Chapter 15
ZACK
Theo was already onstage when I caught sight of him.
He lingered longer than necessary, mic in hand, scanning the edge of the crowd like he was looking for something, or someone.
His gaze flicked toward the wings, and for half a second I knew he was trying to catch my eye.
I didn’t give him the satisfaction.
Instead, I focused on the movement just behind him. One of Cooper’s enforcers stood close, attention fixed squarely on Theo.
Not subtle, but that was the point. Perform, then leave. No lingering.
I turned away before irritation could sink its claws in. I wasn’t wasting another thought on him tonight.
Muffled laughter from the crowd and the echo of music drifted through the canvas walls of the temporary stage as I headed farther backstage.
“Zack!”
I barely had time to register the voice before Mark came jogging toward me, cheeks flushed from the cold. He had two paper cups in his hands, steam curling from the lids.
“Where were you?” I asked, relief slipping into my tone before I could stop it. “We were supposed to meet here ten minutes ago.”
“I know, I know,” he said quickly, slowing to a stop in front of me. “The queue was insane.”
I stared at the cups. Then back at him. “You were late because you were buying food?”
“They’re drinks,” he corrected, not even a little apologetic. “And it’s freezing out there. I thought you might want something warm before going on.”
I opened my mouth to argue, that we could’ve gotten something after instead, but the words stalled when he pressed one of the cups into my hand.
I barely noticed at first; one moment my fingers were empty, the next they were curled around the warm paper, the heat seeping into my palms. I took a sip without thinking.
Mulled wine. Warm, spiced with cinnamon and cloves, with just a hint of orange.
The heat spread fast, down my throat, into my chest, and for a moment I wasn’t sure if the warmth was from the drink or from the way Mark was watching me.
He took a sip from his own cup and frowned. “Your bowtie’s crooked.”
I glanced down immediately. “It is not.”
He tilted his head, unimpressed. “It is.”
“Yours is just as—” I stopped when I actually looked at him.
His bowtie sat perfectly against his collar, neat and symmetrical. Of course it was. I scowled and took another sip of the drink.
Mark smiled and set his cup down on a nearby case. “Hold still.”
“I am holding still,” I muttered, as I turned slightly toward him and lifted my chin a fraction.
He stepped closer, fingers brushing my collar as he adjusted my bowtie with careful precision.
I let him fuss. Didn’t even pretend otherwise.
“There,” he said quietly. “Perfect.”
I swallowed, heat blooming again, and took another sip just to have something to do with my hands.
“Wow,” a familiar voice drawled from behind us. “Look at you two.”
I startled slightly. “Ethan?”
Ethan stood a few steps away, grinning, hands tucked into his coat pockets. “You’re both so… shiny. Very festive. Very shiny.”
“You said shiny twice,” I said, rolling my eyes. “What are you doing here? I thought you were swamped at the clinic.”
Ethan shrugged. “I took a break. This was important.”
“Mm-hmm,” I said, crossing my arms.
“Hey!” Ethan said, mock-offended. “I’m still the head healer. I can take an hour off on New Year’s Eve to watch one of my best friends perform.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Okay,” he amended, holding up a finger. “More like half an hour. I still have to drive back to the pack clinic. But still.” His gaze softened. “I know how much this means to you. And I didn’t want to miss this.”
Before I could respond, he lifted his phone.
“Oh no,” I said immediately.
“You know I have to get a picture of this,” Ethan replied, already framing the shot.
“Don’t you dare send it to Noah.”
“Mmm-hmm,” he said absently, eyes still on the screen, thumbs moving. “I won’t.”
The message sent sound chimed a split second later.
I sighed and shook my head, but I stepped forward and pulled him into a hug anyway. “Thanks for coming.”
He hugged me back, then gave my shoulder a quick pat as we separated. “So,” he said, eyeing both of us. “Aren’t you two freezing or something?”
Mark shook his head. “We’re wearing three layers of thermals under this.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m sweating under here,” I added. “But my hands and face are still cold, though.”
Ethan laughed. “I honestly didn’t think you’d go through with wearing something like that.”
“Believe me,” I said, “I never thought I’d agree to it either.”
