20. Wally #2
Vayda taps the glass. She zooms out to view the massive square footage of the custom build.
She swipes back to the first slide, looking at the proposed addition to her current house.
She toggles between the two distinct futures.
She weighs the comfort of the familiar against the promise of a custom sanctuary.
She spent the last decade building a life on this exact plot of land.
Leaving it behind takes an enormous amount of courage.
"I know the sentimental value attached to this property.
" I keep my tone gentle. I understand the weight of her past, and I respect the men who came before us.
"Hale built the cabinets in the kitchen.
He installed the hardwood floors in the living room.
His tools sit out in the shed right now.
Emmett picked out the paint colors for the exterior.
You spent a decade building a life with them inside these walls. "
Vayda stops swiping. She hits the side button and locks the screen, plunging the display into darkness.
Looking away from the device, Vayda scans the cramped dimensions of the guest room.
Her gaze sweeps over the scuffed floorboards and the tiny closet bulging with her clothes.
She spent ten years making memories on this property.
She spent the last four years crammed into this tiny spare room to give Brendan the master bathroom and the extra floor space.
She loves this house. She kept her pack secure inside these rooms when the rest of her world collapsed.
Leaving it behind means closing a massive chapter of her life.
The scent of her anxiety spikes in the air.
A bitter note cuts through her sweet aroma.
It hits my nose and triggers a protective rumble deep in my chest. I want to reach across the mattress, wrap my arms around her waist, and shield her from the stress of this massive decision.
Instead, I plant my hands flat on my thighs.
I force myself to stay seated. She needs to reach this conclusion on her terms.
Vayda turns her head to face me. The hesitation in her eyes vanishes. A sudden, determined clarity replaces the lingering doubt.
"This house is a museum for ghosts." Vayda states the truth with absolute conviction.
The bitter note in her scent fades. A rich, warm aroma floods the room, smelling like acceptance and deep affection. The shift in her scent relaxes the tight muscles in my shoulders. I let out a long breath.
"I spent four years trying to preserve a past I lost." She reaches across the space between us.
She grabs my hand. Her fingers lock around mine with a desperate grip.
"I kept Hale's tools right where he left them.
I kept the paint the exact same color Emmett chose.
I trapped Brendan and myself in a shrine because letting go felt like a betrayal. "
I squeeze her hand. I rub my thumb over her knuckles to ground her in the present moment. I trace the soft skin of her wrist, feeling the frantic flutter of her pulse calm down. My calluses scrape against her delicate skin.
"You survived." I meet her gaze. "You did what you had to do to keep your pack together. You protected your Alpha."
"I survived." Vayda agrees. "But I want to live. I want to move forward."
She looks down at our joined hands. The contrast of her smaller fingers wrapped around my massive, scarred knuckles creates a striking image.
It represents the foundation of our new pack.
We provide the strength and the protection.
She provides the heart and the home. The three of us plan to spend the rest of our lives making sure she stays safe and secure.
"Hale and Emmett belong to the past." Vayda speaks their names free from the crushing weight of guilt. "They'd hate watching me squeeze my new mates into a shoebox just to hold onto a few old cabinets."
Vayda looks up. Her eyes meet mine. The amber and seabreeze notes of my scent flare with rising excitement.
"My home is not this building." She speaks with a steady, confident rhythm. "My home is wherever Brendan resides. My home is wherever you, Simon, and Kel decide to park your trucks."
A massive wave of relief crashes through my chest. The lingering fear of her clinging to her late Alphas dissolves into the quiet room. She views us as her equals. She claims us as her future. The certainty in her voice fuels the possessive fire in my blood. I want to pack her boxes tonight.
Vayda pulls her hand away from mine. She taps the tablet screen to wake it up again. She bypasses Option A and Option B. She dismisses the plans to renovate or expand the old house.
She swipes straight to Option C. She taps the center of the massive, custom floor plan.
"I want the new house." Vayda points to the custom suite designed for Brendan.
"I want ceiling tracks and roll-in showers for him.
I want a kitchen big enough for Simon to cook a feast with plenty of elbow room.
I want a huge workshop for Kel to build furniture.
I want a backyard with a massive privacy fence.
I want a master bedroom big enough for a massive nesting bed for the five of us. "
She looks at me. The heat in her eyes ignites a fire in my veins.
"Help me build a space designed for our needs." Vayda issues the command. "Let's build a compound."
I stare at the glowing schematic. The confirmation seals our future.
We get to break ground on a custom sanctuary for our Omega and our disabled pack mate.
We get to provide a fortress away from the tabloids, the paparazzi, and the League drama.
We get to build a life from scratch, designed to fit the five of us.
"I call the architects tomorrow morning." I speak the promise aloud. "We break ground the second the playoffs end. You get everything you want."
A surge of pride swells in my chest. The absolute certainty in her voice fuels the possessive instinct in my blood. She chose our future. She chose a life built around our combined needs. She embraces the upcoming years with us.
I take the tablet from her hands. I lean over and set the device face-down on the nightstand. The screen goes dark. Right now, only the woman sitting in front of me matters. I want to celebrate this milestone. I want to show her how much this commitment means to me.
I shift my weight. I slide my knees onto the mattress and crawl across the comforter to close the gap between us.
Vayda uncrosses her legs, shifting her posture to make room for my massive frame.
I reach forward and grip her hips. I pull her flush against my body.
The impact knocks a soft gasp from her lips.
My hands span the entire width of her lower back, holding her tight against my stomach.
I cup her face with both hands. My thumbs trace her cheekbones. I brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her skin feels warm under my calluses.
"Thank you." I lower my head to catch her gaze. "I'm so thankful you trust me with our future."
I capture her mouth. The kiss starts with deep, consuming gratitude.
My tongue sweeps past her teeth, tangling with hers in a hot, demanding rhythm.
She sighs against my lips. She loops her arms around my neck and tangles her fingers in my hair.
The wet friction of her mouth against mine sparks a raging fire in my veins.
She tastes like sweet mint and total surrender.