Epilogue #2
Dinner is chaos, but the good kind.
Theo’s made enough food for twelve people—roast chicken with herbs from his garden, roasted vegetables, fresh bread that’s still warm from the oven. The kitchen smells incredible, layered with the scents of rosemary and thyme and the underlying warmth of pack.
“The baby needs nutrients,” Theo says when I point out that I can’t possibly eat all of this.
“That’s not how pregnancy works,” Lucas says, passing me the salad. “The baby takes what it needs. Cara doesn’t need to eat for two.”
“Let him feed me.” I reach for more potatoes. “I spent two months surviving on crackers and ginger ale. I’ve earned this.”
Theo grins triumphantly. Lucas sighs but doesn’t argue.
Grandma asks about names—we’ve got a shortlist for each, though we keep going back and forth—and about the nursery timeline.
Nate tells her, quietly, that he’s almost finished with the rocking chair.
He’s been building it in the evenings, after the granny flat work is done, sanding the wood smooth so there won’t be any splinters.
“Of course you are.” Grandma looks at Nate with something soft in her expression. “Good man.”
Nate focuses very intently on his plate. The bond pulses with his quiet pleasure at the praise, the warmth he’d never admit to out loud. Under the table, his hand finds my knee. Squeezes once.
They’ve been preparing for this baby since the day we found out. Maybe longer. Maybe they’ve been preparing since they built that nest room nine years ago, hoping I’d come home.
After dinner, Grandma corners me in the kitchen while the others clean up.
“I’m proud of you,” she says, her hand warm on mine. “You know that.”
“You mention it every week.”
“And I’ll keep mentioning it until you believe it.” She squeezes my fingers, her grip still strong despite the years. “Now. Tell those boys to stop arguing about window measurements and just build my kitchen. I want to be moved in before my great-grandbaby arrives.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And Cara?” She catches my eye, her expression softening. “You picked good ones. I always knew you would.”
My throat tightens. “Grandma—”
"Go on." She shoos me toward the living room. "Go sit down. Put your feet up. You're growing a human in there."
My phone buzzes just as Theo's pulling me closer on the couch.
Josie: So hypothetically
Josie: If someone told their entire family they had a pack
Josie: When they definitely do not have a pack
Josie: And now said family expects to meet this pack at the reunion
Josie: How screwed would that someone be?
I stare at the screen. Then I call her.
"Josie. What did you do?"
"Don't tell my mom."
After Grandma leaves with promises to see us Tuesday. After the dishes are done. After Theo finishes singing off-key while scrubbing pans and Lucas gives up trying to correct him and Nate dries everything in patient silence.
I stand in the nursery doorway.
Moonlight spills through the windows, silvering the crib in the corner and the rocking chair beside it.
The walls are soft yellow—Theo’s choice, because “it looks like sunshine, and every baby should wake up to sunshine.” The changing table is stocked and organized, because Lucas can’t help himself.
The blankets in the crib are soft and warm, because Nate spent three weeks researching which fabrics were safest for newborns.
This used to be Lucas’s room.
Now it’s waiting for someone new.
Arms wrap around me from behind. Nate, his chin coming to rest on my shoulder, his hands spreading across my belly. His scent surrounds me—pine and woodsmoke—and his purr starts up, low and rumbling against my back.
“Okay?” he murmurs against my hair.
“More than okay.”
Through the bond, I feel him. His protectiveness. The quiet joy he doesn’t have words for. The love that’s been there for ten years, patient and steady, waiting for me to come home.
Theo appears in the doorway, drawn by the pull of pack. Then Lucas, his hand coming to rest on the small of my back. The four of us standing together in the room that will hold our future.
“Bed?” Theo asks.
“Bed.”
We settle into the nest—the one they built nine years ago, hoping I’d come back. Me in the middle, where I belong. Theo curled around my back, one hand resting on my belly. Lucas pressed against my front, his forehead touching mine. Nate behind Theo, one arm stretched across all of us.
This is my life now. Sawdust and Sunday dinners and alphas who build granny flats for my grandmother without being asked. Who spent a decade waiting for me to come home.
Mr. Darcy pads in after us, circles twice, and settles at our feet with a satisfied rumble.
The pack bond hums between us—Theo’s brightness, Lucas’s steadiness, Nate’s quiet devotion. And underneath it all, something new. Something small and growing. Already part of us.
Our baby.
I close my eyes.
Ten years ago, I left three boys who loved me.
Now I’m home. Bonded. Pregnant. Building a home for my grandmother—the same grandmother who faked needing help just to get me back to this town.
Who knew one meddling old woman could be so right about everything?
About damn time.
THE END