Chapter 58
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
SASHA
Flynn hums to himself in the kitchen, swaying a little while he stirs something in a saucepan. It smells like cinnamon and sugar, and I swear he’s glowing again.
It stops me in my tracks.
He’s happy.
Not just calm or content— happy .
“Hey,” I say softly, stepping into the kitchen.
He turns, smiling, spoon still in hand. “Hi, love.”
I cross the room in three strides and rest a hand on his lower back, eyes narrowing slightly as I scan him for any signs of pain, stress—anything off.
“Just because we’re bonded,” I murmur, “doesn’t mean we’re done protecting you. You’re still healing, Flynn.”
“I know.” He leans into my touch, eyes soft. “But for the first time, I don’t feel like I have to run.”
I don't say anything to that. Just press a kiss to his cheek and let myself feel it for a second—this thing we’ve built. It’s real. He’s safe. And it’s not going anywhere.
Levi walks in, shrugging off his cut like it personally offended him. “Just got off the phone with Gears,” he says.
Flynn perks up. “Everything okay?”
Levi nods, then glances at me. “I’m officially a nomad Renegade. Gears pushed it through. Means I can come and go as I want while we keep lying low after the whole Allegra and Tom mess.”
I grin and grab Levi by the collar, pulling him down for a hard, fast kiss. “Good. We can have you all to ourselves for a while.”
Flynn snickers and goes back to his cinnamon situation, whatever it is. “So what’s next?” he asks over his shoulder.
“I want you to meet my best friend,” I say.
His brows lift. “The infamous Nadia you talk about all the time?”
I smirk. “Wait ‘til you meet her.”
I text Nadia, and an hour later, her pack rolls up like they’ve been waiting outside this whole time.
Dexter, Clay, Ranger, Owen—and sweet little Wulfe, toddling behind Ranger with his unsteady little legs, arms lifted for balance. He makes a soft squealy sound as he spots me and lifts his hands.
I don’t wait. I crouch down and scoop him up, bouncing him gently in my arms as he giggles and kicks his sock-covered feet.
“Uncle Flynn,” I say, turning to my mate with Wulfe’s drooly chin resting on my shoulder, “meet Wulfe.”
Flynn’s whole expression softens. “Oh, my god. Hi, baby!” he coos, stepping closer and wiggling his fingers toward the toddler.
Wulfe squeals again and reaches toward him, grabbing Flynn’s hand with a baby-tight grip.
“And Wulfey,” I say, nuzzling my nose into his curls, “this is your new Uncle Flynn. He’s soft and smells like oranges, and you’re gonna love him.”
Flynn laughs. “I do not smell like oranges.”
Wulfe claps like that’s the best thing he’s ever heard.
Flynn looks at me, eyes shining. “I can’t wait for us to have a baby. You’re gonna be so sexy pregnant.”
I gasp, jaw dropping. “Flynn!”
He just laughs, shameless.
I roll my eyes and gesture to the rest of the crew. “Flynn, meet the rest of my chaotic support system. That’s Dexter, Clay, Ranger, and Owen. And the badass in the middle is Nadia.”
Nadia smiles, steps in, and wraps Flynn in a warm hug. “If you ever need anything—or just someone to talk to who gets it —I’m here. Let me give you my number.”
Flynn takes her phone and leans toward me, whispering, “Okay, but did you and your best friend mandate that all your alphas be drop-dead sexy?”
I snort.
“And what is it with hot betas?” he adds, winking at Nadia. “Sasha and your Owen are delicious.”
Nadia giggles. “It’s a talent.”
The guys head out to the back patio with Levi and Stone to grill and drink beer, leaving us inside. I help Nadia settle Wulfe on the rug in the living room with a pile of soft blocks and those weird toys that stack into rings. He babbles to himself, drooling on a plastic giraffe as he flops onto his belly.
The three of us settle on the couch.
Nadia leans back, arm draped over the back of the cushion. “Just checked in on Cassia. She’s doing better. Still in therapy, but she’s stable.”
I nod. “Good. She deserves some peace.”
Flynn’s curiosity sparks. “Who’s Cassia?”
Nadia meets his gaze gently. “A friend. We rescued her from a serial killer. He had her locked in his basement. Torturing her.”
Flynn blanches but nods, firm. “Whatever she needs, I’ll help. However I can.”
I lean over and kiss his cheek. “That’s why we love you.”
Nadia gives me a knowing smile. “Speaking of needing help…”
I perk up. “Do not tease me with that tone. What’s up?”
