Chapter 10
Landry
The screams carry through the trees.
I flinch every time.
They’re distant, but not distant enough. Not enough to pretend I don’t know what’s happening down there. Not enough to pretend Cooper isn’t in the middle of it.
My Cooper, my wolf. The man who kissed me like I was precious, then left with murder in his eyes because someone hurt me.
I wrap my arms tighter around myself, trying not to shake.
Russo stands a few feet away, his massive body turned toward the sounds of fighting. He’s in human form again, blood streaking his side and one arm, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it. He keeps glancing between me and the trees like he’s trying to watch the battle and guard me at the same time.
“You should sit,” he says gently.
I shake my head. If I sit, I might fall apart. If I fall apart, I might not stop.
Another scream echoes in the distance. This one cuts off abruptly.
My stomach rolls.
I’ve never been someone who wished for death.
Not really. Even after everything with the cult, even after the van and the fear and the dirty hands grabbing me, I don’t think I ever imagined actual murder and felt good about it.
But now? Now I think about Cooper tearing through the men who took me, and something inside me feels horrifyingly calm.
Not happy, exactly, but safe. Loved.
That might be worse.
Or maybe it means I finally understand what Cooper has been trying to show me from the beginning.
He’ll do anything for me. Anything.
I press my trembling fingers to my mouth, careful of my split lip. My cheek throbs. My wrists burn. My shoulder aches from where I hit the van door, but I’m here. I’m alive.
Cooper came for me. I knew he would. Even when the van door slammed shut and darkness swallowed me, I knew. I held onto the thought of him the way someone drowning holds onto a rope.
Cooper will come.
And he did.
The tears start again before I can stop them.
Russo shifts closer. “Landry?”
I rock back and forth, my hands wrapped around my middle. What should I do? I don’t think I can stay here. It’s too much for me. I need to leave, to go to Cooper’s house. Our house.
The thought lands with surprising certainty.
I want to go home. Not to the guest room. Not the place I’m staying while I figure things out. Not a temporary shelter from the cult or the world or my own fear.
Home.
That’s where I want to be when he comes back.
“I’m going back,” I say, taking a step toward home.
“Wait, Cooper told you to stay here.”
“You should go help them,” I tell him.
Russo studies me for a second, then sighs. “He’s going to lose his mind if you’re not where he left you.”
“He already lost his mind.”
“Fair,” he grunts
“I’m not running away. But I can’t stand here listening to this.”
Another roar tears through the forest, low and furious and inhuman. My chest clenches.
“Go.”
Russo nods and gives me one last look before he turns and shifts. I watch as he takes off, sprinting toward the screams.
I walk the other way. I don’t look back. I can’t. If I do, I might see something I’ll never be able to forget.
The walk feels both too long and too short. My body aches with every step, but moving helps. It gives me something to focus on besides the sounds fading behind me. Besides the memory of hands on me. Besides the way Cooper looked when he told me he was going to kill everyone involved in taking me.
I should be scared of him. Maybe a smarter woman would be, but I’m not.
Cooper is dangerous. I knew that from the beginning, even before I understood what being his mate meant. He’s a wolf. A predator. A man raised in a world where protecting what belongs to you isn’t just a promise. It’s instinct.
And I belong to him.
He belongs to me too.
I love him.
I stop walking.
A surprised laugh slips out of me. It hurts my split lip, but I don’t care.
I’m in love with Cooper. Completely.
The certainty of that hits me hard. I know I need to tell him as soon as he’s back home.
My pace picks up, and I hurry down the path toward home. By the time I reach Cooper’s house, my legs are shaking. I let myself inside and lock the door behind me.
The silence hits hard.
For a second, I stand there with my back against the door, listening to my breathing. Cooper’s house smells like him. Pine and soap and something warm that has become a comfort to me.
I’m safe.
I repeat it in my head until my body starts to believe it.
I’m safe. I’m home.
Then I look toward the stairs. All my things are still in the guest room, like I’m visiting. Like I might leave.
I push away from the door, a plan forming in my head.
Every muscle protests as I climb the stairs slowly and walk into the guest room. It looks untouched. Neat. Temporary. A place for someone who hasn’t decided where she belongs.
