Chapter 20 Tolin
TOLIN
IRONWOOD CLAN
Imani is practically vibrating with excitement in the passenger seat, her eyes bright, her smile wide, anticipation radiating off her in waves. Meanwhile, my stomach is in knots.
Not because I’m worried about my family accepting her. They will. My mother has been waiting for this day since I was old enough to understand what a mate was. And Ronan, despite our strained relationship, fixed her car without hesitation the moment I asked.
No, my nerves are about something else entirely.
I don’t want to share her.
For the past few days, she’s been mine. Just mine. No one else’s eyes on her, no one else’s voice in her ear, no one else taking up space in her attention. The thought of other people looking at her, talking to her, pulling her away from me even for a moment makes my bear pace restlessly.
But she wants this. She wants the clan, the community, the family. And I’d give her the damn moon if she asked for it.
So here I am, driving down the mountain toward the life I walked away from five years ago.
“Tell me about your mother,” Imani says as we drive deeper into the valley.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything. What’s she like? What should I expect? Will she like me?”
“She’ll love you.” I don’t even have to think about it. “She’s been waiting years for me to find my mate. She’d probably already planned our mating ceremony before I even told her about you.”
Imani laughs, the sound filling the truck cab. “That’s terrifying and sweet at the same time.”
“That’s my mother.”
We crest a ridge and the valley opens up below us. I slow the truck so she can take it in.
Her gasp is worth every moment of anxiety.
“Tolin.” Her voice is hushed. “It’s beautiful.”
I watch her face instead of the view. Watch her eyes go wide as she takes in the cabins nestled among the trees, the smoke rising from chimneys, the mountains surrounding everything like a protective embrace.
Snow blankets the rooftops, icicles hanging from the eaves.
In the distance, I can see the central gathering area where the clan holds celebrations, the large fire pit already being prepared for something.
“How many families live here?” she asks.
“About fifty bears, give or take. Some live alone, some in family groups.”
“Oh... yes.” Realization crosses her face. “You told me that.” Then she points ahead. “And that big building?”
“The meeting hall. It’s where the clan gathers for important events. Celebrations. Ceremonies.” I pause. “Mating announcements.”
She turns to look at me, her eyes soft. “Is that where you’ll announce me?”
“If you want.”
“I want.” She reaches over and takes my hand again. “I want all of it, Tolin. Everything you have to give.”
My bear settles slightly at her words. She wants this. She wants us. All of us.
I bring her hand to my lips and press a kiss to her knuckles. “Then you’ll have it.”
We drive through the main area of the territory, and I can feel eyes on us. People stopping what they’re doing to watch the truck pass. Word will spread fast. Tolin Ironwood is back, and he’s not alone.
Let them look. Let them see.
She’s mine.
I park outside the mechanic shop and Imani looks at me with confusion.
“There’s something I want to show you first,” I say.
I open her door and help her down. She’s stopped protesting. Just smiles when I do it. My bear preens.
I lead her inside the garage.
She stops dead when she sees her car.
It’s sitting in the center of the space. The door that I ripped off has been replaced, the window I shattered now whole and clear. It looks better than it did when she first drove it up my mountain.
“You really did bring it here,” she breathes.
“Told you it was somewhere it could be fixed.”
“You carried my car through a blizzard.” She shakes her head slowly. “To people you hadn’t really been part of for five years. Just to fix what you broke.”
“I’d do a lot more than that for you.”
She looks at me with something soft and overwhelmed in her eyes. Before she can respond, movement catches my attention from the other side of the garage.
Ronan steps out from behind a workbench, wiping his hands on a rag.
I feel Imani tense beside me. She’s never seen him before, but she knows who he is. Knows he’s the one who gave me the scar that marks my face. Knows he’s the Alpha of this clan, my brother, the man I challenged and lost to.
He looks like me. Same height, same build, same dark skin and strong jaw. But without the scar, and with a different weight to his presence. The authority of an Alpha radiates from him without effort.
His eyes move from me to Imani to the mark on her neck.
I see it in his expression. Jealousy. He’s wanted a mate for years, searched for her, waited for her. And here I am, the exiled brother, the one who walked away, presenting my claimed mate like it was easy.
But he pushes it down. Buries it beneath the calm mask of an Alpha.
“So you’re Imani.” He approaches slowly, his gaze assessing. “The woman who finally got my brother to bring someone home.”