“There’s an underground auction happening soon. Rumor is, they’re selling omegas who aren’t… omega enough. Too aggressive. Too wild. They’re sold off like property. Used for whatever.”
A slow grin spreads across my face.
“Point me and my stabby friends in the right direction,” I say, stretching my arms like I’m warming up for a fight. “We’ll handle it.”
* * *
The scent of grilled meat fills the backyard, thick and smoky, mixing with the sound of laughter and clinking bottles. Stone is manning the grill like he owns the damn thing, tongs in one hand, beer in the other, looking way too smug about the perfectly seared burgers. Flynn sits at the table in Levi’s hoodie, legs tucked up beside him, feeding Wulfe little pieces of hot dog while making airplane noises. Wulfe giggles every time and slaps his chubby hands on the tray like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard.
Clay and Ranger are going back and forth with Levi, voices getting louder with every sentence.
“I’m telling you, the Thunderhawk 920 is the cleanest ride on the market,” Clay says, waving a beer like it’s proof.
Levi rolls his eyes. “It rides like a shopping cart with a squeaky wheel. You want performance and power, you go with the Venom C-Class. Hands down.”
Ranger groans dramatically. “You guys are all dumb. None of that tech crap matters. It’s about the feel . You ride a bike like you ride a woman—full throttle, no overthinking.”
“You ride like a guy who’s trying to impress himself in the mirror,” Levi shoots back.
Laughter echoes through the yard.
On the patio couch, Owen sits beside Dexter, curled up with his knees tucked under him, sipping from a hard cider while Dexter grins like a man completely wrecked by love. The way Owen’s shoulder rests against his, the way their fingers brush on the armrest—it’s all so easy. So good.
And it hits me all at once—how damn happy I am that my now brother-in-law has a beta like Owen to make him feel that safe. That wanted.
Nadia flops down beside me on the patio loveseat, her beer bottle sweating in her hand. She nudges me with her shoulder. “This is nice.”
“Yeah,” I say, watching Flynn tilt his head and laugh at something Stone says across the table. “It really is.”
Dinner is loud. Messy. Clay spills mustard. Flynn tries to convince Wulfe that pickles are not evil they’re delicious . Levi steals food off my plate and I stab him in the thigh with a fork. He takes it as foreplay. Typical.
When it’s finally time to go, Nadia rounds up her crew with a whistle and one sharp, “Move it, boys.” They grumble but start collecting Wulfe’s toys and rounding up their trash.
We all walk them to the front, the SUV already rumbling in the driveway like it’s ready to roll. Nadia’s crew piles in with leftover plates and a couple beers for the road. Wulfe’s strapped into his car seat, chattering to himself and waving a block around like it's a microphone.
Nadia hangs back for a second, pulling Flynn into another hug.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “For loving my best friend. She needed it. She didn’t think she deserved it. She struggles, you know? With the new murdery side of herself. But you’re good for her. You all are.”
Flynn nods, quiet.
Then Nadia straightens and yells over her shoulder, “You too, Stone! Thanks for taking care of this major pain in my ass!”
Stone barks a laugh and gives her a mock salute. “Anytime, sweetheart.”
“Asshole!” I shout, socking her in the arm as I pass her a baby wipe. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have your damn pack. You better worship my little beta ass.”
She grins, smug as hell. “Baby, if I went that way, you’d be my number one pack member.”
The Skarlanthan boys behind her all growl low in their throats. Clay looks like he’s ready to toss her over his shoulder and take her home caveman-style.
Nadia just winks. “Better go. I think I might get punished at home.”
I laugh and give her a playful swat on the butt as she sashays to the car, hips swinging. “Slut.”
“You love me.”
“Unfortunately.”
When their car disappears down the driveway, we start cleaning up. Levi rinses the plates, Stone wipes down the grill, Flynn gathers leftovers and covers them in foil like it’s a sacred ritual. We move around each other easily now. Like a pack. Like a family.
Eventually, we all pile into the nest—because it’s the only place we fit right now. Flynn’s curled against me, half under my arm, Stone’s foot shoved between my thighs like a damn heating pad, and Levi’s shoulder pillowed under my head.
I stare up at the ceiling, the shadows dancing softly across the old plaster, everyone else breathing slow and steady around me. My mind drifts.
We’ve talked about finding a new place. Something bigger. Something that’s ours , not just mine. A real pack home.
A forever place.
