Epilogue Rand
There are moments in a Wolf's life that define him.
His first shift.
His first hunt.
The day he swears loyalty to his Alpha.
Finding his mate.
Standing outside Maccon Manor with Daria's hand tucked safely inside mine, I know this belongs on that list.
“You nervous?” She asks, looking up at me.
I squeeze her fingers.
“A little.”
She laughs.
“I thought Werewolves weren't supposed to get nervous.”
I grin.
“Yeah, but I'm not the Alpha.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
Truth is, I'm not worried about Rafe.
He's already given me permission to tell her the truth.
I'm worried about whether Daria will feel like she belongs here.
Because she does.
She just doesn't know it yet.
Maccon Manor sits proudly beneath the afternoon sun, every bit as imposing as it had the first time my father brought me here as a pup.
“It's beautiful,” Daria whispers.
“It is.”
“But...”
She looks towards the woods.
“...it also kind of looks like the house in every horror movie.”
I laugh.
“Honey.”
“What?”
“Please don't tell the Alpha that.”
“No promises.”
The front door swings open before we can knock.
Charley Maccon steps outside wearing jeans, boots, and the warmest smile I've ever seen.
“There you are!”
She hurries down the steps and, before Daria has time to react, wraps her in a hug.
“Welcome.”
Daria blinks in surprise before awkwardly hugging her back.
“Uh, thank you?”
Charley smiles.
“I've been looking forward to meeting you properly.”
“I've technically already fainted on your property.”
“We don't count first impressions around here.”
That earns a laugh from Daria.
Good.
Inside, Maccon Manor feels exactly like home should.
Warm.
Busy.
Lived in.
Somewhere upstairs I hear children laughing.
Dogs barking.
Someone arguing about cookies.
Daria glances around.
“This is...”
She smiles.
“Loud.”
Rafe's deep laugh carries from the adjoining room.
“That means you're hearing it correctly.”
The Alpha walks in with the easy confidence of a man completely comfortable in his own skin.
Tall.
Powerful.
Protective.
His blue eyes settle on Daria.
Then soften.
“Daria Woods.”
She straightens instinctively.
“Mr. Maccon.”
He snorts.
“Please.”
“I'm Rafe.”
“And unless you're about to put me in timeout, you don't need the mister.”
She laughs.
“I think your wife already likes me.”
“She collects strays.”
“I heard that,” Charley calls from the kitchen.
“It's true,” Rafe answers.
“I resemble that remark!” she shouts back.
Daria looks at me.
“They're adorable.”
“I know,” I reply with a warm smile.
Rafe gestures toward the sitting room.
“Come on.”
We settle onto oversized leather furniture while Charley returns carrying coffee, tea, and a plate of homemade cookies.
Daria's eyes widen.
“Are those chocolate chip?”
“They're the Alpha's weakness,” Charley whispers conspiratorially.
“I heard that, too.”
“You were meant to.”
Rafe steals two cookies anyway.
I smile.
This.
This is Pack.
It’s not about titles.
Not about hierarchy.
It’s about the things that matter.
It’s about family.
Rafe grows serious after a moment.
“Daria.”
She meets his gaze.
“I owe you an apology.”
She blinks.
“For what?”
“You learned about our world in the worst possible way.”
He shakes his head.
“I wish we'd had the chance to introduce ourselves differently.”
She surprises me by smiling.
“Honestly?”
“After the initial heart attack...”
Everyone chuckles.
“I think I'm okay.”
“You are?”
She nods.
“I've been thinking.”
Rafe waits.
“My whole life, I’ve felt out of place.”
She glances at me.
“Like I've been looking for somewhere I fit.”
Her voice grows quieter.
“I always felt a little...”
She shrugs.
“... different. Too much. Too loud. Too scattered. Too me.”
She laughs softly.
Charley reaches across the coffee table and takes her hand.
“Oh, sweetheart, you've just described half the Pack.”
Daria laughs.
“Really?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
She points toward the hallway.
“My husband forgets where he leaves his truck keys at least twice a week.”
“I do not.”
“You found them in the refrigerator last Tuesday.”
“That happened once.”
The room erupts with laughter.
Daria laughs harder than anyone.
The sound makes something inside me settle.
She belongs.
Gods, Sweet Mother Moon, thank you.
Because she does.
Daria belongs here with me.
Rafe waits until the laughter dies down.
Then he stands.
I rise automatically.
So does Daria.
The Alpha walks over and places one hand on my shoulder.
The other, he places on her shoulder.
“Rand Jameson.”
“Sir.”
“You've been a loyal member of this Pack your entire life.”
He looks at Daria.
“And you, Daria Woods.”
His smile is warm.
“You have already shown incredible courage.”
She smiles nervously.
“I mostly cried.”
“So did my mate when I told her about me the first time.”
Charley nods enthusiastically.
“I definitely cried.”
“I cried too,” Rafe admits.
“Really?”
“When I found her.”
He smiles at his wife.
“Still do sometimes.”
Charley rolls her eyes affectionately.
“Hopeless romantic.”
“Guilty.”
Rafe looks back at us.
“The Macconwood Pack welcomes you, Daria.”
Emotion shines in her whiskey-colored eyes.
“You are under our protection. You are now officially Pack.”
Charley steps beside her husband.
“And family.”
Daria's lip trembles.
“I...”
She looks at me.
Then back at them.
“I've never really had a big family.”
“You do now,” Charley says simply.
Daria throws her arms around the Alpha fem.
The women hug tightly.
I look away for a second.
Not because I'm embarrassed. Because my own eyes are burning.
Rafe notices. There’s little the Alpha misses.
“Told you.”
I clear my throat.
“Shut up.”
He laughs.
An hour later, we're back at the farmhouse. The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the property.
Daria stands in the field behind the house, staring at the weathered old barn.
“It needs a lot of work.”
“It does.”
“The roof leaks.”
“I noticed.”
“The foundation probably needs reinforcing.”
“I can fix that.”
She looks at me.
“You can?”
“Honey.”
I smile.
“I'm a mechanic. I weld. I fabricate. I build.”
She blinks.
“Oh.”
“And...”
I nod toward the barn.
“Well, I've got about forty Pack mates who owe me favors.”
She laughs.
“You'd ask them?”
“I won't have to.”
She tilts her head.
“They'll volunteer.”
“Why?”
“Because that's what Pack does.”
She looks back at the old barn.
“I always dreamed...”
Her voice catches.
“... of filling this place with animals that needed a second chance.”
I slip my arms around her from behind.
She leans into me without hesitation.
“You still will.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I know so. We'll replace every board. Raise a new roof. Build bigger stalls. Add a medical room. A quarantine wing,” I tell her.
She turns in my arms, surprise lighting her face.
“You've thought about this.”
“I've thought about your dream. And now, it’s our dream...”
I shrug.
“So, I started making plans.”
Fresh tears gather in her eyes.
“You keep doing that.”
“What?”
“Making me feel like I matter.”
I cup her face.
“Honey, you don't just matter. You are the center of my world.”
She kisses me then.
Slowly.
Sweetly.
With all the certainty we'd found together.
When we part, she smiles toward the old barn.
“Our first project?”
“Our first of many.”
She slips her hand into mine.
“Ready to go inside?”
I look at the farmhouse.
At the barn.
At the land that will one day echo with rescued animals and children's laughter.
Then at my beautiful mate.
“I already am.”
Together, hand in hand, we walk toward the future we'd build side by side.
One board.
One dream.
One forever at a time.
The end.