I have decided.
I grab my suitcase from the closet and set it on the bed. My hands shake as I pull clothes from hangers, but the shaking eases with each piece I fold. Shirts. Sweaters. Jeans. Pajamas.
Moving helps. Choosing helps.
I carry the first armful down the hall to Cooper’s room.
Our room.
The bed is unmade from this morning. The sight makes my throat tight. I remember waking beneath him, laughing as he tried to convince me patrol wasn’t important. I remember his kiss on the porch. His hands on my face. The way he said he couldn’t lose me.
I set my clothes on the dresser and open drawers until I find space. There isn’t much because Cooper apparently owns more black T-shirts than one man needs, but I make room.
Then I go back for more.
By the third trip, I’m crying again. Quietly this time. Not because I’m afraid, but because I’m exhausted and sore and overwhelmed. And for the first time in my life, I’m moving my things into a room with a man, and it doesn’t feel like a trap.
It feels like a promise.
I’m hanging my blue sweater in Cooper’s closet when the front door bangs open downstairs.
“Landry!” Cooper’s voice tears through the house, raw with panic.
I jump, dropping the hanger.
Heavy footsteps thunder up the stairs.
“Landry!”
“I’m here!” I call, but my voice cracks.
He appears in the doorway a second later, and I freeze when I see him.
He’s covered in blood. Some of it is his.
I know that because he has a fresh cut along his shoulder and another across his ribs, but most of it isn’t.
It stains his skin, his jeans, his hands.
His dark hair is a mess, his chest heaving, his green eyes wild.
He looks like something from a nightmare, and I have never been so relieved to see anyone in my life.
“Cooper,” I breathe.
He doesn’t seem to hear me. His gaze darts around the room, taking in the open suitcase, the clothes in my hands, the half-empty guest room behind me down the hall.
His face drains of color beneath the blood.
“No,” he says.
My brow furrows. “What?”
He staggers forward. “No, no, no. Landry, please.”
“Cooper—”
“You can’t leave me.”
My heart cracks in my chest.
He reaches me and drops to his knees like his legs have given out. His bloody hands hover near me, as if he wants to touch me but is afraid of getting blood on my clothes.
“Please,” he says, voice breaking. “Please don’t leave. I know I scared you. I know what I am, what I did, but I had to. They took you. They hurt you. I couldn’t—” His throat works. “I’ll do anything. Anything you want. Just don’t go.”
Tears blur my vision. “Oh, Cooper.”
“I’ll be less intense,” he promises desperately. “I’ll give you space. I’ll sleep in another room if you need me to. I’ll stop pushing. I’ll stop touching you all the time. I’ll—”
“Stop.”
He goes silent instantly, breathing hard. I sink to my knees in front of him, ignoring the ache in my body. His eyes track every movement like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he blinks.
I take his hands. They’re sticky with blood, but I don’t care. “I’m not leaving.”
He stares at me. “You’re not?”
“No.”
His gaze flicks to the suitcase again.
I squeeze his hands. “I’m moving in.”
He blinks. “What?”
A laugh catches in my throat, half sob and half smile. “I’m moving my things into our room.”
“Our room,” he repeats, like the words are too big to understand.
“Yes.”
His whole body shudders. For a second, I think he might collapse completely. Then he surges forward and wraps his arms around me, pulling me against his chest so carefully it makes me cry harder.
“You’re staying,” he whispers into my hair.
“I’m staying.”
“With me.”
“With you,” I agree.
“Forever?”
I pull back to look at him. His face is still wild, still streaked with blood, still terrified in a way that makes my chest ache. This huge, dangerous wolf of a man is looking at me like my answer is the only thing standing between him and ruin.
I cup his face in my hands. “Forever,” I whisper.
His eyes close. A sound leaves him, broken and relieved. Then his mouth is on mine. The kiss is desperate. Messy. Too hard for my split lip, but I don’t care. I kiss him back with everything I have, tasting salt and blood and Cooper.
He pulls away first, cursing softly when he sees me wince. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry. Your lip—”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re hurt.”
“So are you.”
