EPILOGUE
IMANI
SEVEN MONTHS LATER
Seven months ago, I drove up a mountain to clean a cabin for a grumpy bear shifter who hated everyone.
Now I’m sitting on a porch swing watching that same bear shifter argue with his brother about the proper way to change a spark plug.
Life is funny like that.
The swing creaks gently as I rock back and forth, my hands resting on my enormous belly.
Our son is active today, rolling and kicking like he’s training for some kind of bear cub Olympics.
He’s heavy too, pressing down on my bladder, making my back ache, making me wish for the hundredth time that he’d just come out already.
But I’ve still got two months to go. Two more months of swollen ankles and midnight bathroom trips and Tolin hovering over me like I’m made of glass.
I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Our cabin sits at the edge of clan territory, close enough to walk to Mother Lenora’s but far enough to have privacy.
Tolin built the porch swing himself, installed it two weeks ago when I mentioned that my back hurt from sitting in regular chairs.
Now I spend most of my afternoons here, watching the clan go about their business, feeling like I finally belong somewhere.
The green chair is inside, positioned by the fireplace where I can curl up and read on cold evenings.
The leather couch we picked out is there too, and the oak dining table, and the cherry wood bedroom set.
Every piece of furniture we bought that day at Cozy Corner, arranged in a home that’s really, truly ours.
But it’s not the furniture that makes it home. It’s him.
“You’re doing it wrong.” Ronan’s voice carries across the yard from where he’s bent over Tolin’s truck.
“I’m doing it the way I’ve always done it.”
“Which is wrong.”
“Just because you’re Alpha doesn’t mean you know everything about engines.”
“I fixed your mate’s car, didn’t I?” Ronan straightens up, wiping his hands on a rag. “The one you ripped the door off of?”
“Are you ever going to let that go?”
“Never.”
I smile, watching them bicker. They’ve been at it for an hour now, arguing about everything from spark plugs to oil filters to whether the truck needs new brake pads. Neither of them is willing to back down, neither willing to admit the other might have a point.
Some things never change.
The sound of footsteps on the path makes me look up. Mother Lenora is walking toward the cabin, a covered dish in her hands.
“I brought pie,” she announces, climbing the porch steps. “Apple. Your favorite.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know.” She settles into the chair beside my swing, setting the pie on the small table between us. “But you’re growing my grandcub. The least I can do is keep you fed.”
I laugh, rubbing my belly as the cub kicks again. “He’s definitely growing. I think he’s doubled in size this week alone.”
“The boys are always big.” She nods toward Tolin and Ronan, still arguing by the truck. “Those two nearly broke my back before they were born. Worth it, though.”
“Was it?”
“Every ache, every pain, every sleepless night.” Her eyes soften as she watches her sons. “You’ll see. The moment you hold him, you’ll forget all of it.”
Tolin glances over at us, and even from this distance I can see the way his expression shifts when he looks at me. The hardness in his face melts away, replaced by something warm and wondering. Like he still can’t believe I’m real.
“He looks at you like you hung the moon,” Mother Lenora says quietly.
“He looks at me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.”
“Can you blame him?” She reaches over and pats my hand. “He spent five years alone on that mountain, convincing himself he didn’t need anyone. Then you showed up and turned his whole world upside down.”
“I didn’t do anything special.”
“You saw him.” Her voice is firm. “The real him. Not the grumpy bear everyone else sees. You looked past all that and found the man underneath. That’s not nothing, Imani. That’s everything.”
I blink back the sudden sting of tears. Pregnancy hormones are no joke.
“Besides,” she continues, her tone lightening, “you got him to come home. I’d been trying for five years with no luck. You managed it in a week.”
“He wanted to come home. He just needed a reason.”
“You were the reason.” She squeezes my hand. “You and that baby. His family.”
A loud clang from the truck makes us both look over. Ronan has dropped a wrench, and Tolin is laughing at him while his brother curses.
“They’ve been like this since they could walk,” Mother Lenora says with a sigh. “Always competing, always arguing, always trying to prove who’s better.”
“Does it ever stop?”
“Never.” She smiles. “But that’s how you know they love each other. The day those two stop bickering is the day I start to worry.”
Ronan retrieves his wrench and points it at Tolin threateningly. “One more word and I’m letting your truck fall apart.”
“You wouldn’t dare. You love this truck.”
“I tolerate this truck. There’s a difference.”
“You rebuilt the engine yourself.”
“Because you were too stubborn to let anyone else touch it.”
“Because no one else knows what they’re doing.”
“I’m the Alpha of this clan, Tolin. I know what I’m doing.”
“Then prove it and fix my damn spark plug.”
Mother Lenora shakes her head fondly. “Impossible. Both of them.”
“Runs in the family, I think.”
She laughs, bright and warm. “You might be right about that.” She stands, brushing off her skirt. “I should get back. I’ve got bread rising at home. But I’ll be by tomorrow to check on you.”
“You don’t have to check on me every day.”
“I know.” She leans down and kisses my forehead. “But I want to. You’re my daughter now. That’s what mothers do.”
She heads down the porch steps, pausing to say something to her sons that makes both of them duck their heads like scolded children. Then she continues on the path toward her own cabin, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my belly and my ridiculous mate.