One with room to grow and run and raise hell and babies.
Because I haven’t told them yet—but Flynn’s words earlier? They meant more to me than they know.
I do want that.
I want to give them babies. Lots of them. I want to fill our home with love and chaos and tiny versions of Stone’s stubborn scowl, Flynn’s sunshine eyes, and Levi’s feral grin.
I want it all.
Maybe this place could be a safe house.
A fresh start. For omegas who need a place to land. Betas too. Single parents. Anyone running from something ugly and trying to build something better.
A house like this saved Flynn.
Maybe now it can save someone else.
We’ll build our future somewhere new.
I fall asleep dreaming of nurseries and laughter and walls lined with muddy boots and messy handprints. A home full of pack and promise.
A home full of us .
* * *
I wake up to the weight of Flynn tangled half on top of me like a clingy little heat pillow. His cheek is pressed to my shoulder, his breath warm against my skin. Stone’s still snoring softly behind me, and Levi’s arm is draped over both of us like a protective bracket.
But my brain is buzzing .
That dream—the name, the structure, the fire of it all—it didn’t fade when I opened my eyes. If anything, it hit harder.
I gently slide out from under Flynn and pad into the kitchen. Pour a mug of coffee. Breathe in. Exhale.
By the time the boys come wandering in one by one, yawning and rubbing sleep from their faces, I’ve already scribbled a rough draft of the whole thing on the back of yesterday’s grocery list.
Flynn’s the first to notice.
“Whatcha got there, love?” he asks, sliding up beside me and stealing a sip of my coffee like it’s his.
“A plan,” I say.
Stone raises a brow. “For breakfast?”
“No. For everything.” I tap the paper. “I’ve been thinking about moving again. About this house. And what happens after we leave.”
Levi leans against the counter, watching me closely. “Go on.”
“Now that the Foundation’s head honcho is out of commission—” I pause to let that part hang in the air. We all know how that ended. “—omegas still need help. Real help. Not the creepy control shit they were doing. And not just omegas. Betas. Anyone trying to survive something they shouldn’t have had to.”
Flynn sets down the coffee mug gently. “You want to turn this place into a shelter?”
“Bigger than that,” I say, the words tumbling out now. “This place can be the first one. A safe house. But the dream? It’s bigger. I want to start something called Heat Wave .”
Stone blinks. “Heat Wave?”
“Yeah.” I grin. “It came to me in a dream. It’s a center—a network, really—for anyone, but especially omegas. A place they can call when they’re scared or overwhelmed or in heat and don’t know who the fuck to trust.”
I grab the list and read from the top like it’s gospel.
“Call us anytime. Our intake line is open 24/7. You tell us your symptoms, heat dates, and what you're looking for—security, medical care, bonding, scent aid, whatever. We match you with a certified helper based on what you want.”
Flynn’s eyes go wide. “Like a scent match service?”
“Yes!” I slap the paper. “Profile-based or scent-driven. You come to the clinic—or we come to you. Trained support alphas, betas, even fellow omegas if needed. And if you want extra oversight? We offer a moderator. Someone who sits in, keeps the session safe. No funny business.”
Stone rubs a hand over his jaw, interested now. “You’d train people for this?”
“Only the best,” I say. “Screened, skilled, trauma-informed. Every helper vetted. They don’t get through the door without proof that they know how to keep their hands and their knots to themselves unless invited.”
Levi whistles low. “You thought this all up in a dream?”
“Every part.” I laugh, heart racing. “But it feels right. Like... real right. And this house? We make it the first branch. Start local. Then grow.”
Flynn’s already pulling his phone out. “You need a logo. A website. Oh my god, we’re gonna need application forms and a hotline and—wait, do we get little uniforms?”
“Only if they’re slutty,” I tease, poking his side.
He beams. “Obviously.”
Levi steps forward and presses a kiss to my temple. “This is good, Sasha. Like... big good.”
Stone grins and clinks his mug against mine. “Look at you. Murder kitten turned CEO of Heat Wave, Inc.”
I snort. “I still stab people.”
“Yeah, but now it’s for charity.”
We all laugh, but the warmth doesn’t fade. It settles deep in my chest like something permanent.
This is real . And we’re gonna do it.
Heat Wave:
Where you call when you need someone you can trust.
Where your heat doesn’t make you weak.
Where safety and choice come first.
Where healing begins, and the future starts.
Right here.
In this little house.
The one that saved Flynn.
The one that’s about to save so many more.