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 herhead 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.
