Chapter 5 Ethan
ETHAN
The stairs creak under my boots as I plunge down the stairs and out of the inn, every step reverberating with the storm raging inside me.
I barely notice the muted lighting of the inn or the smell of aged wood and faint vanilla that clings to the air—Sophie’s scent.
It clings to my senses, maddening and inescapable, and no amount of deep breathing can chase it away.
I tell myself I don’t care. It’s none of my business what she and Tyler do, but the memory of her flushed cheeks and the way Tyler had looked at her—like he was ready to devour her—burns in my mind. My fists tighten at my sides as I hit the front parlor, my jaw clenched so tight it aches.
The cool evening air hits me as I shove the front door open, but it does nothing to calm the fire under my skin.
My feet carry me toward the orchard almost on instinct, the rhythmic crunch of gravel and dirt underfoot barely grounding me.
The rain is steady now, soaking through my shirt, but I don’t care.
I need the space, the solitude. I need to think—or not think.
Her laugh echoes in my head, bright and unguarded, the way it used to sound around bonfires when we were younger. I can still see her there, the way her face glowed in the firelight, the way she leaned into me like she trusted me with her whole world.
And then she left. No warning. No goodbye. Just…fucking gone.
I reach the edge of the orchard, the familiar scent of apples and damp earth surrounding me, but it’s not enough to erase her.
Sophie’s scent still lingers, soft and grounding, with that wild, maddening edge.
It’s burned into my senses like a mark I can’t erase.
Everything in me demands I run back there and claim her.
I want her to submit to me. I want to bite her while I lose myself in her.
I want to feel her slick and taste her. We used to lose each other to pleasure, and I missed that more than I realized.
I growl, kicking at a loose stone in the wall between our two properties.
A large portion of the wall tumbles down the hill, but the sharp movement does nothing to release the knot in my chest. Why did she have to come back?
Why now, after all these years? And why does she still have this hold on me?
I lean against the nearest tree, the bark rough against my back. The rain slides down my face, mixing with the sweat on my brow. Her words from earlier cut through the haze in my mind: “Not everything needs saving, Ethan—especially not me.”
The sting of her tone, the defiance in her eyes—it felt like a slap, but damn it if she wasn’t right. I can’t fix everything. I know that. But it doesn’t stop the ache, the need to protect her. To fix what I couldn’t the first time.
But it’s not just Sophie. It’s Tyler, too. And Brodie.
The pack is in shambles, and it’s my fault. I was supposed to hold us together, to be the anchor. But instead, Brodie took off, and Tyler… Tyler’s still here, but it’s like we’re strangers some days.
And then there’s Sophie. Seeing her with Tyler earlier—how their scents mixed, like a song I’ve always known but forgot—felt like home.
I slam my fist against the tree, the dull thud reverberating through my arm. Can this even be fixed? Can I make this work? Can we make this work? There really is no future without Brodie and Tyler. And we need her. The thought feels too big, too heavy, and for a moment, it threatens to crush me.
“Fuck!” The word tears out of me, raw and guttural, carried away by the rain.
The silence that follows is deafening. I let my head fall back against the tree, my eyes closing as the rain drips down my face. I’m so goddamn tired. Tired of running in circles. Tired of trying to do it all alone. Tired of pretending I don’t want more.
Because I do. I want her. I want Tyler. I want Brodie. I want my pack.
The truth settles in my chest like a weight, heavy but resolute. It’s about damn time I admitted it.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I unlock it with trembling fingers. My thumb hovers over Brodie’s name for a moment before I tap it, crafting a text.
Me: Feel like grabbing a drink? Meet me at the bar in an hour?
I hit send before I can second-guess myself, then pull up Tyler’s contact and send the same message.
Me: We need to talk. Bar in an hour.
The rain has slowed to a drizzle by the time I push off the tree. There’s no turning back now. It starts with them—with us. If I want to have any chance of fixing this, of figuring out what the hell to do about Sophie, it starts here.
As I head back toward the house to change, a strange sense of purpose settles over me. It’s not much, but it’s a start. And I feel like I’m moving toward something instead of running away.
The faint buzz of my phone pulls me from my thoughts, and I glance down to see Brodie’s reply.
Brodie: You buying?
Me: Don’t push it.
