Epilogue
REINA
The music was loud, champagne was flowing, and Luca's Player of the Year trophy sat on a table nearby, gleaming under the lights.
I couldn't stop staring at it.
My Alpha had won. After everything we'd been through, all the scrutiny and judgment and media circus, Luca Vale had been named the best player in the National Ice Hockey League.
And he'd thanked me and Jaxon in his acceptance speech.
In front of everyone.
On live television.
"You're thinking too hard, sweetheart."
I looked up to find Luca standing in front of me, hand extended. He'd loosened his bow tie, top button of his tuxedo shirt undone. His dark hair was slightly messed up from where I'd run my fingers through it earlier.
He looked perfect.
"Dance with me," he said.
I took his hand and let him pull me onto the dance floor. The after party was in full swing around us. Players, coaches, media personalities, league executives. Everyone who was anyone in hockey was here.
And they were all watching us.
I could feel their eyes. Some curious, some supportive, some still judgmental even after six months.
I didn't care anymore.
Luca's arms came around me, one hand at my waist, the other holding mine. We swayed to the music, and for a moment it was just us. The noise faded into background static.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
"More than okay." I rested my head against his chest, felt his heartbeat steady and strong. "I'm proud of you. So proud."
"I meant what I said up there. None of this means anything without you. Without both of you."
I pulled back to look at his face. His ice blue eyes were soft, vulnerable in a way he rarely let anyone see.
"I've never been happier," he said, and I could feel the truth of it through our bond. "It took so long. Twelve years. But I'm glad you came back to Winter Crest, Reina. I'm glad you came back to us."
My throat tightened with emotion. "Me too."
"Even though you had to give up your job? Even though your mother..."
"Especially because of all that." I touched his face, felt the slight stubble on his jaw. "I found myself when I came back here. Found both of you. Found what I was always meant to be."
He kissed me then, soft and sweet. Not caring that half the hockey world was watching.
When we broke apart, I heard someone clear their throat beside us.
"Breaking up the tender moment," Jaxon drawled, appearing at my elbow with a glass of champagne in each hand. "But I figured our Omega might be thirsty."
He handed me one of the glasses, then deliberately leaned in and kissed me on the mouth. Longer than appropriate for a public setting. Possessive and claiming.
When he pulled back, he was grinning at Luca over my shoulder.
"Yes, I'm very glad our sweet Omega came home to us," he said, his dark eyes glinting with amusement and challenge in equal measure.
Luca's jaw ticked. "You just couldn't let me have one moment, could you, Roarke?"
"Why would I do that? Sharing is caring, Vale."
"You're impossible."
"And you're uptight. Good thing we balance each other out."
I rolled my eyes but I was smiling. This was them now. Still competitive, still pushing each other's buttons. But it was healthy. Playful. The sharp edges of their old rivalry worn smooth by six months of living as a pack.
"Are you two going to bicker all night?" I asked. "Because I'd like to actually enjoy this party."
"We're not bickering," they said in unison, then glared at each other.
I laughed, took a sip of my champagne.
Jaxon looked good tonight. He'd traded hockey gear for a custom leather jacket over his tuxedo shirt, dark jeans instead of formal pants.
His shop, Roarke Customs, had opened three months ago and was already making waves in the motorcycle community.
He'd brought one of his builds to a show last month and won best in class.
He was happy. Truly happy. I could feel it through our bond.
And Luca, despite his occasional grumbling about Jaxon's refusal to follow any formal dress code ever, was happy too. This season had been his best yet. Without the rivalry consuming him, he'd played like he was born for it.
They'd both found their places. And I'd found mine between them.
"Reina!"
I turned to see Shayla pushing through the crowd, camera in hand. She'd become one of my closest friends over the past six months. Had been there through everything, supportive and fierce and unapologetically herself.
She'd also become my unofficial business partner. When I'd started my freelance photography business, she'd been my first client. Then my first investor. Now we were collaborating on projects together.
"You three need to let me take a photo," she said, slightly breathless. "I've been trying to get a good shot all night but you keep moving."
"We were dancing," I protested.
"Well, stop dancing and stand still for thirty seconds." She lifted her camera. "Come on. This is history. First major public event as a trinity. Luca just won Player of the Year. I need to document this."