“That was before Cathy got involved,” Mark cut in smoothly. “Once she realized we were serious about it, she pitched the idea to the other organizers.”
“And somehow,” I added, still not entirely convinced it was real, “we ended up with the pre-countdown slot.”
Ethan blinked. “Wait. You’re doing that set?”
“The one right before midnight,” Mark said. “And we’re leading into the countdown.”
Ethan’s grin widened. “Wow.”
Before anything else could sink in, one of the event organizers poked their head backstage. “Five minutes,” they called. “You’re up after this set.”
My stomach flipped. The noise from the crowd swelled, and suddenly everything felt very real.
I shifted my weight and reached up, fingers curling briefly around the worn leather of my dad’s guitar strap.
I turned to Mark. “Ready?”
He met my gaze without hesitation. “Let’s do this.”
Ethan stepped back, giving us space. “Good luck. You’ve got this. Both of you.”
I took a deep breath, letting the buzz of the crowd wash over me as the MC’s voice rang out across the square.
“Alright, Pecan Pines! Who’s ready to ring in the New Year?” she called, drawing cheers from the crowd.
“Hey, don’t forget the food stalls. There’s hot cider, roasted chestnuts, and those killer fried pastries by the fountain. Go grab one before the countdown hits!”
Laughter rippled through the audience as she waved toward a cluster of lights. “Also, make sure you can actually see the stage—you’re going to want the full view for the next set!”
I shifted my weight backstage, fingers flexing absently near the strings. From the corner of my eye, I saw a pack enforcer guiding Theo and his band toward the carpark. Theo looked back once, jaw tight, before being steered firmly away.
Good.
The MC paused, letting the crowd settle. “Up next, we’ve got a local favorite. Help me welcome Zack and Mark!”
The crowd erupted as we stepped out into the light. I lifted a hand, smiling wide as Mark did the same beside me.
The stage lights were bright enough to make the night sky disappear, the decorations overhead glowing gold and silver.
A stagehand adjusted one of the mic stands while another gave us a quick thumbs-up. Everything was in place; this was our moment.
I stepped up to the mic, the cold air brushing my face as I looked out over the crowd. “How’s everyone tonight?” I said, my voice steady even though my heart was thudding. “It’s a beautiful night out here, and we’re ready to make it even louder!”
Cheers answered me.
Mark glanced over and strummed a playful chord, just enough to tease.
“Let’s party,” I added, and then we were off.
The first notes rang out clean and confident. We moved through the set exactly the way we’d planned, song into song, a medley that built energy instead of stopping to reset.
It had been years since I’d played a stage this big, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been nervous.
But the moment the lights flared and the sound hit, the nerves began to disappear, replaced by adrenaline and a surprising sense of freedom. My body remembered the moves, my voice found its rhythm.
The stage lights glittered off the decorations, blurring the crowd into motion and noise. And yet, all I really saw was Mark.
Beside me, he sang like he belonged here, smiling whenever our eyes met, instinctively leaning closer during harmonies. Our voices and guitars wove together seamlessly, each note sliding naturally into the next.
Then the final chord hit, and the music ended. Applause crashed over us.
I laughed, breathless, turning toward Mark as he did the same. We were both breathing hard, grinning like idiots.
I stepped up to the mic again, heart pounding, and glanced up at the digital board above the stage. The countdown clock glowed bright against the night.
“You ready?” the MC called, joining us as other performers crowded the stage. “Ten…nine…”
The crowd roared. Mark shifted closer, his hand finding my waist. I leaned in, feeling his warmth.
“…Three, two, one—Happy New Year!”
Confetti cannons burst, streamers flying as fireworks cracked somewhere behind the stage. Mark laughed against my shoulder as the world rang in the new year around us.
Music surged back to life the moment the countdown ended, loud enough that the stage vibrated beneath our boots.
More performers spilled onto the platform, laughing, dancing, singing along, and for a moment it felt like the entire town had converged in one bright, chaotic place.
Mark turned toward me, shifting us just enough that we were angled away from the crowd. He pulled me in close, shielding us from curious eyes.
Then he dipped his head and pressed a kiss to my temple, quick, like a secret.
“Happy New Year,” he murmured, warm breath brushing my skin.
