Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Six months later
The cabin smells of cedar, smoke, and cold mountain air.
I step through the door and pause, letting the quiet settle into my bones.
The place looks like it’s grown straight out of the forest from the inside.
Thick wooden beams cross overhead, dark with age and carved by time.
The floors are wide planks of weathered oak, their surfaces softened by years of footsteps.
Worn rugs in deep reds and browns stretch across the boards, their patterns faded but proud.
To the right, a stone hearth rises almost to the rafters with a black iron stove tucked into the corner beside it.
A neat stack of split firewood climbs the wall like a carefully built tower, thanks to Nyx.
Right past it sits a heavy wooden table with four mismatched chairs, a wrought iron chandelier hanging above it like something pulled out of an old western lodge.
Shelves line one wall, filled with books, glass jars and old lanterns.
Bookcases line the back corner, now dusted and stuffed full of my collection.
Beyond that, the back door looks out into the blur of the pines and mountain mist. And above it all, a cozy loft stretches across the far wall, it’s railing twining like wild vines of timber.
Bear and Nina stagger through the door with the armory cabinet. “Tell me again,” he grunts, ducking under the beam above the doorway, “why the first piece of furniture we’re putting in your peaceful sanctuary is a military-grade armory.”
The armory is enormous. Solid steel, matte black, easily seven foot tall and wide enough to hold half a small militia.
“It’s not an armory,” I mumble, “it’s organized preparedness.”
Bear’s face is already red.
Nina, on the other hand, looks mostly annoyed. “Don’t drop it,” she snaps.
“I’m not dropping it,” Bear shoots back. “You’re the one breathing like a dying walrus.”
They shuffle forward another few feet. I lean casually against the wall, soaking it all in.
“Oh look,” Bear glares. “The homeowner. Standing there supervising.”
“You look like you’ve got it handled,” I shrug.
Cici bursts through the door behind them in a whirlwind of shopping bags, breathing harder than Bear. “So!” she sings brightly. “I may have gone a little overboard.”
She drops three large bags onto the floor. Matt grunts behind her, boxes stacked under his chin, Kova slips in behind him. Her paws tap quietly across the wood floors as she circles the room once, nose lifting as she takes in the new space.
I gape. “Cici.”
“Yes?”
“You bought me clothes?” I tilt my head, trying to count the layers. “…a lot of clothes.”
“Correction,” she says proudly, brushing hair from her face. “I bought you things you’ll actually wear.”
I raise an eyebrow.
Nina chuckles, abandoning Bear. “Oh, this I gotta see.”
Matt sets the boxes down carefully on the dining table as Cici begins dumping the bags. Boots. Flannels. Dark jeans. Thermal shirts. A heavy wool coat. Nina nods approvingly.
“Clothes that match the mountain assassin,” Nina approves.
Bear wipes sweat from his forehead as he finally wrestles the armory cabinet against the wall. The metal clangs softly as it settles into place. Bear steps back, placing his hands on his hips. “There,” he breathes.
Nina leaves the table, inspecting the armory like a drill sergeant. “Crooked.”
Bear groans, tossing his arms into the air. “Are you kidding me?”
“One inch,” Cici whispers.
“That is not one inch.”
Nina shoves the cabinet with her shoulder. “Now it’s straight,” she grunts.
Bear rolls his eyes, wiping the sweat from his face with the sleeve of his shirt and points at her. “You’re enjoying this.”
She grins. “A little.”
I fold my arms, watching them quietly. He straightens, stepping over to the pile of clothes. He leans over, hooking a strap of something foreign in the crook of his finger as if he were holding a small bass.
“That’s a dress?” Bear looks at me.
I look at Cici, horrified at the lace fabric before me.
“Yes,” she chirps. “Well, sort of.”
I look back to him. “Don’t start.”
He drops it, holding up both hands. “I didn’t say anything!”
I push off the wall, throwing a thermal over it. “You were about to.”
“I was about to say,” Bear replies solemnly, “that I’m happy you finally own something that doesn’t come with a holster.”
Cici tosses a sweater at him. “Stop teasing her!”
A throat clears behind us. “You expecting company?” Matt says, peaking behind the curtain. Before I can answer, a truck engine rumbles right outside the door.
My dad’s old truck sits in the clearing with a small trailer hitched behind it.
He climbs out first, squinting toward the cabin.
Nyx steps out of the back passenger side, shutting the door with that quiet, controlled movement that always makes him look like he personally owns the space around him.
He opens the passenger door, extending a hand for Rosemary.
“What’s going on?” I ask, stepping onto the porch.
“Florence!” My stepmother lights up, gathering me into her arms.
I squeeze her tight, “I’m so glad you came.”
She releases me, pressing her hand gently to my cheek. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
My dad grins. “Well,” he says, jutting his thumb toward the trailer, “we figured your place was missing a little something.”
Bear and Nina walk out behind me. Nyx circles the trailer and drops the tailgate.
My breath hitches. The vanity sits there like something pulled straight out of a memory.
Cream-colored wood. Curved legs. The oval mirror framed with delicate carvings.
My mother’s vanity. I haven’t seen it in years.
Kova nudges my leg beside me, her presence reassuring.
I step back, pressing my fingers to my lips. “It’s perfect,” I whisper.
Nyx slips past me, planting a quick kiss to my cheek, Bear follows as he quickly mimics Nyx, his red beard scratching my cheek. I reach up, smacking him hard in the back of the head. The men easily carry it out of the trailer into the cabin as I follow behind with the chair.
“Where’s it going?” Nyx asks.
I hesitate a moment, but point to the bedroom door. He pushes it open. Rough timber walls glow amber in the firelight from a small cast-iron stove tucked in the corner. A large bed sits beneath two square windows, thick blankets piled high and a fur throw draped across the top.
The ceiling beams arch low overhead, dark and heavy, like the ribs of an old ship.
A wooden chest rests at the foot of the bed.
Bear and Nyx set the vanity down gently near the window.
The glass glows softly as I step closer, running my fingers along the edge.
I smile privately at the memory, her Heavenly voice warming my ears.
Bear clears his throat. “Well,” he says gruffly, “now the place looks like someone lives here and not just a haunted mountain hooger.”
My dad steps in, reading glasses on the tip of his nose, holding his phone out at arm’s length. He slowly holds it out farther. Then farther.
Bear watches him for a second, then bursts into laughter. “Marshall, you gonna read it or send it to space?”
My dad only squints harder. “‘Me and Cici are going to town,’” he half-yells.
Nina slips in behind him, carrying a small tote. “Cici showed her your new wardrobe and Rosemary decided she wanted in on the action.”
My dad shakes his head, thumbs tapping slowly as he types.
“Do you need me to translate the emojis too?” Bear peers over his shoulder.
My dad snorts. “What the hell are emojis?”
Bear claps him on the shoulder, a deep laugh rumbling from his throat. “Come on, old man. Billy’s been waiting to see you anyway.”
“Shot gun!” Nina calls, bolting for the stairs.
Their voices spill out of the door, the cabin finally silencing as the door closes.
Only the soft crackle of the fire remains.
I exhale slowly and lower myself onto the small wooden chair of the vanity.
The mirror reflects someone I recognize and someone I’m still getting used to seeing.
Not Vanguard. Not the woman who spent years looking over her shoulder for every doorway and shadow. Just Florence.
Behind me, the floor creaks softly. Nyx steps up behind me, resting his hands on my shoulders. He runs them down my arms gently, placing his chin on the top of my head. I reach up, cupping the side of his cheek. He places a soft kiss to my scarred palm. “Home,” I whisper.