He looks down at himself like he forgot. “I’m fine. I heal fast.”
“That is such a shifter answer,” I say, rolling my eyes. “You still need a shower.”
He lets out a rough, disbelieving laugh. It’s small, but it helps.
Cooper presses his forehead to mine. “I thought you were leaving.”
“I know.”
“I came back, and you weren’t where I left you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No.” His hands tighten on my waist. “Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have told you to stay there. You were scared. You needed to come home.”
Home.
I smile through my tears. “I did.”
Then I remember what I decided in the woods.
My heart pounds.
“Cooper?”
“Yeah, mate?”
I take a shaky breath. “I love you.”
Everything stops.
His breath. His hands. The entire room.
Then his eyes flash wolf-bright, and the most beautiful, devastated expression crosses his face.
“Say it again,” he rasps.
I smile, crying harder now. “I love you.”
He makes another broken sound and pulls me into his arms, burying his face against my neck. His whole body trembles against mine.
“I love you,” he says fiercely. “I love you so much it scares me. I loved you before I knew your name. My wolf knew. I knew. You’re everything, Landry. Everything.”
I close my eyes and hold on to him. No one has ever made me feel like this. Like I am chosen, like I am cherished, like I am safe even when the world is burning down around us.
“You’re my whole world,” he whispers. He brushes a careful thumb near my uninjured cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner.”
“You got to me.”
“They hurt you.”
“And you came.”
“I should have stopped it from happening.”
“You can’t control everything.”
He looks like he strongly disagrees.
I take both of his hands again. “Cooper, listen to me. I don’t need you to be perfect. I need you to come back. I need you to tell me the truth. I need you to be there for me, and you always are.”
He swallows hard.
“I love you. I want to be there for you always too.”
He nods, pressing his forehead against mine for a moment.
“What kind of future do you want?” he asks suddenly.
I blink. “What?”
“With me,” he says. “Tell me. I’ll give it to you.”
My chest aches. “Cooper, you can’t just give me a whole future.”
“Yes, I can.”
He says it so seriously that I almost laugh again, but then I think about it.
A future.
Not running. Not surviving. Not counting money and bracing for the next bad thing.
A future.
“I want this house,” I say slowly. “With my things in your drawers and my books on your shelves.”
“Our shelves.”
“Our shelves,” I agree. “I want a job in town someday. Something normal. I want Sunday breakfasts and date nights and walks through the woods where I don’t flinch at every sound.”
His face softens with every word.
“I want Taylor close,” I continue. “I want to be an aunt. I want to watch her baby grow up knowing they’re safe and loved.”
“You will.”
He kisses me, and I melt against him. When my lip starts to bleed again, Cooper pulls back, cursing.
“You need to rest,” he says.
“You need to shower.”
He glances down at himself again and grimaces. “Yeah.”
“I’ll help.”
His eyes heat for half a second before concern wins. “You’re exhausted.”
“I’m not suggesting anything fun,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I mean, I’ll help clean your cuts.”
“I heal fast.”
“And I love you, so let me take care of you.”
He freezes again. I’m starting to like the power those three words have over him.
Then he nods slowly. “Okay.”
We make it to the bathroom, and I help him wash the blood away.
It should scare me, watching red swirl down the drain.
Some of it does. I’m not numb. I know tonight will come back to me in dreams. I know I’ll hear the van door slam in my head for a while.
I know healing won’t be as simple as being rescued, but Cooper lets me touch him.
Lets me clean the cuts that are already knitting together.
Lets me fuss even though he could probably walk off a bullet wound.
Afterward, we crawl into bed.
Our bed.
My things are still scattered between rooms, the suitcase still open, the future still uncertain in so many ways, but Cooper pulls me against him, careful of my bruises, and I rest my head over his heart.
“I love you,” he whispers into the dark.
I smile against his chest. “I love you too.”
His arms tighten.
Outside, the woods are quiet again. The cult is gone, or close to it. The danger that chased me here has finally met something more dangerous than itself, and tomorrow, I’ll finish moving my things into Cooper’s room.
Our room.
Our home.
For the first time in a long time, I fall asleep believing that tomorrow is the start of something good.
It’s the start of forever.