32. Stone
Chapter 32
Stone
F uck. Ren’s Father was…intense. No wonder Ren’s the way he is. I mean, I’ve met his father before, but not like this. Without the pretense and fake smiles. Just the raw alpha. It sends a shiver down my spine.
After the emotional intensity of that meeting, I decided the pack, but especially Ren and our omegas, needed to retreat to the nest for a few days. Jax and I dealt with the necessities like food, beverages, protective proximity, but most of all, the healing power of touch.
All of us. Together. Naked. Scents mingling.
It’s the garden that calls to me on this fourth morning after our visit. While the others linger in the nest, I slip outside with the plans I’ve been sketching for weeks, finally ready to implement them. The spring air carries the scent of warming soil and green growth, perfect conditions for what I have in mind.
I spend the morning marking boundaries for the new garden section, excavating sod, turning soil. Dirt under my nails, sweat on my skin, the burn in my shoulders… By midday, I’ve stripped to the waist despite the cool breeze, sweat and dirt marking me all over.
The rose bushes prove unexpectedly challenging. I’m wrestling with the third bush, trying to untangle the protective burlap without damaging the delicate roots, when I hear approaching footsteps.
“Big scary alpha defeated by flowers?” Finn’s voice carries equal parts amusement and affection as he approaches from the back door, a glass of water in each hand.
I look up, abandoning the stubborn roots to accept the offered drink. “These roses have thorns sharper than claws.”
Finn laughs, surveying the expanded garden plot with obvious curiosity. “What are you doing out here? I thought this section was just grass.”
“It was.” I set the empty glass aside, then reach up to pull him down onto my lap. “Now it’s going to be an herb garden. For your cooking.”
“For me?” His eyes widen as he settles against my chest. He stares at me, then at the dirt expanse that currently shows none of these promised features. “You’re building me a bigger garden? Why?”
The question seems genuinely puzzled, as if he can’t quite grasp why I’d undertake such a project specifically for him. It reminds me, with a pang, how long our bond was damaged, how many years he lived with the uncertainty of his place in our pack.
“Because you love cooking. Because fresh ingredients make you happy. Because the kitchen window overlooks this spot, and I thought you might enjoy seeing it grow while you work.” I pause, then add the simplest truth. “Because I failed you before and…because I want to give you things that matter to you.”
Something shifts in his expression—surprise giving way to a softer emotion, a vulnerability he still guards carefully despite our healing. “Stone…”
“I’ve mapped it all out,” I continue, reaching for the weatherproof notebook tucked beneath my tools. “If you don’t like the arrangement, we can adjust it. Nothing’s planted yet except these roses, which will line the path here.”
I open the notebook to show him the detailed plans I’ve drawn. Finn studies the pages with growing wonder, his fingers tracing the neat labels and annotations.
“When did you have time to plan all this?”
“Evenings, mostly,” I reply, brushing some dirt from my hands. “I wanted to surprise you. You deserve something beautiful.”
Finn’s eyes soften, his lips parting slightly as if he wants to say something but can’t quite find the words. Instead, he leans closer, his fingers brushing over the edge of my jaw.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice so quiet I almost don’t hear it.
“Finn…”
He tips his head up, his nose brushing mine. I’m frozen, the tension between us electric. When his lips press against mine, soft and tentative, I feel myself dissolve. It’s not the playful Finn I’m used to—it’s something deeper, something raw and open.
“You never stopped loving me, did you?” he asks finally, his voice softened with wonder. “Not even when the bond broke.”
The question—so direct, so unexpectedly vulnerable—hits me square in the chest, leaving me momentarily breathless.
“Never.” I push past the lump in my throat. “Not for a single moment.”
He nods slowly, as if confirming something. Then, abruptly, his solemn expression shifts to a mischievous grin. “Good. Because Hailey picked a horror movie for tonight, and I wholeheartedly supported her choice.”
The conversational whiplash leaves me blinking in confusion. “What?”