Imani straightens beside me. Nerves ripple off her, but her determination holds firm. She’s intimidated, but she’s not going to show it.
“I didn’t get him to do anything.” She lifts her chin. “He makes his own choices.”
Ronan’s lips twitch. The barest hint of a smile. “Welcome to Ironwood Clan.”
“Thank you.” She glances at the car. “And thank you for fixing it. Tolin told me what he did to it. I’m sorry you had to clean up his mess.”
Ronan actually laughs at that, a short bark of surprise. “I like her,” he says to me.
“Good.” I pull Imani closer to my side. “Because she’s not going anywhere.”
The brothers exchange a look. There’s still tension there, years of unresolved history sitting between us. But it’s softer now. Less sharp.
“Mother’s been cooking since dawn,” Ronan says. “You’d better get over there before she sends out a search party.”
“The car runs well?”
“Better than before you got your hands on it.” He tosses the rag onto the workbench. “She’s all set.”
“Thank you.”
Ronan nods once. “She’s good for you,” he says quietly. “Don’t mess it up.”
“I won’t.”
We leave the garage and walk toward my mother’s cabin. Imani is quiet beside me, processing.
“That’s him,” she finally says. “The one who gave you the scar.”
“Yes.”
She doesn’t say anything else, but her fingers press harder into mine. She understands. It’s complicated. Brothers. Rivals. Family. All tangled together in ways that can’t be easily undone.
My mother’s cabin comes into view, small and warm, smoke curling from the chimney. Before we even reach the porch, the door swings open.
She’s been watching for us.
Her eyes find me first, then move to Imani, then drop to the mark on her neck. Her hand flies to her mouth.
“You claimed her.” Her voice breaks. “Tolin. It’s real now. It’s official.”
Before I can say anything, she’s down the steps and pulling Imani into her arms.
Imani goes stiff for a second, startled by the sudden embrace. Then she melts into it, her arms coming up to wrap around my mother’s back.
I ache watching them. Imani told me about her childhood. The foster homes. The group houses. Never having a mother who held her like this.
Now she does.
My mother pulls back, keeping her hands on Imani’s shoulders, looking at her with tears streaming down her face.
“Welcome to the family, sweet girl.” She cups Imani’s cheek. “I’ve been waiting for you for a very long time.”
Imani’s eyes are wet too. “Thank you.”
“None of that.” My mother waves a hand dismissively and grabs Imani’s arm. “Come inside. I’ve been cooking all morning and you need to eat something before tonight.”
She pulls Imani up the steps and into the cabin, barely sparing me a glance. I follow behind, amused despite myself. I’ve been replaced already.
The cabin is warm and bright, filled with the smell of roasting meat and baking bread. My mother pulls out a chair for Imani and immediately starts loading a plate.
“Sit, sit.” She waves at me without looking. “Both of you. You’re too skinny. Does he feed you?” This last part is directed at Imani.
“He tries,” Imani says with a grin. “He’s getting better at cooking for humans.”
“He burned water once when he was twelve,” my mother says. “I wasn’t sure he’d ever learn.”
“Mother.”
“What? It’s true.” She sets a plate in front of Imani piled high with food. “Eat. You’ll need your strength for tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“The Winter Solstice celebration.” My mother beams as she settles into a chair across from us. “The whole clan gathers. We light the ceremonial tree, share food, give thanks for the year. You’ll stay, of course. Both of you.”
It’s not a question.
“That sounds wonderful.” Imani’s eyes are shining. “Can I help with anything?”
My mother’s face lights up like Imani just offered her the moon and stars combined.
“I’d love that.” She reaches over and squeezes Imani’s hand. “After you eat, you can help me with the baking. I’m making brown sugar pecan rolls for the gathering, and I could use an extra pair of hands.”
“I’d like that very much.”
I lean back in my chair, watching them talk. My mate and my mother, already falling into an easy rhythm. Imani asks about the cabin, about the clan, about my childhood. My mother answers eagerly, sharing stories I’d rather she kept to herself.
But I can’t bring myself to interrupt. Not when Imani looks so happy.
This is what she wanted. What she asked me for. Family. Connection. A place to belong.
And watching her here, in my mother’s kitchen, laughing at stories about my childhood disasters, I know I made the right choice bringing her home.
She fits here.
She fits with us.