A small smile tugs at my lips.
I never thought a drink with them would feel like progress, but damn if it doesn’t feel like the first step. This isn’t going to be easy—none of it is—but I’m ready to try.
I step into the bar, shaking off the rain as I scan the room.
It’s warm, noisy, and alive in a way that feels good.
I spot Brodie first. His broad shoulders shake with laughter as he talks with the bartender.
He turns, catching sight of me, and raises an eyebrow, his grin as lazy and self-assured as ever.
“Look who decided to grow a pair,” he says as I approach, his voice laced with amusement, but I can sense his insecurity. Brodie never did think he was worth anything. He was so wrong, though. I’ve never met a more solid Alpha.
“Don’t start,” I warn, sliding onto the stool beside him. The familiar scent of sun-warmed leather and spice rolls off him, grounding me more than I’d like to admit. God, I’ve missed him.
Brodie chuckles, signaling the bartender for another round. He looks at me and bumps my shoulder with his. “Relax, Young. It’s just a drink.”
“Yeah, famous last words,” I mutter, but the words lack heat.
Before he can respond, the door swings open, and Tyler strides in, his citrus and sage scent cutting through the room. He spots us immediately, his smile widening as he approaches. He never could keep his emotions to himself.
“Well, isn’t this cozy,” he says, dragging a stool closer and plopping down. “What’s the occasion? Group therapy?”
I roll my eyes. “Something like that.”
Brodie snorts. “Figured it was about time we had a family reunion. Thought I’d start with a drink.”
“Family, huh?” Tyler leans back, his grin fading just slightly. “Funny. Feels like we’ve been anything but.”
The weight of his words settles over the table, thick and unspoken. For a moment, none of us speak, the hum of the bar filling the space where our pack bond used to be.
I clear my throat, forcing myself to meet their gazes. “Look, I know things haven’t been…right. I…I screwed up. I gave up, and I didn’t do enough to hold us together.” The hot burn of shame rides me hard.
Brodie’s grin fades entirely, replaced by something softer, more serious, putting his arm on my shoulders. “It wasn’t all on you, Ethan. I left, remember? No one forced me.”
“Why did you leave?” Tyler asks, and I look at him. I can see the hurt that he keeps buried underneath all that easy charm.
Brodie looks away, his jaw tightening. “I didn’t think I had to explain. It felt like…I don’t know…like I didn’t fit anymore. Like I couldn’t give you what you needed.”
“And now?” I press, my voice steady but low. “Why are you back?”
Brodie glances at me, then Tyler, a flicker of something vulnerable in his amber eyes. “Honestly? Why I left doesn’t seem important anymore. And seeing you two again…it feels like maybe I was wrong.”
Tyler exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Damn right, you were wrong.” For a moment, I can see the two of them lost in each other. Tyler is the first to look away to take a big swallow of his beer.
Brodie smirks, the tension breaking slightly. “You missed me. Admit it.”
Tyler’s lips twitch, and for a moment, the sharpness in his expression softens. “Yeah, I missed you, asshole.”
“And you,” Brodie says, his gaze sliding to me. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how grumpy you’ve been without me. Admit it—you’ve missed my charm. Lily says you’ve been a total prick for years,” he laughs.
I snort, shaking my head. A big smile on my face “Missed you? No. Missed you being around to make Tyler’s life miserable? YES.”
Tyler laughs, and the sound is lighter than I’ve heard in years. It’s enough to ease some of the weight in my chest, but not all of it.
“Truth,” I say, my tone firm. “I want a pack again. If we’re doing this—if we’re trying again—it has to be all of us making it work. No more running. No more bullshit.”
They both nod, the unspoken agreement settling between us.
“No more bullshit” Brodie says.
The conviction in his voice steadies something in me, and I feel a faint flicker of hope. Brodie raises his glass again, his grin returning, though it’s softer now, more thoughtful.
“Cheers to you, you assholes,” he says, his voice carrying a weight that goes beyond the usual teasing. “And to whatever the hell this ends up being.”
“Cheers fuckers,” Tyler raises his glass.
I hesitate for only a moment before lifting my glass too, my voice low but steady. “To us.”
As the glasses meet, the sound rings out like a promise—a quiet, unspoken vow to figure this out, to build something real.