Before I can process the sudden change in topic, Finn uses my momentary distraction to his advantage. With a quick twist of his body and well-placed hands against my chest, he shoves me backward. Caught off-guard, I pitch backward, arms instinctively releasing him to break my fall. I land flat on my back in the freshly turned soil while Finn manages to save himself, balancing nimbly on the balls of his feet at the edge of the garden plot.
His laughter is bright, unreserved, and almost childlike in its pure delight. It fills the spring air as he takes in my comical appearance, sprawled in the dirt.
“You should see your face!” he gasps between peals of laughter, doubling over with the force of his mirth.
I should be annoyed. The practical part of me notes the hours of work potentially disrupted, the shower I’ll need before I can continue, the dirt now covering my back and hair. But Finn’s laughter, so free, so unguarded, disarms any irritation before it can form. Instead, I find myself smiling, then chuckling, then joining him in genuine laughter. I can’t remember the last time I heard Finn laugh like this—uninhibited, without the shadow of what he endured hanging over him. That sound alone is worth every bit of dirt down my back, every thorn that’s drawn blood from my hands today.
“You realize this means war,” I warn him, making no move to rise from my undignified position.
Finn’s eyes widen with mock fear. “Oh no, the dirt monster is threatening revenge. Whatever shall I do?” He takes a deliberate step backward, clearly preparing to flee.
“Run, little omega,” I growl playfully. “It just makes the chase more satisfying.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice, sprinting across the grass toward the house with another burst of laughter trailing behind him. I remain where I am for a moment longer, looking up at the blue sky overhead, feeling the cool earth beneath me and the warm sun on my skin. Feeling, most of all, the lightness in my chest that comes from seeing Finn so genuinely happy, so unburdened by the weight of...well…everything.
Eventually, I rise and survey the damage to the garden plot—minimal, thankfully, though I’ll need to re-level some areas before continuing. It can wait until tomorrow. For now, I gather my tools and the stubborn rose bushes, securing them for later planting before heading inside to shower.
Clean and dressed in fresh clothes, I head downstairs to find preparations for movie night already underway. Jax and Ren are rearranging the living room furniture, pushing the couch and chairs back to create space for the nest of blankets and pillows Hailey and Finn have brought down. Hailey directs their efforts with cheerful authority, clearly excited about her selected film.
“There you are,” she says when she spots me. “Finn said you were having a meaningful relationship with some dirt, but we were starting to wonder if you’d fallen into a hole.”
“Just a strategic retreat to get clean,” I reply, noting Finn’s absence. “Where is he?”
“Kitchen,” Jax answers, adjusting a floor pillow to his exacting standards. “Making enough snacks to feed a small army.”
I head that way, finding Finn surrounded by an impressive array of movie night provisions—popcorn in various stages of preparation, a tray of sliced fruits and cheeses, cookies cooling on racks, and what appears to be homemade pizza dough rising on the counter.
“Planning to feed the neighborhood?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe.
He looks up with a grin, flour dusting one cheek. “Just a pack of hungry alphas with insatiable appetites. The garden looks great, by the way, even with the Stone-shaped indentation in the middle.” He snorts a laugh through his nose.
“It’ll look better when it’s actually planted.” I move into the kitchen, reaching past him to steal a piece of cheese from the tray. “Need help with any of this?”
“You can take the finished popcorn bowls to the living room,” he suggests, nodding toward three enormous bowls filled with different varieties. “Plain butter for Ren, who’s boring; caramel for Hailey, who has the sweet tooth of a five-year-old; and spicy cheese for you, Jax, and me, because we have superior taste.”
I gather the bowls, pausing beside him for a moment. “I was serious about the garden being adjustable. If you want different herbs or vegetables than what I planned, just let me know.”
Finn looks up at me, his expression softening from playful to genuinely touched. “It’s perfect, Stone. Truly. I might have some suggestions later, but mostly I’m just…thank you. It means a lot.”
I nod, accepting his gratitude.
