Chapter 4 #2
The tavern door opened.
I felt it before I saw her—a shift in the room’s air. Kai went from easy to present in one breath, fully.
Roses. Warm and familiar in a way that belonged to a different chapter of my life. Sweet, but over.
Jelisa.
She looked the same. Green eyes — not the sharp, clear green of Destiny, but softer. She had always been that way, warm and yielding. She had been good, and what we had was good, and I had ended it as carefully as I knew how.
She left the compound for a year, returned three days ago, and I kept my distance, hoping her return meant she had found solid ground and was ready to be part of the pack.
She crossed the tavern to our table as if she'd spent a year deciding what to say.
I straightened. Opened my mouth to say something measured.
Her hand found my arm — a slow glide from elbow to wrist, familiar and deliberate. She leaned close enough that the roses were right there.
"I see you're still unbonded, Delta." Her voice was low, not cruel, almost sad, in a way that might have moved me once. "I've been thinking about that. Thinking about you."
I stepped back.
Or I started to before the tavern door opened behind me.
Daphne and honeysuckle.
I turned.
***
DESTINY
Sage did not let me come alone.
I never asked her to come with me. She arrived twenty minutes after Ty left, wearing that decision-making expression and showing no interest in listening to arguments.
I looked at her. Then at her stomach. Then back at her again.
“Don’t,” she said immediately.
So, we walked.
She talked the entire way—briefing on updates, the attackers, and the next steps—anything that kept the conversation structured and safely away from the one thing she knew I wasn’t ready to say out loud yet.
I let her.
The night air cooled my skin, but it didn’t lift the weight in my chest. The closer we got to the tavern, the heavier the weight settled.
He was fine. Of course he was. Ty was always fine—except tonight, he almost wasn’t.
Except tonight, he almost wasn’t—and that difference stayed with me in a way I couldn’t ignore.
The tavern came into view, warm light spilling out across the path, voices carrying through the door, a mix of laughter and movement.
Sage stopped, her hand on the tavern door, and looked over at me.
“You ready?”
“I’m always ready.”
She gave me a look that said she didn’t believe that for a second.
I gave her one right back.
She shifted her hand to her hip and tilted her head at me as if she had known me long enough to recognize deflection at a glance.
Yeah. I knew that look, too.
“I messed up, I know, and I’m going to fix it, Sissy,” I muttered.
Her expression softened.
“I know you are.”
She opened the door.
The shift hit the moment I stepped inside.
My eyes found the back left corner without effort.
Found Ty.
And found her.
Jelisa.
Her hand rested against his arm, sliding down slowly, as if she remembered the shape of him and wasn’t ready to forget it.
She was beautiful, with soft curves and a sweet face, dressed sweetly in a soft white sundress and matching sandals.
I went still, not because I was surprised. I knew Jelisa and her history with Ty. I knew they had shared time and space. None of that shocked me.
What caught me off guard was the sensation that moved through my chest as I stood there, watching her touch him.
Not anger. Not exactly.
I understood anger. Anger had structure, direction, and usefulness. This felt different. Sharper. Like suddenly realizing how much something matters after a single terrible second of imagining losing it.
Ty turned then.
His eyes found me instantly, as they always did, as if every room reorganized itself to find me first. And what crossed his face wasn’t guilt or panic.
It was a relief. Quiet. Immediate. Deep enough that I felt it before I fully recognized it.
Jelisa’s hand still rested against his arm.
Ty stepped back. Calm. Deliberate. Certain. He created space between himself and her touch without hesitation, and his eyes never left mine as he did.
I started walking toward him, steady, measured, without rushing the distance.
Not fast. Not dramatic.
I saw Carter freeze near the pool table, watching me as he decided whether it would turn into entertainment or violence. Darius was calm but alert, assessing the possible outcomes. Marcus looked at Sage, patted his thigh twice, and smiled as she swayed over to sit on his lap.
And I did something I had not planned. No strategy. No calculation. No emotional preparation beforehand.
I reached up and held his face in both hands, firm enough to ground him, certain enough to leave no room for hesitation. I pulled his forehead to mine.
The room. The noise. Or the history standing three feet away. None of it mattered in that moment.
Only him.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” I said quietly, just for him. “You deserved better than the choice I almost made. I wasn't moving like I had someone waiting for me anymore. And I do.”
Something shifted across his face immediately. I felt it before I fully saw it, the slow release of the tension that had been coiled inside him all night finally easing.
His hands came up over mine. He lifted my chin and kissed me softly.
Behind me, I heard Carter mutter something low to Darius, followed by what sounded suspiciously like relief escaping from Darius’s chest.
I never looked away from Ty. I didn’t need to; he was my only focus. The only one that mattered in that room.
“Let’s go home,” I said.
His gold eyes held mine for another second before his gaze dropped to my mouth. The tension in his jaw eased, and when he looked back at me, warmth was there again. Real warmth.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Let’s go home, Angel.”