Chapter 18 - Dane
Dane stepped out of his truck and into the late afternoon air, already gritting his teeth, Sam in his arms.
Rick’s manor house sat like a dark monolith at the top of the hill, its stone walls steeped in history and silence.
The sun was beginning to dip below the trees, casting a soft golden light over the wide porch and sweeping lawn, where the smell of grilled meat and the sound of children’s laughter spilled into the air.
It was meant to be a casual pack gathering; a few members of the Green Mountain Pack had been invited over to build stronger ties in the wake of the recent attacks. The children were playing, the adults mingling. The mood should’ve been easy.
It wasn’t.
Dane could feel it the moment he stepped onto the grass. A tightness in his shoulders. An unease in the pit of his stomach. He nodded at Rick, who stood off to the side on the porch. Cold brown eyes tracked everything from behind a glass of whiskey, never lingering too long on any one face.
Typical Rick. The negotiator, the charmer, the predator dressed like a gentleman.
The lawn was a patchwork of folding chairs and picnic blankets.
Felix knelt beside Danny and Logan, adjusting the straps of their boots while keeping an eye on the perimeter.
Nearby, Nicolas stood immaculate as ever, bouncing baby Max in his carrier while Thea played a game with a gurgling Gracie on the porch.
Eva, Rick’s shy little daughter, sat to one side, looking at Thea with something like awe in her gaze.
Dane barely acknowledged anyone. His mood was shot.
A sharp whistle caught his attention.
“You planning to growl at everyone today, or just me?” Felix called, dryly.
Dane grunted. “We’ll see.”
Then he saw them. Three younger Iron Walker alphas by the cooler, laughing too loudly, throwing around stories about border patrols like they were war veterans. Posturing. Showing off. And in front of guests.
John Heath, the Alpha of the Green Mountain Pack, stood talking to some of his alphas near the grill.
He was older, perhaps in his sixties, lean but upright, his silver hair cropped short, eyes like sharpened flint.
His posture spoke of dignity, military pride.
Despite the relative size of his pack, he wasn’t here to kiss Felix’s ring.
The young wolves didn’t seem to care. They cracked open beers, bumping shoulders, talking too loudly.
Dane’s wolf surged forward.
“Hey!” he barked, voice slicing through the conversation. The laughter stopped. The young alphas straightened instinctively.
“You think this is a fucking game? Show some damn respect. There are children here. Guests. Or are your heads too far up your own asses to care about anyone but yourselves?”
A heavy silence fell over the yard. Thea looked up sharply from her game. Logan moved to his twin’s side, his little face uncertain.
Dane didn’t care.
One of the young wolves opened his mouth, but Dane was already moving, handing Sam off to one of the other males.
“You want to play soldier?” he growled, “Then you can do it under my command, and you can start by learning discipline. We are at war. This isn’t some bar brawl where you get to puff up your chests and pretend to be alphas.
If you don’t smarten up, you won’t be on the front lines, you’ll be in the fucking club kitchen, peeling potatoes. ”
“Dane,” Felix warned.
“They’re a liability,” Dane snapped, “and liabilities get people killed.”
Felix rose to his full height. His voice was still calm, but the edge in it could’ve cut stone.
“Enough.”
Dane turned, still bristling, his fists clenched.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Felix asked, loud enough for the others to hear. “You think this helps anything? Acting like a rabid dog in front of the kids? In front of our guests?”
Rick moved then. Quiet as a shadow, leaving his spot in the shadows. He didn’t speak. Just watched. Always watching.
Nicolas handed Max to Thea, smoothing his shirt like he wasn’t about to step into a brewing storm.
Dane’s pulse pounded. The weight of eyes on him burned.
And still, he couldn’t stop himself.
“If they’d take this seriously, I wouldn’t have to say anything.”
“That’s not your call to make in the middle of a pack gathering,” Felix growled. “Get it together, Dane. Now.”
Dane’s jaw clenched. His teeth ground together.
And somewhere beneath the fury, the panic, the protectiveness churning in his gut, he felt it again. The absence of her. Of Lola.
