Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Jalen
The sound of the front door closing echoes through the house, followed by Cole’s voice calling back, “We’ll check the cars and clear the driveway!”
I watch from the window as my pack brothers head outside, Dax already surveying the debris scattered across the property with that tactical assessment he does.
Malik has his phone out, probably documenting damage.
Cole is just... being Cole, jumping over a fallen branch like it’s an obstacle course.
The house feels too quiet without them.
Too empty, even though Sierra’s still here somewhere.
I move through the rooms restlessly, unable to settle. My body doesn’t know what to do with itself now that the rut has fully faded. For days, I’ve had a singular focus: take care of Sierra, ease her heat, keep her safe. Now that focus is gone and I’m left with... what?
The awareness that tomorrow we might leave. That this might end before I’ve figured out how to make it not end.
The power flickers once, twice, then surges back on with a hum that sounds almost aggressive after days of running on the generator. Lights brighten throughout the house. The refrigerator, which had been humming steadily, gives a loud clatter as the automatic ice maker kicks back into life.
Normal sounds. Normal power. Normal life creeping back in.
I grab the remote and turn on the TV just to fill the silence, not really caring what’s on. Some afternoon talk show appears, the hosts discussing weekend plans like the world hasn’t just been turned upside down.
I’m staring at the screen without seeing it when I hear her.
Soft footsteps on the hardwood. The whisper of fabric. That honeycomb and cherry syrup scent that’s become as familiar as breathing.
I turn, and there she is.
Sierra’s wrapped in one of the blankets from her nest, pulled tight around her shoulders.
Her hair is still slightly tousled from her nap, falling in soft waves around her face.
She looks... fragile, somehow. Smaller than usual.
There’s a slight tremor running through her that has nothing to do with cold.
Post-heat jitters. I recognize them from helping omega friends through their cycles in college. The hormones don’t just stop cleanly. They spike and dip erratically for a day or two after, leaving omegas shaky and vulnerable and needing alpha presence to help regulate.
“Hey,” I say softly. “Couldn’t sleep?”
She shakes her head, pulling the blanket tighter. “Tried. Just... couldn’t settle. Everything feels wrong.”
“Come here.” I don’t think about it, just open my arms in invitation.
She crosses the room without hesitation and folds herself into my lap, blanket and all. The trust in that simple action makes my chest tight. She fits perfectly against me, her head tucked under my chin, her body curling into mine like she was designed for exactly this position.
I wrap my arms around her and pull her close, and I feel the trembling ease slightly. Not gone, but better. My scent helps. Alpha presence helps. Her omega recognizing an alpha who can help her regulate.
Except it doesn’t feel like just biology anymore.
“Better?” I murmur against her hair.
“Mmm.” She burrows closer. “You’re warm.”
“You’re shaking.”
“Post-heat thing. It’ll pass.” She pauses. “Probably should’ve warned you guys about this part. The jitters are annoying.”
“We can handle annoying.” My hand finds her back, rubbing slow circles through the blanket. “What do you need? Besides warmth?”
“This.” Her voice is muffled against my chest. “This is good.”
We sit like that for a while, her breathing gradually evening out, the trembling in her limbs slowly subsiding. The TV continues its cheerful chatter in the background. Outside, I can hear my pack brothers moving around, their voices occasionally carrying through the walls.
The storm has quieted to a steady rain. A gentle, almost soothing sound. Like the world is washing itself clean.
“Jalen?” Sierra’s voice is soft, tentative.
“Yeah?”
“What are you thinking?”
The question is simple. The answer isn’t.
I could deflect. Make a joke like Cole would. Keep it light and safe. But sitting here with her curled against me, feeling her trust in every point of contact, I find I don’t want to hide anymore.
“That I don’t want this to end,” I say quietly.
Sierra goes very still against me. For a moment, I think I’ve made a mistake, said too much too soon, pushed when I should have waited.
Then she shifts slightly, just enough to look up at me with those light-brown eyes that have been catalogued in my memory for longer than I want to admit.
“Me neither,” she whispers.
My heart does a hard lurch. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She looks away, focusing on her hands where they’re twisted in the blanket. “But it will. Storm’s clearing. Road’s opening. We all have lives to get back to.”
“Doesn’t have to end completely.”
She looks up at me again, surprise clear in her expression. “What do you mean?”
