14. Epilogue
Epilogue
Jessie
Two years bring a ridiculous amount of change to a town.
I stand behind the front desk of the Willowside Veterinary Clinic. The old wallpaper is gone. Fresh white paint and modern lights brighten the waiting room. The space buzzes with chaotic energy.
Three ranchers sit on the benches, trading jokes while their cattle dogs nap on the tile floor.
A mother corrals a frantic toddler and a nervous beagle near the entrance.
The clinic survives and thrives. Willowside's reputation as a safe haven triggered a population boom over the past twenty-four months.
New families flood into the county, bringing their pets with them.
Maya handles a ringing phone with ease. She types rapid notes into the computer, balances a clipboard on her wrist, and smiles at a client walking through the front door.
Behind me, the swinging doors to the treatment area push open.
Marcus and Becca carry a sleeping cat toward the kennels. My techs operate as a tight unit.
I cross my arms over my chest, observing the well-oiled machine. Two years ago, I ran this place alone, terrified of the ticking clock on my contract.
The urge to run no longer exists. I own this clinic now. I planted my roots in this soil, and they hold firm. I wear my Omega status with pride. My vanilla and sugar scent drifts down the hall. I take up space, I give the orders, and the town respects my authority.
"Dr. Jessie." Maya covers the receiver of the phone with her palm. "Mr. Henderson wants to bring his pregnant mare in on Tuesday. Should I book him with you or Dr. Miller?"
"Put him on my schedule." I give a firm nod. "The mare has a stubborn streak. I want to check her vitals myself."
Maya taps the keys, locking the appointment in.
I push off the counter and head through the swinging doors into the back treatment area.
Surgical lights shine off the metal tables.
The recent renovations doubled our capacity for emergencies.
Because the workload skyrocketed, I hired a second veterinarian six months ago to keep the business afloat.
I walk down the short hallway and step into Exam Room Three.
Dr. Chloe Miller, the granddaughter of Mr. Miller, stands in front of the glowing light board, her arms crossed over her green scrubs.
Chloe stares at an x-ray on the screen. She possesses a brilliant mind and a sharp wit, but complicated surgeries still test her nerves.
A sedated farm dog snores on the exam table behind her.
"Talk to me, Chloe." I walk up to the board, tracing a finger near the dog's ribcage on the film. "What are we looking at?"
Chloe points to a solid shape lodged deep in the dog's stomach cavity. "Buster ate a spark plug from the tractor shed. The object sits too close to the intestinal wall. We need to cut him open, but the angle makes me nervous."
I lean closer to the film, studying the harsh white shape against the dark tissue.
"The angle looks tricky, but you possess the skill to handle the extraction." I tap the bottom edge of the stomach on the x-ray. "Make your incision right here. Avoid the main vascular lines. You go in smooth, grab the metal with the forceps, and stitch him up."
Chloe bites her bottom lip, her eyes darting between me and the film. "Mr. Henderson expects you to do the surgery. He trusts you."
"Mr. Henderson trusts this clinic." I turn my head, holding her gaze.
"I hired you because you run a clean operating room and you care about the animals.
You take the lead on this extraction. I plan to scrub in and stand right across the table from you.
If you hit a snag, I step in. Otherwise, this is your surgery. "
A spark of determination lights up Chloe's eyes. She drops her arms, nodding her head. "Okay. Let's get Buster prepped for the operating room."
"Marcus." I step out of the exam room, calling down the hallway. "Prep surgical suite one. We have a metal extraction on the board."
Marcus offers a thumbs-up from the recovery kennels, grabbing a sterile tray to start laying out the instruments.
I walk to the scrub sinks, turning the hot water on with my elbow.
Lathering soap over my hands, I watch the suds wash down the metal drain.
I run a thriving business, employ a dedicated team, and plant myself in this community.
My transient life is dead and gone. I dry my hands on a sterile towel, toss the paper in the bin, and walk into the operating room to help my junior vet save a dog.
The drive through town offers a peaceful end to a chaotic day. I steer down Main Street, watching the neon signs flicker to life in the storefront windows. Locals wave from the sidewalks. I roll my window down a fraction, letting the crisp air flood the cab.
Fifteen minutes later, I turn onto the dirt driveway. The tires crunch over the gravel. The white farmhouse comes into view. Jake, Nolan, and Edward spent the past two years upgrading the property.
I park the van, kill the engine, and hop out. I climb the wooden steps and push the front door open.
Duke charges down the hallway before my boots even cross the threshold. The golden retriever skids to a halt, dropping a rubber toy tire on the rug. He barks once, his tail thumping a loud rhythm against the drywall.
"Hey, buddy." I crouch down, scratching the thick fur behind his ears. "You guard the house today?"
Duke whines, leaning his entire body weight against my knee.
A meow draws my attention upward. Winston looks down from his wall shelf. The tuxedo cat watches the dog with a slow, unfazed blink. We installed the high shelves a year ago to give Winston the high ground. He rules the house, dictating the rules to the retriever.
Winston stretches his front legs, hops down the staggered shelves, and lands on the back of the sofa. He waits for me to stand up and walk over. Reaching out, I rub my thumb along his jawline. A loud purr vibrates in his throat.