By the time everyone has gathered in the living room, the space has been transformed into a comfortable nest of cushions, pillows, and soft blankets arranged on the floor before the large screen. We settle into our usual positions—Jax at the center with his back against the couch, Hailey curled against his side, Ren stretched out by her side, and Finn and I completing the loose circle.
“Okay, horror movie virgins,” Finn announces, holding the remote like a prize. “Prepare yourselves for a classic of the genre. ‘The Haunting of Hyde Manor’ is horror at its finest—minimal gore, maximum terror.”
“Remind me why we agreed to this?” Ren asks dryly, though he makes no move to object as Finn starts the film.
“Because Hailey used her big doe eyes and pouting lower lip,” Finn supplies helpfully, “and you’re all suckers.”
“Especially you,” I remind him, “since you apparently ‘wholeheartedly supported her choice.’”
“Only because I know exactly who’s going to end up clinging to whom when the jump scares start,” Finn replies with a grin. “And it’s not going to be me.”
His confidence proves slightly premature. As the film progresses, I notice Finn edging gradually closer to my side.
By the halfway point, he’s practically in my lap, his hands clutching my arm tightly every time the music swells. “Scared?” I tease, leaning down to nuzzle his hair. He glares up at me, but the effect is ruined by the flush creeping up his neck.
“Shut up,” he mutters, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, he pulls my arm tighter around him, burying his face in my chest when the next scare comes.
Hailey, on the other hand, makes no pretense of bravery. At the first major scare, she dives face-first into Ren’s chest with a squeak of genuine fright, peeking out cautiously only when he assures her the scene has passed. Ren, for his part, seems torn between amusement at her reaction and a protective instinct to shield her from even fictional threats.
Jax watches with the analytical eye of someone who appreciates craftsmanship, occasionally commenting on camera work or sound design. His arm remains securely around Hailey, thumb tracing soothing patterns on her shoulder when tension builds in the film.
Me? I’m more entertained by my packmates’ reactions than the film itself, especially when a particularly effective jump scare causes Finn to jolt against my side.
When Hailey shrieks and buries her face completely in Ren’s shirt, refusing to look at the screen until the scene changes, Finn seizes the opportunity for distraction. He grabs a handful of popcorn from the bowl at my side and launches it at me, timing his throw to coincide with a loud sound effect from the movie.
“AAAH!” he fake-screams dramatically.
The popcorn hits me square in the face, several pieces sticking in my hair. I turn to him with exaggerated slowness, lifting one eyebrow in silent warning. Finn responds with an expression of such exaggerated innocence that Jax snorts with suppressed laughter from across our circle.
“Something wrong, Stone?” Finn asks sweetly, blinking up at me with wide eyes that dare me to retaliate.
“Just thinking about all the ways I could make you regret that,” I reply mildly, plucking popcorn from my hair with deliberate care.
“Children, please,” Ren interjects dryly. “Some of us are trying to watch people be terrorized by supernatural entities.”
“Some of us are being terrorized by supernatural entities,” Hailey mutters into his chest, still refusing to look at the screen.
“That ghost isn’t half as scary as Stone is going to be when he gets revenge for the popcorn attack,” Finn stage-whispers, which earns him a thrown pillow from Jax.
“All of you, be quiet,” Jax orders, though there’s no real authority in his tone, only affectionate exasperation. “Or I’ll make you watch the sequel next.”
That shuts Finn up, and finally he gives up pretending to not be scared, pulling my arm around his shoulders as he tucks himself against my chest. I can’t resist the triumphant smile.
The credits roll just as Finn’s breathing evens out against my chest. I glance down to find him asleep. Across the nest, Hailey’s curled against Ren’s side, her fingers still clutching his shirt like he’s the only thing between her and the film’s lingering ghosts.
Jax catches my eye in the dim light, his lips quirking as he surveys our wrecked pack nest—popcorn scattered like landmines, blankets tangled from jump scares, three empty snack bowls.
“The new garden looks good,” he murmurs, nodding toward the window. “He needed that.”
