Chapter 21
HANNAH
My body feels as though I’ve decided to run a triathlon after spending three years on a couch eating bonbons.
Everything aches. Muscles I forgot existed are staging a full protest. Even my hair hurts, which shouldn’t be anatomically possible. But it’s the best kind of ache. I grin like an idiot every time I move and remember exactly how I earned these particular sore muscles.
Three days since my heat broke, and I’m still buzzing. My body still hums at a frequency only dogs and extremely satisfied Omegas can hear.
It’s more than just the mind-blowing sex, though holy hell, that was extraordinary. It’s the marking bites. Three of them now, one from each of my Alphas, strategically placed on my body like the world’s sexiest hickeys.
The marks connect me to them like invisible threads running between us. I sense them even when they’re not in the room, their presence always humming at the edge of my awareness.
It’s weird. It’s invasive. It’s absolutely incredible.
The snow finally stopped overnight, and actual sunlight is pouring through the windows this morning as if the universe is personally apologizing for the weather. The sky is that impossible blue that challenges you to write poetry, or at least Instagram the hell out of it.
I’m in the backyard wearing Kane’s jacket, which is oversized on me, with my jeans and sweater, hauling a bucket of food to the reindeer pen.
They spot me immediately and stampede toward the fence.
“All right, all right, don’t trample each other,” I call out, opening the gate and slipping inside. “There’s plenty for everyone, you greedy bastards.”
I dump handfuls of grain into the trough, and they descend on it like locusts. Except Corn Dog, who’s ignoring the food completely and following me around like a lovesick puppy.
“You know the food is over there, right?” I tell him, scratching behind his ears. “With all your friends? Remember food? The thing you literally break into the house for?”
He bumps his nose against my hand insistently.
I’ve noticed lately that the second I step outside, Corn Dog abandons whatever trouble he’s creating and runs straight to me. The other reindeer are friendly enough, but Corn Dog has completely imprinted on me as though I’m his mother or his Omega or his personal food dispenser.
“You’re seriously high-maintenance,” I inform him, pulling out the bag of fancy moss that the guys special-order. “You know that? Like, next-level needy. We should get you a therapist.”
He makes this little huffing sound that I swear is indignant. I hold out a handful of moss, and he takes it hungrily from my palm, chewing while maintaining intense eye contact.
“So listen, I have a proposition for you,” I say conversationally, like I’m not talking to a reindeer. “The tree lighting ceremony is in two days, and I have this idea that could either be brilliant or get us both banned from public events forever.”
Corn Dog keeps chewing, watching me.
“I need you to be on your absolute best behavior. No eating decorations. No headbutting people. No breaking into buildings or blocking doorways or any of your usual nonsense.” I scratch under his chin. “Think you can handle being a professional for one evening?”
He leans into my touch, and I’m choosing to interpret that as agreement.
“Good. Because if you pull this off, I’ll make sure you get moss every single day for a month. The expensive kind. Maybe I’ll even let you sleep in the house again.”
“You’re negotiating with livestock now?” a deep male voice asks.
I spin around to find Kane leaning against the doorframe of the house, arms crossed, looking unfairly attractive in jeans and a thermal Henley that shows off every muscle.
His hair is combed off his face, and there’s a smile playing at his lips, which I adore.
“He’s family,” I correct, giving Corn Dog one more scratch. “And clearly the best listener in this entire household.”
“Ouch.” Kane presses a hand to his chest. “Wounded.”
“Truth hurts, Candy Kane.” I grin.
He groans. “I knew that nickname would come back to haunt me.”
I move to distribute food to the other reindeer, ensuring everyone gets their fair share.
“He’s really attached to you,” Kane observes, watching Corn Dog shadow my every move. “We’ve had these guys for years, and he’s never been this affectionate with anyone. Usually, he just tolerates us between bouts of property destruction.”
“Well, maybe I’ve just got that special touch.” I dust off my hands and walk toward the fence where Kane is now waiting. “Or maybe I’ve taken to all of you, reindeer included, and apparently you can all sense it.”
“It’s your home too now.” Kane’s voice drops. “You know that, right? You’re not a guest anymore. This is permanent. So if you want to change anything—redecorate, make us all move into your room, burn down the guest room and build a shoe closet, whatever—just say the word.”
“A shoe closet?” I laugh. “Do I look like I have that many shoes?”
“You could. I’d support that dream.”
