Chapter 39
Bree
I'm sitting on my bed, fingers still pressed to my lips when the knock comes. I can still taste him. Still feel the press of his mouth against mine, the way his hands threaded through my hair. My whole body is buzzing, lit up from the inside.
I've kissed others. I’ve been kissed with tenderness, with care, even with longing. And every one of those moments mattered. They made me feel safe. Chosen. Seen.
But this was different.
This time, it wasn’t just about being wanted.
It was about wanting back.
And for the first time in my life, I didn't feel the need to shrink from that. I didn't feel ashamed of it. I just... felt. All of it. And I still do.
My lips still tingle. My heart hasn’t stopped pounding. But what scares me most isn’t what just happened.
It’s how much I didn’t want to run from it.
The knock comes again, soft and hesitant.
"Come in," I call, expecting maybe Theo or Rhett checking on me.
Instead, it's Mairen. The woman cooking not just for us, but the entire crowd of people who have come be. She's holding a small lantern, and her expression is somewhere between sheepish and hopeful.
"I'm sorry to bother you," she says, voice trembling slightly. "But I thought... well, I set something up. For dinner. And I was hoping you might join us."
I blink, confused. "Us?"
"All of you," she clarifies, then looks down at her hands. "I know this morning was... a lot. And I thought maybe you'd all like somewhere quiet to just... breathe for a while"
There's something in her voice that makes my chest tight. Like this matters to her. Like she's offering something precious.
"What did you set up?" I ask.
Her face brightens. "Come see?"
She holds out her hand, and after a moment's hesitation, I take it.
***
The garden takes my breath away.
The sun is setting, painting everything in gold and amber, and the Ether is awake but gentle—soft curls of mist threading through the grass like silk. But that's not what stops me cold.
Floating orbs of warm light hover above a long, low table like captured fireflies.
Bioluminescent flowers I've never seen before sway in the evening breeze, casting everything in a soft, otherworldly glow.
The table is surrounded by cushions and blankets, with food laid out that smells like comfort and home.
It's beautiful. Intimate. Perfect.
And clearly arranged for us.
"Mairen," I whisper. "This is..."
She guides me to a cushion at the head of the table, then kneels beside me. Her eyes are bright with unshed tears.
"Thank you," she says, voice thick with emotion. "Not just for the sanctuary. For the home you built without even meaning to."
I don't understand. "What home?"
"The houses," she says, gesturing toward the forest edge.
"The ones that grew when you walked through the trees this morning.
My friend Kira—she's been traveling for weeks, sleeping rough, caring for her baby girl alone.
And the house you made for her..." She wipes her eyes.
"It was exactly what she needed. Like you saw her without even meeting her. Like you made her feel chosen."
My throat goes tight. "I didn't even know she was there."
"That's what makes it beautiful," Mairen says softly. "You didn't do it for credit or recognition. You just... cared. And it shows."
Before I can respond, footsteps approach from behind us. I turn to see the others stepping into the garden one by one.
Rhett stiffens first, eyes scanning the floating lights like he's checking for threats.
Wes looks directly at me, something soft and uncertain in his expression.
Gray notices the bioluminescent flowers with quiet appreciation.
Jace just stops and stares, mouth slightly open. Theo whispers, "What is this?"
Thane and Stellan follow behind them, both taking in the scene with different kinds of surprise.
I open my mouth to explain, but Mairen speaks first.
"She made it for you," she says simply. "All of you. For us."
Rhett frowns. "Made what?"
Mairen gestures toward the forest. "The houses. The safe spaces. The way people are gathering without fear." Her voice grows stronger. "We didn't even have to knock. The doors just opened. Like she knew what we needed before we did."
The silence that follows is heavy with something I can't name.
"Come," Mairen says, rising from her knees. "Eat. Talk. Just... be together."
We settle around the table in a quiet that feels sacred instead of awkward. The food is warm and perfect, and the floating lights cast everything in a gentle glow that makes even the sharp edges feel softer.
For a while, no one speaks. We just eat, lost in our own thoughts.
Then Jace clears his throat.
"I fucked up this morning," he says quietly. "What I said—the way I talked about it like it was funny. I shouldn't have. I always make it a joke when I don't know how to handle whatever is happening." He looks directly at me. "But you were right there, and I didn't think. I'm sorry."
Rhett sets down his fork. "I noticed something was wrong. Could see it in the way you stepped back, went quiet. But I didn't say anything because I wasn't sure it was my place." He pauses. "Now I know it always is. When it comes to you."
Gray's voice is quiet when he speaks. "I saw you walk away. I should have gone after you."
"I should've stopped Jace," Theo adds. "I didn't. And that's on me too."
Wes is quiet for a long moment, then looks up. "I let myself be wanted by people I don't care about... and let the person who matters walk away."
The admission hangs in the air between us, weighted with everything that happened in the hallway.
Then, surprisingly, Thane speaks.
"You disappeared," he says, silver eyes finding mine. "And I noticed. I just didn't know what I was allowed to do about it."
Stellan adds softly, "That's the problem. None of us are asking. We're all assuming. And it's starting to show."
I stare around the table at all of them—these men who've somehow become the center of my world without me noticing. They're not perfect. They mess up, make assumptions, hurt each other without meaning to.
But they're here. They're trying.
And maybe that's enough.
"I don't know how to do this," I admit quietly. "Any of this. I don't know how to be wanted or needed or... important to people. I've never had that before."
"None of us do," Rhett says. "But we figure it out as we go."
"Together," Wes adds, and something warm unfurls in my chest.
The Ether curls gently around our feet, content and settled in a way it hasn't been in days. Like it approves of this moment, this honesty, this decision to stay instead of run.
We finish dinner in comfortable quiet, the floating lights growing brighter as true darkness falls. No one moves to leave. No one breaks the silence with jokes or deflection.
We just... stay.
And for the first time in too long, staying doesn't feel like a trap.
It feels like a promise.