Chapter 38, The Anchor’s Peace
Wren (Ghost)
A week had passed since the Serpent’s Neck, and the mountain had finally stopped screaming.
The snow fell in thick, silent blankets over Ember-Fell, muffling the world outside.
I stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass of the living area, wrapped in a heavy wool sweater that swallowed me whole.
It smelled like cedar, old leather, and the comforting musk of the three men who had become my world.
I looked at my reflection in the dark glass. My eyes were still different; the gold did not vanish when I shifted back. It remained as a shimmering, molten ring around my pupils, a constant reminder that Ghost was present all the time.
The heavy sliding doors hissed open behind me. I did not have to turn to know who it was. The air grew warmer, charged with the scent of rain-drenched pine.
We had spent the last seven days in a strange, careful dance.
No one shared a room; the suites remained separate territories.
Despite the way our wolves hummed in unison, we were in a state of suspended animation.
We all knew the laws of the Night-Stalkers.
The spiritual bond was there, but the mating bond was waiting.
It was waiting for my first heat to officially wire our lives together.
Skarde, Torin, and Rhys walked in, mid-argument.
“I am just saying,” Rhys was saying, his voice full of mock-offense, “that for a man who spent ten years eating raw venison and sleeping on gravel, you have become very particular about the thread count of your pillowcases, Torin.”
Torin let out a low, huffing sound, his arms crossed over his chest. “It is called efficiency, Rhys. Better rest leads to better performance.”
“Oh, please. You are soft,” Rhys teased. He stepped into Torin’s space, grinning like a fox. “You have gone from a Beta who eats rogues for breakfast to a man who checks the thermostat three times a night to make sure Wren is not chilly. You are practically a house-cat now. Admit it.”
“I am not a house-cat,” Torin growled, though there was no heat in it.
“Prove it,” Rhys challenged. “Give me your best Beta glare. The one that makes scouts wet themselves.”
Torin tried. He narrowed his eyes and set his jaw, but his gaze kept flickering toward me, softening instantly.
Rhys let out a bark of laughter. He reached up, grabbed the front of Torin’s shirt, and yanked the big Beta down. Before Torin could protest, Rhys planted a loud, exaggeratedly wet kiss right in the middle of Torin’s forehead.
“See?” Rhys chirped, releasing him and dodging the half-hearted shove Torin gave him. “The ‘Big Bad Beta’ is officially compromised. You are basically a giant teddy bear with a tactical vest. It is embarrassing, really.”
Torin wiped his forehead, scowling, but his eyes were dancing. “You are a menace, Rhys. A genuine liability.”
The tension in the room snapped, replaced by a low, easy warmth as I walked toward them, my bare feet silent on the heated floor. I did not stop until I was standing in the center of their circle.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “For the thread count. And for the thermostat.”
I turned to Rhys first. I leaned in and pressed my lips to his cheek.
His skin was hot, and his playful smirk softened into something much deeper.
Next was Torin. I reached up, my hand resting briefly on his shoulder as I kissed his cheek.
He smelled like woodsmoke and iron, his body tensing under my touch with a restraint that spoke of a week spent keeping his distance out of respect.
Finally, I turned to Skarde. He was watching me with a violet gaze so intense it felt like a touch. I stepped into his space, stood on my tiptoes, and pressed my lips to his cheek.
I felt his large hand settle at the small of my back, grounding me, but he did not pull me closer than was proper. Not yet.
“We are in unknown territory, are we not?” I asked, my voice barely a breath.
“It is our territory,” Skarde murmured, his voice a low rumble. “We will learn the map together, Wren. One day at a time. We can wait as long as you need.”
I looked at the three of them; my Alpha, my Beta, my Gamma. My pack. We were a weapon waiting for its trigger, a pride waiting for its queen. I leaned my head against Skarde’s chest, feeling the other two shift closer until we were a single, solid unit.
Outside, the wind howled across the Black-Spines, but I was exactly where I was meant to be.