“How generous of you.” I’m grinning as I reach the fence. “And about the room situation. I haven’t decided yet. I might just wander the house like a nomad, showing up in random beds at random times. Keep you all guessing.”
“Spontaneity. I can work with that.”
“Or maybe I will make you all move into my room. Really lean into this pack-bonding thing. Just one giant cuddle pile every night.”
Kane’s eyes heat. “Also not opposed to that option.”
“Of course you’re not.” I lean against the fence, staring up at him. “Speaking of the pack, I have an idea for the tree lighting ceremony. Something that’ll make it unforgettable.”
“Yeah?” He straightens slightly, interest clear on his face. “What is it?”
“Not sharing until I work out all the logistics.” I shoot him a smile. “But it involves Corn Dog, so prepare yourself.”
Kane actually laughs out loud. “You’re planning to put Corn Dog in a public event? That will be interesting.”
“That’s exactly why I’ve been bonding with him. He trusts me.”
“Yeah, to give him moss and scratch his ears. That’s not the same as trusting you to get him to behave at a formal town event.”
“Ye of little faith.” I push off the fence. “Just wait. It’s going to be amazing.”
“I’m equally terrified and impressed.” Kane opens the gate for me. “Also, I made breakfast. Eggs, hash browns, the works. Figured you’d be hungry.”
My stomach growls so loudly it startles a reindeer.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Kane grins.
I give Corn Dog one last handful of moss. “Be good. I’ll be back later to work on your training.”
As I pass through the gate, Kane catches my waist and pulls me flush against him, stealing a kiss.
“Morning, baby girl,” he murmurs against my lips.
“Smooth talker.” But I’m kissing him back because he’s mine.
We head indoors together, and the warmth of the house immediately thaws my frozen fingers and nose. The kitchen smells divine.
Chris is at the stove, and Noel is at the counter with his laptop, scowling at whatever he’s reading while drinking coffee from a mug the size of a soup bowl.
They both look up when we enter.
“The reindeer queen returns,” Chris announces, abandoning his pan to pull me into a hug that lifts me slightly off the ground. “How are your subjects?”
“Fed and plotting my overthrow, probably.” I squeeze him back. “Corn Dog is being clingy again.”
“He’s obsessed with you,” Noel says, still scowling at his laptop.
I laugh and extract myself from Chris to grab an empty plate and turn to Noel. “What are you researching that’s making you look like you want to fight your computer?”
“Scot’s associates. Building a timeline.
Anything I can find.” His jaw tightens. “Still waiting on that list of who had access to the Santa float.” Something my parade team was meant to supply by now.
“But Atlas’s report came through,” he adds.
“Confirming the cut wires were intentional and it wasn’t an accident. ”
My good mood deflates slightly. “Right. The sabotage.”
“We’ll figure it out.” Chris brings over the pan and slides a perfect omelet onto my plate. “And when we do, there will be consequences.”
“The parade went fine overall,” I explain, trying to redirect to something less stressful. “People loved the reindeer. Margaret from the council even said they saved the event.”
“See? Crisis averted by cute animals.” Kane loads hash browns next to my omelet. “Marketing gold.”
“What time do you need to be there for the lighting setup?” Chris asks.
“Probably in the morning to set things up and triple-check everything.” I look between the three of them, loving how much they care for me.
“Remember that you’re actually helping, not just lurking menacingly in the background,” I tease and sit down at the table with my breakfast, grabbing one of the forks.
“We can do both,” Kane says cheerfully.
I take a bite of the omelet and nearly moan. “Okay, fine, if you keep cooking like this.”
“Bribery accepted,” Chris says with a grin.
And sitting here in this kitchen, surrounded by my Alphas, I realize I have a pack now of my own. A home. People who will stand between me and anything that threatens me. I can’t remember the last time I felt so content.
KANE
“That guy yesterday was the dumbest fucking target we’ve caught in months,” I groan, shaking my head as Chris drives us back toward the house. “Seriously. Who hides in their own mother’s basement and then orders pizza to that exact address using their real name?”
Chris snorts, one hand draped casually over the steering wheel. “The same idiot who posted on Facebook about skipping bail. With location tags turned on.”
“I mean, we appreciate the dedication to making our jobs easier, but Jesus Christ.” I’m grinning despite myself, remembering the look on the guy’s face when we showed up.
“We didn’t even have to do surveillance.
Just walked right up, knocked on the door, and his mom answered and pointed downstairs like she was directing us to the bathroom. ”