My wolf stirred immediately, pleased and possessive in that quiet, content way it had whenever Mark touched me like that.
I nuzzled into him without thinking, brushing my nose along his cheek, breathing him in.
“Happy New Year to you too,” I said, voice low.
“Zack!” Ethan’s voice cut through the moment as he jogged up, phone held high. A familiar voice crackled from it.
I squinted as Ethan pushed closer. “Hey?”
Noah’s grin filled the display on the phone screen. “I can’t believe I’m not there. I’m missing everything!”
“It’s great,” Ethan said, turning the phone so Noah could see the crowd behind us. “You definitely shouldn’t miss this next year.”
“Yes!” Noah said immediately, far too enthusiastic. “Absolutely. Next year.”
I blinked. “Next year?”
Ethan glanced at me. “Yeah?”
I hesitated, suddenly unsure how to bring it up. My gaze dropped to the stage floor, then flicked back up, searching their faces.
“I just—” I started, then stopped. “I thought maybe… you know.”
Ethan froze for a beat, brow furrowed. “Zack, you’re not thinking of quitting, are you?”
“Quit?” I laughed, shaking my head. “No! I thought you guys were the ones ready to leave.”
Ethan shook his head, grinning. “You’re kidding. You two sounded amazing. Honestly, I half expected you to bail, not us.”
Mark shifted beside me. “We haven’t really talked about anything yet,” he said, glancing between Ethan and the phone.
I opened my mouth, then paused.
A few days ago, that sentence would’ve sent me spiraling, turning over every worst-case scenario, panicking over a band I wasn’t ready to lose.
But right now, with adrenaline still buzzing under my skin, and Mark’s arm warm at my waist, it didn’t hit the same.
Music was still important to me, and it always would be. But it didn’t feel like something that could vanish overnight anymore.
We didn’t have to decide everything right now. We didn’t have to panic just because the future wasn’t mapped out yet.
“I’ve thought about it,” I said finally, voice steady. “But I don’t think we need to rush into anything.”
A flicker of surprise crossed Mark’s face, before his expression softened into quiet relief.
On the phone, Noah suddenly made a sound that could only be described as a very tightly contained scream.
“—hold on,” he muttered, teeth clenched.
All three of us leaned closer, angling the phone between us as the stage continued to shake under the weight of celebration.
On screen, Noah jogged down a hallway, ducked into what looked like a bathroom, and slammed the door behind him.
He lowered his voice. Or at least tried to.
“We are not breaking up the band,” he hissed, eyes wild. “I need this. This family is insane. They’re talking about doing a food truck crawl next year.”
Ethan choked back a laugh.
“They keep feeding me,” Noah continued, clearly unraveling. “Constantly. I can’t live like this. I need rehearsals. I need gigs. I need structure.”
He leaned closer to the camera. “So I don’t want to hear another word about breaking up. Ever.”
Ethan burst out laughing, and I couldn’t help joining in.
“Okay,” I said quickly. “Fine. Sorry I even brought it up.”
“Good,” Noah said, nodding firmly.
Ethan straightened, glancing around the crowded stage. “Alright, I need to go. It’s going to take a while to squeeze through this mess and get back to my car.”
He smiled at the screen. “Next week? Practice?”
“Same time?” I asked.
“Griffin’s?” Ethan replied.
I nodded. “Go before you get stuck here.”
Ethan waved, ended the call, and disappeared into the crowd, already apologizing as he pushed his way through.
The moment he was gone, I felt Mark’s arm tighten around my waist, pulling me closer.
I leaned back into him, tilting my head slightly. “You know,” I said, “I think we might’ve been the favorite act tonight.”
He laughed softly near my ear. “Yeah?”
“I mean,” I added, glancing at the still-cheering crowd, “clearly.”
“Too bad though,” Mark murmured. “Shame we don’t have another excuse to get back onstage together.”
I hummed thoughtfully. “Shame. Could’ve shown them what else we can do.”
His breath brushed my neck as he leaned in, voice dropping. “Guess I’ll just have you all to myself, then.”
My wolf purred at that, and I smiled as I tipped my head back against his shoulder.
That sounded perfect.