Chapter 17
CADE
Driving to Solara with so many non-shifters isn’t something I could have ever foreseen in my future.
At least not until I met Rowan.
Seeing the smile on her face, knowing that for this moment, nothing else matters, I wouldn’t have things any other way.
I just hope the elders were right and we’re going to be welcomed this time.
When we arrive, my hands tighten over the steering wheel, but the moment Rowan reaches for me, not only with a simple touch, but through our bond, every muscle in my body softens.
I nod her way, silently thanking her, as I park the SUV in front of the pack house.
We start to get out, and I pause, taking in a deep inhale as I open my door.
Solara smells the same. Pine and earthy and warm. I hear running water somewhere beyond the pack house, pups playing with one another, and the sound of heavy paws hitting the dirt as they run closer.
Home.
The realization hits harder than I’m prepared for.
It’s going to be different this time, my wolf hums with approval.
A few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have thought so. All I had left were bad memories, but now I’m seeing that things can be different if we let them.
The past doesn’t control our future.
Going around to the front, Rowan meets me with Archie draped around her neck. She takes my hand, and the contact is everything I need.
“Are you ready for take two?” Her grin is pure and sassy.
“Not sure we have a choice.”
She laughs. “I mean…yes and no. We could walk away again, but I don’t think they’re going to let you go so easily this time.”
Her gaze moves toward the side of the pack house where more wolves are coming, half in human form, half still on four legs.
“A welcoming party?” Liz lets out a low whistle. “They shouldn’t have.”
“Or they’re just trying to get us to let our guards down before they drug us and feed us to the chickens.” Iris stands to the side, watching everyone with a well-placed sneer.
“Honestly, Mother.” Jocelyn sighs from Marius’s side. “They’re not barbarians.”
“But they are beasts,” the old crone grumbles.
It’s easy to ignore, especially as I feel my connection to the pack pulse with life. I’d ignored it for too long in the past and tried to hold on too tight when we were here last.
I didn’t think this place would ever feel like mine again. Not after the way I left. Not after the way they looked at me when I came back. But the wolves gathered near the main house don’t look wary.
They look…relieved.
A few more of the wolves shift as we step forward, their claws sinking briefly into the dirt before reforming into their human selves with steady, grounded stances.
Still, beneath their straight shoulders and kind gazes, I sense the nerves.
Instinct, trying to decide whether to greet or remain guarded.
My wolf presses forward inside me, alert but not aggressive.
Elias arrived before us with the other wolves, and he steps out from the cluster first, stopping a few feet away like he’s giving me space to decide how this moment goes.
“Alpha,” he says, simple and solid.
No hesitation. No doubt.
Yet, the word lands differently this time.
He doesn’t say it like a duty. He says it like a choice. One I hope they’ve all made on their own.
I nod once. “Elias.”
His gaze shifts to Rowan next, respect just as steady. “Luna.”
Rowan blinks, clearly not expecting it to hit like that—neither was I—but she recovers fast, offering a warm smile.
Behind him, movement starts. Subtle at first, then building. One of the older wolves steps forward, holding out a wrapped bundle.
“Alpha. Luna,” she says, almost nervously. “For your private space within the pack house.”
I accept the gift without hesitation, surprised by its weight.
Hand-carved wood, our pack crest burned deep into the surface. Thoughtful and time-consuming work.
“Thank you,” Rowan says for us as I trace my fingers over the wolf’s head carved at the center, its eyes set forward beneath a spreading sun, the burn lines dark and permanent, like something meant to outlast every shifter who ever carried it.
More wolves step forward after that.
Food. Blankets. Tools. Things meant to last. Things meant to mean something. They’re not just accepting us back.
They’re building us into the pack.
Rowan squeezes my hand once, and I feel her emotions ripple through the bond—warm, stunned, and overwhelmed in the best way.
My chest tightens.
I almost walked away from this forever. I almost convinced myself I didn’t deserve it.
Elias steps closer, lowering his voice. “We prepared the master suite. It’s ready for both of you.”
We’re really doing this.
I swallow once and nod. “Good.”
Then I look out over the gathered wolves—our wolves—and let the silence settle just long enough to mean something.
“We run tonight,” I say, my voice steady and carrying easily.
A ripple moves through the crowd.
Relief. Excitement. Anticipation. Unity.
“Together as a pack,” I add, “One ready to show the world we’re not to be forgotten.”
This time, the answering energy rolls back at me like a living thing.
I’ve made plenty of mistakes over the years, but as I stand here now, with Rowan by my side and the pack filling my chest, I know all of it led me here.
As they start to disperse, I’m not sure where to start first, but as long as it’s not paperwork, I don’t care.
“I’m going to help get everyone else settled,” Rowan tells me. “My wolf wants you to know that she’s very impressed and can’t wait to run with yours tonight.”
That has mine panting like a love-sick pup, begging to be let out. “He’s eager as well.”
Though, as Rowan snickers, I frown.
Don’t you dare make a fool of us tonight, I grumble to my wolf.
Loving our mate could never be foolish.
He’s not wrong there.
“Let me help with the boxes,” I say, but she shakes her head.
“Jonah and some of the others already offered.” She glances back at the small moving truck. “Let them.”
I nod, knowing that’s the right call. “I’ll get all of this put away then.”