I stroke Finn’s hair, careful not to wake him. “We all did.”
Ren shifts carefully, extracting himself from Hailey’s grip to gather the discarded bowls. “I’ll take first watch.”
Jax shakes his head, standing with alpha finality. “Sleep. All of you.” His gaze lingers on Finn’s peaceful face, then to the window, a faraway look in his eyes. “I’ve got the watch.”
As I carry Finn upstairs, his weight warm and trusting in my arms, I can’t help but draw in his scent. It’s stronger now, sweeter with sleep, and it tugs at something primal in me.
I place him gently into the nest, but as I start to pull away, his eyes flutter open.
“Don’t go,” he murmurs, fingers catching my wrist. The sleepy heat in his gaze sends blood rushing south.
“I need to help clean up downstairs,” I whisper, though my body’s already responding to his touch.
Finn shakes his head, tugging me closer until I’m hovering over him. “They can handle it.” His hand slides beneath my shirt, warm palm mapping the muscles of my stomach. “I want you, Stone.”
Those three words demolish my restraint. I capture his mouth in a kiss that starts gentle but quickly deepens as he arches against me. The sweet taste of caramel popcorn lingers on his tongue, and I chase it, consuming him with a hunger that surprises us both.
“Thought you were tired,” I murmur against his neck, nipping at the sensitive spot below his ear.
Finn gasps, head falling back to give me better access. “Not anymore.”
My hand slips beneath his waistband, finding him already hard and leaking. He bucks into my touch, a broken moan escaping his lips that I quickly silence with another kiss.
“Shh,” I warn, though the thought of the others hearing him, knowing I’m taking care of our omega, sends a possessive thrill through me. “You’ll wake Hailey.”
“Then stop making me feel so good,” he challenges, eyes gleaming with mischief even as his breath hitches when I stroke him firmly.
I growl low in my throat, the sound making him shiver beneath me. “Not a chance.”
I strip him, drinking in the sight of him spread across our sheets. The moonlight through the window paints his skin silver, highlighting the flush spreading across his chest. My perfect omega.
“Please,” he whispers, reaching for me.
I shed my clothes before covering his body with mine, skin to skin, heat to heat. The first press of my length against his sends stars bursting behind my eyelids.
“I’ve got you,” I promise, gathering his slick in my palm. “Always.”
When I press one slicked finger inside him, he bites his lip to stifle a moan. Two fingers, and his eyes roll back, muscles tensing beautifully. By the third, he’s writhing beneath me, desperate and needy in a way that makes my instincts surge.
“Stone,” he pleads, voice breaking. “Now. Please, now.”
I line myself up, pushing in with exquisite slowness that has us both trembling. The tight heat of him nearly undoes me, but I hold back, wanting to savor this moment, this connection.
Once fully seated, I pause, pressing my forehead to his. “You’re everything,” I whisper, the words escaping before I can filter them.
Something soft and vulnerable flashes in Finn’s eyes. He wraps his legs around my waist, drawing me impossibly deeper. “Move,” he commands, and who am I to deny him?
I establish a rhythm that’s neither gentle nor rough. Each thrust pulls breathless sounds from him that I capture with my mouth, swallowing his pleasure as if it’s my own.
His nails score my back when I hit that perfect spot inside him. “There,” he gasps. “Right there.”
I comply, angling my hips to strike it with each thrust. His body tightens around me, the pressure building between us like a gathering storm.
“Come for me,” I growl against his ear. “Let me feel you.”
He shatters at my command, body arching off the nest as his release coats our stomachs. The pulsing grip of him around me triggers my own climax, and I bury myself deep inside him with a muffled groan.
Afterward, as our breathing slows, I roll to the side, keeping him tucked against me. His fingers trace idle patterns on my chest, following the lines of sweat cooling on my skin.
“You’re building me a garden,” he murmurs, voice soft with wonder and lingering pleasure.
I press a kiss to his temple. “I’d build you anything you wanted.”
And I would. For both of them, for my pack, I’d do anything.