I watch Tolin work on the truck, his shoulders flexing as he leans over the engine, his face set in concentration. He’s still grumpy. Still stubborn. Still the most difficult man I’ve ever met.
But he’s mine. Every scarred, stubborn, impossible inch of him.
I think about who I was seven months ago. Lonely. Guarded. Building a life piece by piece because I didn’t believe anyone would ever do it with me. I had my shoebox of savings and my dream of a green chair and a heart full of walls I thought would never come down.
Then I met a bear who was even more guarded than I was. A man so determined to push everyone away. He destroyed my car, crushed my phone, and tried everything he could think of to make me leave.
Instead, I stayed.
And somehow, in staying, I found everything I never knew I was looking for.
As if sensing my thoughts, Tolin looks up from the truck. His eyes find mine across the yard. I feel it all: warm and steady and sure.
He says something to Ronan that I can’t hear, then starts walking toward the cabin. Toward me.
“You’re supposed to be fixing the truck,” I call out as he climbs the porch steps.
“Ronan’s got it.” He settles onto the swing beside me, the wood creaking under his weight. “I needed to check on you.”
“You checked on me twenty minutes ago.”
“That was twenty minutes ago.” His hand finds my belly, spreading wide across the swell where our son is doing somersaults. “How’s my boy?”
“Busy. He’s been kicking me all day.”
“That’s my cub.” His face splits into a grin, the same ridiculous proud grin he gets every time he feels the baby move. “Strong already.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one he’s using as a punching bag.”
“Want me to talk to him?” He leans down, putting his mouth close to my belly. “Hey in there. Stop beating up your mother.”
The baby kicks harder, right against Tolin’s hand.
“I don’t think he’s listening,” I say dryly.
“He’s stubborn. Gets it from you.”
“Excuse me? I’m not the stubborn one in this relationship.”
“You stayed in my cabin even after I crushed your phone and ripped your car door off. That’s stubborn.”
“That’s determination. There’s a difference.”
He laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest, and pulls me closer. I lean into him, resting my head on his shoulder, watching Ronan wrestle with the truck engine.
“He’s still looking, you know,” Tolin says quietly.
“Looking?”
“For his mate.” He nods toward his brother. “Every new person who comes to town, every stranger who passes through. He’s always watching, always hoping.”
“He’ll find her.”
“I know. But the waiting is hard.” His grip on me firms. “I waited thirty-two years. Thought I’d be alone forever. Thought maybe fate had forgotten about me.”
“Fate has bad timing,” I agree. “But it got there eventually.”
“Eventually.” He presses a kiss to my hair. “And now I have everything I never knew I wanted. A mate. A family. A home.” His hand strokes my belly. “A son.”
“And a mate who kept you fed and safe through hibernation,” I add. “Don’t forget that part.”
He huffs out a laugh. “How could I forget? You wouldn’t let me lift a finger for four weeks. Bossiest caretaker I’ve ever had.”
“You loved it.”
“I loved you taking care of me,” he admits, his voice going soft. “I’d never let anyone do that before. Never trusted anyone enough.”
“And now?”
“Now I know what it feels like to be safe with someone.” He kisses my temple. “To be home.”
“A very active son who won’t stop kicking,” I say, steering us back to lighter territory before I start crying again.
“He just wants to meet us. Can’t blame him for being impatient.”
I smile, closing my eyes, letting the peace of the moment wash over me. The swing rocks gently. In the distance, Ronan curses at the truck while clan members walk past on the main path, waving at us as they go.
This is my life now. This impossible, wonderful, chaotic life.
“Happy?” Tolin asks, the same question he’s been asking me since the day we met.
“Yes.” I open my eyes and look up at him, at the scar on his face and the love in his eyes and the claiming mark on his neck that matches the one on mine. “I didn’t know it was possible to be this happy. I didn’t know this kind of life existed.”
“It exists.” He cups my face, tilting it up so he can kiss me softly. “And it’s yours. Ours. Forever.”
“Forever,” I repeat against his lips.
The baby kicks again, hard enough to make us both laugh. Tolin pulls back and looks at my belly with so much love it makes my heart ache.
“Come on,” he says, standing and offering me his hand. “Let’s go inside. You can sit in your chair and put your feet up while I make dinner.” He grabs the pie his mother brought from the table.
“You’re going to burn the eggs again.”
“Probably.” He grins as he helps me up. “But I’m getting better.”
I let him lead me inside, to the cabin we’ve made ours.
I sink into the velvet cushion, the same cushion I touched reverently in the furniture store all those months ago. Tolin drapes a blanket over my legs, kisses my forehead, and heads to the kitchen to start dinner.
Through the window, I can see Ronan still working on the truck, his breath fogging in the cold air. Beyond him, smoke rises from chimneys throughout the clan territory, families settling in for the evening.
My family now. My clan. My home.
I rest my hands on my belly, feeling our son shift and settle inside me, and let myself breathe.
Seven months ago, I was alone.
Now I have everything.
A grumpy bear who loves me. A family who accepts me. A community that welcomed me with open arms. A home I never want to leave.
And sitting in my perfect green velvet chair, watching the man I love burn eggs in our kitchen, I finally understand what it means to belong.
This is my happily ever after.
And it’s even better than I dreamed.