She was out tonight. Out among people. And he wasn’t there to protect her.
His hands shook.
“Let’s talk,” came Rick’s low voice.
Dane didn’t move.
Rick stepped in closer, not threatening, not warm either. But immovable as the ocean.
“Now.”
Nicolas joined them, expression unreadable.
Felix exhaled, muttering something under his breath as he turned back to his kids.
Rick gave Dane a sharp nod. “Come on. Time to explain yourself.”
Dane followed them across the garden without a word, the weight of his guilt heavier than ever.
Rick led the way through the old French doors into the manor’s library. The room was lined wall to wall with dark oak shelves and worn leather-bound books, with a low fire burning in the hearth and the scent of whiskey and ash in the air. Nicolas followed behind Dane, silent and severe.
The moment the door shut behind them, Rick turned. His expression hadn’t changed, calm, cool, and just a little too quiet.
“Want to tell us what the hell that was?”
Dane didn’t answer.
“You humiliated them,” Nicolas said evenly, “and embarrassed the entire pack. In front of an allied alpha, no less.”
“They were behaving like pups,” Dane snapped, “disrespectful, cocky, dangerous. Someone has to keep them in line.”
“And that someone is not you,” Rick said sharply. “At least not like that. We’re not just a pack of warriors anymore, Dane. We’re a diplomatic force. There’s a difference.”
Dane turned to the fire, running a hand through his hair. His muscles ached from tension he couldn’t release. His thoughts felt like shards of broken glass.
“Something’s going on,” Nicolas said, voice quiet, “you’re never this volatile without cause.”
Rick leaned against the edge of a leather chair, “You want to tell us why you’ve been snapping at everyone for the past week? Why do you look like you haven’t slept in three days?”
Dane said nothing.
“Is it about Lola?” Felix’s voice came from the doorway.
Dane stiffened.
He turned to find Felix entering the room, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
“You stormed in here like the damn apocalypse was at your heels. Is it about her?”
Dane’s shoulders dropped.
He sank into one of the chairs and stared into the flames.
“I messed everything up.”
Rick raised an eyebrow. Nicolas said nothing.
“She’s pregnant.”
A beat of silence.
“Fuck,” Rick muttered.
Nicolas sat forward, elbows on his knees. “Yours?”
Dane gave him a flat look.
“Sorry. Reflex.”
Felix was as still as a stone. “She knows?”
“Not until tonight.”
Dane told them everything. The fight, the wall, the anger, the panic. The way he’d tried to control her, the way she’d pushed back, the way her eyes had flamed with pain and fury and heartbreak.
When he was done, the silence was heavy.
“You’re an idiot,” Rick said.
“Thanks.”
“No, I mean it,” Rick said, “you slept with her. Then pushed her away. Then tried to claim her again, the second she became something you couldn’t bear to lose.”
“She’s not a possession,” Felix added, “she’s a shifter. A woman. An academic. She’s part of us now, whether you like it or not.”
Dane exhaled, resting his elbows on his knees, “I know. I just…I didn’t think I could do it. Be with someone. Feel that much. And then when I realized I already did, I panicked.”
“You always do,” Nicolas said.
“Gee, thanks.”
Rick stood and poured three glasses of whiskey, handing them out. “So what now?”
Dane stared into his drink.
“Now I fix it.”
“How?” Felix asked.
“I don’t know,” Dane admitted, “but I know I can’t keep going like this. I miss her. I miss seeing her face light up when Sam giggles. I miss her awkward, snappy little comebacks. I even miss her scowling at me.”
Nicolas sipped his drink, expression unreadable, “Then you better tell her. Before it’s too late.”
Rick nodded toward the window. “And maybe stop treating every threat like it’s a reason to lock her in a tower.”
“I’m trying,” Dane said quietly.
He rose, setting the glass down.
“I’ll talk to her tomorrow. In the morning. No excuses this time.”
The men nodded. Felix gave him a tight smile. Nicolas’s gaze softened. Even Rick looked marginally less frosty.