Luca and Jaxon exchanged a look over my head.
"She's not going to stop until we do it," Jaxon said.
"I know," Luca replied.
They moved to flank me, one on each side. I was wearing a deep blue dress that showed both claiming bites on my shoulders. Luca's mark on the left, Jaxon's on the right. We'd stopped hiding them months ago.
Luca's hand settled at my waist. Jaxon's arm draped across my shoulders.
"Closer," Shayla directed. "You're a pack, not distant relatives at a funeral."
Jaxon pulled me tighter against his side. Luca's hand slid lower on my waist, possessive.
"Better," Shayla said. "Now look at me. And for the love of god, smile. You're supposed to be happy."
I smiled. It wasn't hard. Looking at Shayla holding her camera, I was suddenly struck by the parallel.
Fifteen years ago, there'd been another photo. Three kids in a locker room, arms around each other, grinning at the camera. Before everything fell apart.
Now here we were. Older. Scarred. But together again.
"Perfect," Shayla said, lowering her camera. "I'll send these to you tomorrow."
"Thanks, Shay."
She winked at me, then her expression shifted as she looked past us. "Oh no."
I turned to see what she was looking at.
A tall, handsome man in a suit was weaving through the crowd toward us. Dark hair, easy smile, completely focused on Shayla.
Noah Vale. Luca's brother.
"Is that..." I started.
"Yep," Shayla said, already backing away. "And I'm leaving."
"Shayla, wait," Noah called, but she was already disappearing into the crowd.
He stopped next to us, watching her go with a lovesick expression.
"She's going to be the death of me," he muttered.
"You brought this on yourself," Luca said, but he was smiling. "I told you to give her space."
"I tried space. Didn't work. Figured I'd try the direct approach."
"How's that working out for you?" Jaxon asked, amused.
"She asked me to be her date tonight, didn't she?" Noah grinned. "It's progress."
He headed after Shayla, and I shook my head. "Those two are going to be interesting."
"Speaking of interesting," Jaxon said, tugging me toward the edge of the dance floor. "Let's get out of here."
"We can't leave yet," Luca protested. "There are people I need to talk to, sponsors..."
"Vale, you just won Player of the Year and gave a speech claiming your Omega and your former rival as your pack on live television. I think you've done enough networking for one night."
Luca looked like he wanted to argue. Then his eyes met mine and something in his expression softened.
"She does look tired," he conceded.
"I'm not tired," I said. "But I wouldn't mind going home."
Home. The word still felt new. We'd moved into a house together two months ago. Big enough for Luca's need for space, close enough to the city for his training, with a massive garage for Jaxon's bikes and a studio with perfect light for my photography.
And a bedroom with a nest that took up half the room.
"Home it is," Luca said.
We made our way through the crowd, accepting congratulations and deflecting invasive questions with practiced ease. By the time we made it outside to where Jaxon's motorcycle and Luca's car were parked, I was ready to be alone with them.
Just us. No cameras. No judgment. Just our pack.
"Race you home, Vale," Jaxon said, already throwing his leg over his bike.
"We are not racing," Luca said firmly. "Reina's in heels and a dress. She's riding with me."
"Spoilsport."
But Jaxon waited until we were settled in Luca's car before starting his engine.
The drive home was quiet. Luca's hand found mine in the darkness, fingers lacing together. Through the bond, I could feel Jaxon ahead of us on his bike, feel Luca beside me, feel the completeness of our trinity.
"I love you," I said quietly.
"I love you too, Sweetheart."
Through the bond, I felt Jaxon's response even though he couldn't hear me. Love, fierce and absolute.
We pulled into the driveway and I saw lights on in the windows. We'd left them on before we left, making the house warm and welcoming for when we returned.
Home.
Jaxon was already off his bike, helmet under his arm, waiting by the front door.
"Took you long enough," he said. "I've been standing here for at least thirty seconds."
"Tragedy," Luca said dryly, but he was smiling.
We walked inside together, and I kicked off my heels immediately. Felt Luca's hands on my shoulders, helping me out of my coat. Felt Jaxon press a kiss to the claiming bite he'd left six months ago.
This was my life now. This was my pack. My family. My home.
And I wouldn't change a single thing.