Leaving the animals to their routine, I walk down the hall and step into the kitchen.
The domestic peace settles over me. The pack scent of ripe fig anchors the room.
Jake stands at the granite counter. He unpins a silver Sheriff's badge from his tan uniform shirt, setting the metal star next to his keys.
The county promoted him a year ago, handing him the top spot in the department.
His broad shoulders fill out the uniform, and his sharp vetiver scent spikes in the warm air as he turns his head to spot me.
Edward stands in front of the stove, stirring a pot of chili with a wooden spoon. His new Fire Chief insignia rests on the entryway table. The promotion gave him control over the rural district. His clove scent mixes with the simmering chili.
Nolan sits on a stool at the kitchen island.
He caps a red pen, closing a cardboard folder.
A stack of graded science midterms rests next to his elbow.
Despite the town's growth, Nolan refuses to leave his teaching position.
He finds grounding in shaping the minds of the local kids.
His black tea scent drifts across the room.
"The boss is home." Jake abandons his badge, crossing the kitchen in three long strides.
He wraps his strong arms around my waist, lifting me off the floor. I wrap my arms around his neck, crashing my mouth against his lips. We share a heated kiss. He sets my feet back on the floor, pressing his nose against my jaw to breathe in my scent.
Nolan pushes off his stool. He steps in, tilting my chin up with two fingers. He captures my lips next, swirling his tongue into my mouth in a demanding sweep. His thumb strokes my cheekbone. I break the kiss, resting my forehead against his chest for a quiet second.
Edward abandons the stove, wiping his large hands on a dish towel. He walks over, pulling me flush against his side. He presses a firm kiss to my temple.
"Dinner needs five more minutes." Edward keeps his arm wrapped tight around my waist. "How did the spark plug extraction go?"
"Chloe nailed it." I lean into his solid warmth. "Buster will make a full recovery. Mr. Henderson brought a basket of apples to the front desk as a thank you."
"The town adores you." Nolan slides a hand over my shoulder, rubbing the tense muscles. "You earned every bit of it."
I stand in the center of the kitchen, surrounded by my three bonded mates. The chaotic years of my youth fade into nothing. I belong to this pack, and this farmhouse is my true home.
The air bites at my skin as the sun sets.
I step through the sliding glass doors, holding a ceramic mug of hot apple cider. The guys followed through on the plans Jake pitched to me at the creek two years ago. A cedar deck wraps around the back of the house. A stone fire pit sits in the center, throwing flames into the night.
An outdoor sofa sits near the fire. Jake steps out of the house, carrying a thick wool blanket.
He walks over and takes a seat in the middle of the cushions.
I walk over next. He grabs my hips, pulling me down to sit on his lap.
He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling my back flush against his broad chest. He drapes the blanket over my lap, tucking the edges around my legs to trap the heat.
Edward and Nolan step onto the deck next. Nolan settles on the left cushion, resting his warm hand flat against my thigh. Edward takes the right side, resting his hand on my other thigh.
Surrounded by my Alphas, the chilly wind can't reach my skin.
Jake buries his face in my hair. He presses his open mouth over the nape of my neck. His lips brush against the raised, silver scar of my claiming mark. Heat radiates from the permanent bite on my skin.
"Mayor Higgins stopped by the station today." Jake traces a finger down my arm. "The new housing development on the east side broke ground this morning. We'll get another twenty families in town before spring."
"My classroom numbers keep climbing." Nolan rests his chin on my shoulder, watching the flames in the fire pit. "The school board plans to build a new wing over the summer to handle the influx. More kids mean more chaos in the hallways."
"The town offers a safe place to raise a family." Edward rubs his thumb in a slow circle. "People want security. They want a place where Omegas walk down the street without fear."
The topic of children drifts into the quiet night. In the past, the mention of a family caused me panic. Traditional expectations sounded like a prison sentence.
They place zero expectations on me to have a kid.
Jake, Nolan, and Edward demand nothing from my body.
They share a quiet, mutual agreement on the subject.
If a pregnancy happens, we celebrate and expand our family.
If it never happens, they remain fulfilled.
They want me for my mind, companionship, and love.
"Ruby brought little Leo into the station for a tour." Jake kisses my mark again. "He tried to steal a pair of handcuffs from my desk. The kid moves fast."
"Sandra told me Juniper learned how to unlatch the child gates." I take a sip of the hot cider, leaning deeper into Jake's chest. "Ollie spends half his day chasing her around the living room."
"Toddlers require endless energy." Nolan chuckles, his chest rumbling against my side. "I prefer teaching the older kids. They sit still for at least ten minutes at a time."
"We have plenty of time to figure our own path out." Edward shifts his weight, leaning his head back against the cushions. "We have the house, we have the clinic, and we have each other. Rushing into the next phase serves no purpose."
"Agreed." Jake wraps his arms tighter around my waist.
I look up, staring at the dark sky above the tree line. Stars scatter across the dark canvas, visible away from the city lights. Crickets chirp a steady rhythm in the tall grass beyond the deck. The fire pops, sending a shower of orange sparks into the air.
I take another sip of the sweet cider. Gratitude settles in my bones. The running is over. The fear is gone. I sit by the fire with my pack, ready to face whatever the future brings. Life is good.
The End