Nothing pissed him off more than a wrinkle in his diplomatic endeavors, after all.
“I’ve got to get back,” said Felix, “damage control. John’s a hard bastard.”
“We’ll get him on side,” Rick said, his voice viper-smooth, “his pack is in a hell of a lot more danger from Red Teeth and his minions. He needs us.”
Felix’s brow creased. “I’m not so sure.”
Dane followed them back outside into the chilly evening air. The firepit had died down a little, the kids were now chasing each other under the watchful eyes of a few of the older pack members, and John Heath was sitting near the embers, murmuring to one of his wolves.
Dane inhaled deeply.
He still felt the ache of everything he’d said to Lola. Still felt the bruise of her anger, her heartbreak.
But for the first time in days, he also felt something else.
Resolve.
He’d talk to her.
And this time, he wouldn’t run from the truth.
The chill of the evening had begun to lift as the fire pit was coaxed back to life.
Logan and Danny were deep into a stick-sword battle, their whoops echoing across the lawn, while Thea darted between them, trying to referee.
Sam was perched securely on Dane’s hip, chubby fingers wrapped around a toy wolf that Gracie had lent him.
Dane felt…lighter. For the first time in days, maybe weeks.
He’d said the words aloud. He wasn’t proud of how everything had unfolded with Lola, but he knew now what he had to do. Tomorrow, he’d face her. No bravado, no posturing. Just the truth.
Beside him, Nicolas was half-smiling as he tried to wrangle Max, who was making a determined crawl toward the fire pit. Rick stood at the edge of the patio, arms crossed, eyes trained on John Heath.
The Green Mountain Alpha remained seated by the fire, sipping from a flask and watching the chaos around him with cool calculation.
Despite the children’s laughter and the pack’s easy banter, he looked…
removed. Politely distant. Like a guest watching a performance he wasn’t sure he was meant to applaud.
Dane shifted Sam to his other arm and stepped closer to Rick.
“He doesn’t trust us,” Dane muttered.
Rick didn’t look away. “Would you?”
“Felix offered him everything but a blood oath.”
“Exactly,” Rick murmured. “And that’s what makes him nervous. We’re too generous. Too open. He’s wondering what we’re hiding.”
Dane frowned, eyes narrowing on Heath. “Should we be worried?”
“Not yet,” Rick said, “but keep an eye on the younger ones in his pack. They’ve got something to prove. And that makes them reckless.”
A squeal of laughter pulled Dane’s attention back to Sam, who had somehow managed to drop the toy wolf and was now trying to eat the drawstring of Dane’s hoodie.
“Hey, none of that,” he said with a chuckle, gently prying it out of the baby’s mouth.
Sam giggled.
Dane’s chest ached with something warm and unfamiliar. He sat down on the low stone ledge bordering the patio and cradled Sam in both arms.
“You’re a menace,” he murmured, brushing a hand over the baby’s downy curls.
Sam cooed in response.
He wasn’t perfect at this, not even close. There were still moments when the weight of it all threatened to crush him. But somehow, being around Sam made the rest of the world quiet down.
He was worth it. Every sleepless night. Every moment of doubt.
“You look like a natural,” Felix said as he approached, Logan dangling from his arm like a monkey.
Dane shrugged, but a small smile tugged at his lips, “He makes it easy.”
“Enjoy the peace while it lasts,” Nicolas said, joining them with Max now secured in one of the little camping chairs. “Thea just dared Gracie to eat a beetle.”
“Oh God,” Rick muttered, eyes darting to where Eva was coloring in with small, measured movements, entirely polite and well-behaved.
Felix’s phone buzzed.
It was faint. A subtle chime.
But the change in Felix’s posture was immediate. He straightened, eyes dropping to the screen.
And then his face changed.
All humor drained from his features.
“What is it?” Nicolas asked.
Felix didn’t look up.
His thumb slid across the screen. He growled, low and sharp.
“Security at the club is down,” he said. “Cameras went dark ten minutes ago.”
The warmth died.
Dane’s body went rigid.
The Pine Shadow Club.
Lola.