefully controlled in that way that means he’s trying not to scare me.
Which, of course, scares me more than if he’d just looked panicked.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” I whisper, setting down the crackers with trembling fingers.
He’s beside me in an instant, pulling me against his chest despite the fact that we’re both still damp from the river.
“We have results from the cabin investigation.”
“And?” My voice is barely audible.
“It was started by a candle. Accidental probably... but...” He hesitates, and I can feel him choosing his words carefully.
“But what, Atlas? Just tell me.”
“The owner was contacted about the findings. He wants to sue for damages.”
The world tilts sideways, and I can’t breathe.
Sue. The word echoes in my head like a death knell, bringing with it images of lawyers and court dates and my name splashed across headlines.
Everything I’ve worked for, everything I’ve built—gone.
“Emma.” Atlas’s voice sounds like it’s coming from underwater.
“Hey, look at me.”
But I can’t.
I’m drowning in panic, my chest hurting like someone’s sitting on it.
My vision starts to gray at the edges.
“Sweetheart, breathe. Just breathe for me.”
His hands frame my face, forcing me to meet his eyes.
“I can’t,” I gasp. “I’m scared.”
“You’re going to get through this with us by your side,” he says firmly.
“We’ll figure this out. I promise you, Emma.”
“How?” The word comes out as a sob.
“He’s going to sue me for everything I have. My career, my reputation, it’ll all be gone. I’ll be that author who burned down someone’s cabin. No publisher will touch me.”
“Stop.” His voice is sharp enough to cut through my spiral.
“That’s not going to happen.”
I want to believe him, but the fear is too strong, too familiar.
This is what happened with Chad, everything falling apart, my world crumbling around me while I stood helpless to stop it.
“You don’t understand,” I whisper.
“This is what I do. I ruin things. I trusted Chad, and he destroyed my career. I come here, and I burn down someone’s property. Everything I touch turns to ash.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” His voice is gentle but strong.
“Chad was a bastard who took advantage of you. The cabin was an accident, a fucking candle, Emma. You didn’t burn anything down on purpose.”
“But the lawsuit?— ”
“We’ll deal with that. Together.” He pulls me closer, and I feel his heart beating steady and strong against my cheek.
“You’re not alone in this anymore. You have us—me, River, Levi. We’re not going anywhere.”
I want to believe him, but the fear is a living thing in my chest, clawing at my ribs.
“What if you change your minds? What if this gets too complicated, too messy? What if?—”
“Emma.” He tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes again.
“Do you remember what I told you earlier? About us being broken?”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
“We found each other because we needed family. Real family. The kind that doesn’t abandon you when things get hard.” His thumb brushes away a tear I didn’t realize had fallen.
“You’re part of that family now. Which means when you hurt, we hurt. When you fight, we fight beside you. That’s what pack means.”
“You barely know me,” I whisper.
“I know enough.” His voice is fierce, possessive.
“I know you’re brave enough to leave everything behind and start over. You’re strong enough to build a career. You’re loyal enough to put up with Chad’s shit for months. And you’re generous enough to worry about some stranger’s property even when you’re the victim here.”
His words chip away at the panic, replacing it with something warmer.
Hope, maybe. Or just the desperate need to believe that this time will be different.
“We should go,” I say finally, my voice still shaky.
“If there’s going to be a legal battle, I need to start preparing.”
“There’s not going to be a legal battle,” Atlas says with quiet certainty.
“Trust me on this.”
I look up at him.
“Why not?”
He’s quiet for a moment, then sighs.
“The cabin owner, Martin Greene, is a local businessman, owns a few rental properties around the county. He’s also got a reputation for being litigious—sues at the drop of a hat, usually settles out of court for nuisance money.”
“So, he’s going to bleed me dry.”
“No, he’s not.” Atlas’s smile is sharp and predatory.
“Because Martin also has a habit of cutting corners on his rental properties. Faulty wiring, broken smoke detectors, expired fire extinguishers. Levi’s already found three code violations in the preliminary report.”
For the first time since the phone rang, I can breathe properly.
“So if he tries to sue me...”
“We counter with negligence. Failure to maintain safe premises. A dozen building code violations that put his tenants at risk.” Atlas’s grin is all teeth.
“Trust me. Martin is not going to want this to go to court.”
Relief floods through me, so intense, it’s almost painful.
I throw my arms around his neck, pressing my face against his throat.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Thank you for not letting me face this alone.”
“Never,” he murmurs into my hair.
“You’re ours now, Emma. We protect what’s ours.”
The possessive words should probably bother me, but instead, they make me feel safe in a way I haven’t felt in years.
Protected. Cherished.
We pack up the picnic.
When Atlas loads the basket into the truck, I catch his hand.
“This was perfect,” I tell him.
“Before the phone call, I mean. This whole day… it’s been perfect.”
“The first of many,” he promises, then kisses me softly.
“Come on. Let’s go home and deal with this Martin situation. Together.”
Home.
The word settles into my chest like a warm glow.
For the first time in longer than I can remember, I actually have one that feels like it did when my parents and grandma were still alive.
And I believe every word Atlas said about sticking by my side.