“We could... I don’t know. Figure something out?” Even saying it feels terrifying. Putting it out there. Making it real instead of just a desperate hope I’ve been nursing in private. “Try... something. See where this goes.”
“This?” she repeats, and I can’t read her tone.
“Us. You and... all of us. Pack.” I swallow hard. “If you wanted to.”
Sierra is quiet for a long moment, her fingers tracing absent patterns on my chest through my shirt. I can feel her thinking, processing, weighing options.
“If you’d want that?” I clear my throat. “After everything we did to you? The vendor poaching, the competitive bidding, the—”
For a few moments, she says nothing, and I think I’ve turned my foot into my mouth.
“Jalen...” She trails off, seeming to struggle with something.
“You don’t have to decide anything now,” I say quickly, because I can see the overwhelm building in her eyes. “I just wanted you to know. That this wasn’t just heat for us. For me. That I’d like to see where this could go, if you’re willing.”
“Why?” The question is soft but genuine. “Why me? We’ve been competitors for two years. We’ve made each other’s professional lives difficult. I’ve—”
“You’ve been amazing,” I interrupt. “Do you have any idea how impressive you are? How we’d watch you at events and conferences, trying to figure out how you did it? How you connected with clients, created these incredible experiences?”
Her eyes widen. “You noticed that?”
“Of course I noticed.” The confession is pouring out now, and I can’t stop it. “I’ve noticed everything about you, Sierra. For longer than I probably should admit.”
“How long?”
I take a breath. This is it. The moment where I either retreat to safety or take the leap.
I’ve never been great at leaps.
But for her? I’ll try.
“Since the first time we met,” I admit quietly. “At that conference two years ago. You were talking to some vendors about community-centered event planning, and you were so passionate, so articulate, and I just... I couldn’t look away.”
Sierra’s staring at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Two years?”
“I know. It’s—”
“You’ve had a crush on me for two years?”
The word ‘crush’ makes me wince slightly, but yeah, that’s basically what it was. “When you put it like that, it sounds kind of pathetic.”
“It sounds sweet.” Her voice has gone soft, wondering. “I had no idea.”
“You weren’t supposed to.” I attempt a smile. “I’m good at observing from a distance. Not so good at actually doing anything about it.”
“But you’re doing something now.”
“Now is different.” My arms tighten around her. “Now I know what it’s like to have you in my arms. To hear you laugh. To take care of you. I can’t go back to just watching from across the lawn at events.”
“Jalen.” My name is barely a whisper. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know. That this matters. That you matter. That—”
She kisses me.
Just leans up and presses her lips to mine, cutting off whatever rambling confession I was building toward. The kiss is soft at first, tentative, like she’s testing something.
Then it deepens.
Her hands come up to frame my face, fingers sliding into my hair, and I’m lost. Just completely and utterly lost in the taste of her, the feel of her, the way she makes this small sound against my mouth that goes straight through me.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard. Sierra’s cheeks are flushed, her eyes dark, and she’s looking at me like she’s seeing me for the first time.
“I’ve been noticing you, too,” she says quietly, “at those conferences, those events. The way you watched everything so carefully. How you always seemed to know exactly what clients needed before they asked. How you were kind even when we were competitors.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She shifts in my lap, and I realize the blanket has fallen away.
She’s just in that soft sleep shirt and shorts, and I’m hyperaware of every point of contact between us.
“I told myself I couldn’t think about you like that.
That we were rivals. That it would be unprofessional and complicated and wrong. ”
“And now?”
“Now I’ve spent days in your arms. Now I know what you look like when you’re being gentle. When you’re trying so hard to take care of me, even though your rut was screaming at you. Now I’ve heard your voice when you’re soft and sweet and everything I didn’t know I needed.”
My heart is pounding so hard I’m surprised she can’t hear it. “Sierra—”
“I’m still shaking,” she interrupts, and I realize she is. The trembling has returned, her whole body vibrating with those post-heat jitters. “My hormones are all over the place, and I need...”
She trails off, but I understand. She needs an alpha’s presence. Needs to be grounded, regulated, soothed in the way only an alpha can during these hormone spikes.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur, pulling her closer. “What do you need, sweetheart?”
“You.” The word is simple, but it hits like a freight train. “I need you, Jalen.”