Chapter 36 Elara
ELARA
Elara woke to afternoon light filtering through lace curtains and the smell of herbs. Her shoulder throbbed with a dull, persistent ache that reminded her exactly what had happened.
She'd been stabbed. Alaric had nearly killed a man. She'd told him she loved him.
In that order.
She sat up slowly, testing her range of motion. The bandage pulled tight, but everything seemed to work. Freya had done good work, even if human healing took longer than the supernatural kind.
The door opened quietly. Freya entered carrying a tray with tea and something that looked like soup.
"You're awake. Good." She set the tray on the small table beside the cot. "How's the pain?"
"Manageable." Elara touched the bandage gingerly. "How long was I out?"
"Six hours. It's almost three." Freya handed her the tea. "Drink. It'll help with the ache."
The tea was warm and slightly bitter, with an aftertaste of honey. Elara sipped it carefully. "What happened after? The hunters?"
"Gone. Emmett had words with the one you... the one Alaric hurt. Made it very clear that coming back would be a mistake." Freya settled into a chair across from her. "Council reinforced the wards. Extended the perimeter. We're secure."
"And Alaric?"
"Spent the last six hours on patrol. Checking every inch of the boundary line." Freya's expression softened. "He's been back three times to check on you. Wouldn't come in. Just stood outside asking if you were all right."
Elara's chest tightened. "Why wouldn't he come in?"
"Because he's terrified you'll change your mind about him once the adrenaline wears off." Freya poured herself tea from a second cup. "He thinks what you saw last night will make you leave."
"That's ridiculous."
"Is it?" Freya met her eyes. "You watched him lose control. Watched the wolf take over. That's not something humans usually process well."
"I'm not most humans."
"No," Freya agreed. "You're not. But he doesn't know that yet. Not completely."
Elara drank more tea, letting the warmth settle her nerves. "Where is he now?"
"On his way here, actually. Emmett finally ordered him to stand down and check on his mate." Freya stood. "I'll give you two privacy. Eat the soup. You need your strength."
She left, closing the door softly behind her.
Elara managed half the soup before she heard boots on the stairs outside. Heavy, deliberate footsteps. Alaric's.
The door opened.
He looked exhausted. Still in patrol clothes, snow melting on his shoulders, shadows under his eyes. But when he saw her sitting up, awake, something in his expression cracked open.
"You're up."
"I'm up." She set down the bowl. "Come in. You look like you're about to fall over."
He entered slowly, closing the door. "How's your shoulder?"
"Sore. But Freya says it's healing clean." She patted the cot beside her. "Sit. Please."
He sat, careful not to jostle her. This close, she could smell snow and pine and exhaustion on him.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"For what?"
"For losing control. For nearly killing that man in front of you. For—"
"Stop." She reached for his hand with her good arm. "We already talked about this."
"I scared you."
"Yes. You did." She squeezed his fingers. "But I'm still here. Still choosing you. Still meant what I said last night."
His eyes searched hers. "About loving me."
"About loving you." She managed a small smile. "Even covered in blood and terrifying, you're still the one I want."
He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles gently. "You should rest more. Heal properly."
"I've rested enough." She hesitated, then took a breath. "Actually, I wanted to ask you something."
"Anything."
"Could I... would it be all right if I stayed with you? Instead of going back to the inn?" The words came out in a rush. "I know it's fast, and we haven't really talked about what happens next, but I don't want to be apart from you right now. I just want—"
"Yes." His answer was immediate, certain. "God, yes. I'll have Diana bring your things to the cabin. Whatever you need."
Relief flooded through her. "You're sure?"
"I've wanted you in my space since the first night you stayed there." His thumb brushed across her knuckles. "Having you there, seeing you in my bed, waking up to you—that's all I've thought about."
"Then take me home." She stood slowly, testing her balance. "Your home."
He was on his feet immediately, arm around her waist to steady her. "Easy. You're still healing."
"I'm fine. Just a little wobbly." She leaned into his strength. "Help me to your truck?"
"I'll carry you."
"Alaric—"
"You were stabbed. I'm carrying you."
She huffed but didn't argue when he lifted her carefully, mindful of her injured shoulder. He grabbed her coat with his free hand and carried her down the stairs.
Outside, the town was quiet. Snow had stopped falling, leaving everything clean and white. A few people were out, repairing damage from the battle, clearing debris. They looked up when Alaric carried her past, but no one commented.
He settled her in the passenger seat of his truck, buckled her in like she was made of glass, then rounded to the driver's side.
The drive to his cabin was short. She watched the trees pass, the way afternoon light caught in the branches, the tracks in the snow from his earlier patrols.
"I meant what I told the hunters," she said quietly. "About choosing this place over my career."
"I know."
"My editor's going to have questions. About where I've been, what I found." She looked at him. "I'm going to tell him the story fell through. That there was nothing here worth writing about."
"You're giving up your article."
"I'm protecting what matters." She touched the window, fingers tracing patterns in the condensation. "Three years I spent looking for proof. For evidence that would make people believe. And now that I have it, I realize something."
"What?"
"Truth isn't always meant to be exposed. Sometimes it's meant to be lived. Quietly. Among people who understand it." She looked at him. "Sometimes the best story is the one you don't tell."
His hands tightened on the wheel. "You're sure about this."
"I've never been more sure of anything."
The cabin appeared through the trees. He parked and came around to help her out, supporting her weight as they climbed the porch steps. Inside, the fire was already burning, the space warm and welcoming.
He guided her to the couch, settling her gently among pillows and blankets.
"I'll call Diana," he said. "Have her bring your things."
"Later." Elara caught his hand as he started to move away. "Stay with me for a minute."
He sat beside her, close enough that their thighs touched. She leaned her head against his shoulder, breathing him in.
"I love you," she said again, because it felt important to say it here, in his space, where they could start building something real. "I meant it last night, and I mean it now. I'm in love with you, Alaric. The human you and the wolf you. All of it."
His arm came around her carefully, holding her against him. "I love you too. More than I thought I could love anything."
"Good." She closed her eyes, letting his warmth seep into her bones. "Because I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me."
"That's all I want." He pressed a tender kiss to the top of her head. "You. Here. For as long as you'll stay."
"How about forever?" The word should have scared her. Should have felt too big, too soon. Instead, it felt right. Inevitable.
"Forever works." His voice was rough with emotion. "Forever works perfectly."
They sat like that as afternoon light faded to evening, wrapped in each other and the quiet promise of what came next. No cameras. No hunters. No articles to write or secrets to expose.
Just truth. The kind you lived instead of told. The kind that existed in the space between heartbeats and whispered confessions.
The kind that looked like home.
Outside, snow began to fall again, soft and gentle, blanketing the world in white. Inside, the fire crackled and warmth settled around them like a blanket.
Elara turned to Alaric and realized what had found her was better than anything she had ever hoped to find.