Elias steps in. “Already on it.”
Apparently, I’m needed nowhere. Maybe it is paperwork for me. I could also make a few phone calls that are possibly overdue to the other council members.
“All right,” I say, trying to hide my disappointment. “I’ll be in my office.”
Rowan kisses my cheek. “Or you could mingle.”
I glance back to notice some of the pack members still hanging around. “I can do that, but I have one call to make first.”
I never did talk to Brynn in Glacier Crest after we saved Jocelyn. She got Elias’s text and has reached out since then according to him, but I haven’t made time to return her call. As much as I didn’t care about asking for permission, I should still apologize for the slight.
Rowan presses a hand to my chest as she pushes up onto her toes and kisses my cheek. “Don’t be long.”
I watch her walk away, joining Liz, Dean, and Jonah as they discuss whose boxes to unpack and deliver first. Iris inserts herself and I gladly turn toward the pack house, thankful not to deal with that.
While I’ve grown to tolerate the old woman, I can only do so in moderation. Thankfully, she’s not moving here permanently.
Iris made it clear to the rest of us on the way here that she’d be reclaiming her throne as soon as “ol’ RikRot is a pile of ash.” Her words, not mine.
Though, her nickname for the bastard has a ring to it.
I get to my office and am barely through the door before I hear my name called.
“Can I have a word with you?” Jocelyn is in there. Alone.
“Is everything okay?”
Her grin doesn’t make me feel any better. “I just wanted to chat with you.”
She comes in, moving past me without saying another word.
I close the door fully behind her, leaning back against my desk for a second as she studies the office like she’s memorizing every detail, seeing what she can learn from them.
When she seems bored of that, Jocelyn moves farther into the room, slow but steady. Still recovering, but she also insists on showing her own strength.
“I’ll be honest,” she says, folding her arms loosely, cracking a smile. “I rehearsed a much more intimidating version of this conversation.”
I huff a quiet laugh. “And what conversation would that be?”
“The one about you being my daughter’s mate.”
Ah. This makes more sense now. Normally, I would have expected this to come from Marius, but knowing Rowan, I can’t be surprised by this either.
“So, what did you rehearse before?” I ask, keeping my tone light.
She tilts her head. “Something about a shovel. Possibly a poisoned drink. Definitely consequences.”
“Reasonable,” I say. “I’d expect nothing less after all you’ve been through.”
She watches me for another long second.
Not hostile but not warm either. More evaluation.
“I’m not here to threaten you, Cade,” she says finally. “Rowan would hate that. And frankly, if I thought you were capable of hurting her, I wouldn’t be talking to you at all.”
Understandable.
“I just need to know one thing,” she continues.
I straighten slightly. “Ask away.”
Her gaze sharpens. “If she has to burn your world down for the people she loves, are you going to try to stop her?”
I don’t answer right away because that’s the wrong question.
And Jocelyn knows it.
“She’s certainly not doing it alone,” I say finally.
Something in her expression shifts. Not exactly approval, but closer to understanding.
“Rowan won’t need anyone to save her,” Jocelyn says quietly. “But she’ll need someone to remind her that hard choices aren’t meant to be carried alone.”
“I know,” I say. “And I won’t leave her with that burden.”
She studies me for another second, then nods once.
“Good,” she says. “Because she already chose you, and I’ll never stand in the way of that, but I have no problem making you miserable at the same time.”
I match her grin. “I thought you weren’t here to threaten?”
“Touché.” She moves toward the door. “But more than that, I’m just making sure you understand my daughter, maybe even more than she does herself.”
Jocelyn leaves on her own, closing the door behind her. I drop into my desk chair, taking a moment for myself, but it doesn’t last long when I spot a note on my desk from Elias.
Scribbled on a plain sheet of paper, it reads, “Bram called and said he’d see you soon.”
Nothing about why or when exactly, just soon.
Great. That’s all I need as we’re trying to settle in and decide what we’re doing about Malrik next.
My door opens again, but this time, it’s a welcome disruption.
Rowan enters with narrowed eyes. “Where’s my mother?”
“You just missed her.” I’m up and closing the distance between us before I finish speaking. “Don’t worry. She didn’t harm me.”
“Dad told me she came to have ‘the talk’ with you,” she grumbles, adorably so. “Like I’m fifteen again.”
“And you love every minute of it.”
She might be complaining, but I sense her underlying joy through our connection, and nothing could make me happier.
“Maybe, but still.”
Once again, my office is opened by another person I don’t expect.
Iris barges in, looking entirely too pleased with herself, and uncaring that she’s interrupted us.
“Just letting you know that I’m off to take a nap since your pack of overgrown fur missiles is probably going to keep me up tonight,” she announces like any of us will miss her. “Oh, and I invited a friend to stop by.”
Rowan’s wide gaze meets mine and I know we’re thinking the same thing.
With a raised brow, she asks. “What friend?”
“A sorcer—”
I cut her off. “Absolutely not.”
“An old lady has her head messed with one time and all of sudden…” Iris rolls her eyes. “You want this friend to visit. I promise.”
I’m too busy trying to convince myself not to snap her neck again when Rowan asks, “Why?”
Iris’s smirk is all too proud. “She’s a past acquaintance of ol’ RikRot.”
That does absolutely nothing to make me feel better.