"Good plan." Maddox pauses outside the office door. "You really think the Kanes are good for her?"
"I think they're exactly what she needs," I say honestly. "And I think she's exactly what they need. They're all broken in their own ways, all trying to figure out how to live again after loss. Maybe they can help each other heal."
Maddox smiles, warm and genuine. "I'm glad. She deserves to be happy. And those kids deserve to have her in their lives. Did you see Isaac's face when she made those chocolate chip pancakes last week? Like she'd performed a miracle."
I laugh despite the heaviness in my chest. "She's good with them. Natural. Vincent tried to convince her she'd be a terrible mother, that she was too broken and selfish to take care of anyone. But look at her now. Those kids love her, and she loves them right back."
"She's going to be amazing," Maddox agrees. "Now go deal with Hayes before he sends out a search party."
I knock on the Colonel's door, mentally preparing myself for whatever lecture is coming about missed deadlines and proper procedure. But even as I walk into the office and start making excuses about the training schedules, part of my mind is still on that pink phone and the hundreds of hateful messages stored in its memory.
Vincent Reeves is a problem that needs solving. And I'm going to make damn sure he never gets close to my sister again.
Even if I have to destroy him to do it.
The meeting with Colonel Hayes drags on for nearly an hour, covering everything from training rotations to budget allocations to some new initiative from higher up that requires mountains of paperwork. By the time I escape, my head is pounding and I'm seriously considering retiring early just to avoid this bureaucratic nightmare.
Maddox is waiting at my desk when I get back, his expression serious. "Hunter left about twenty minutes ago. Said he needed to talk to Silas and Wyatt about something important."
I don't need to ask what that something is. Hunter's going to show them the phone, show them exactly what kind of threat Vincent represents. Part of me wishes I'd kept it to myself, handled it quietly without involving the Kanes. But another part, the part that knows I can't protect Amelia from everything alone, is glad they're being brought into the loop.
"How bad is it going to get?" Maddox asks quietly.
"Bad," I admit, sinking into my chair. "Vincent's escalating. The messages are getting more violent, more specific. He's not going to let this go. Eventually, he's going to show up in town looking for her, and when he does..."
"When he does, we'll be ready," Maddox finishes firmly. "All of us. The Kanes included. Amelia's not alone anymore, Dylan. She's got an entire pack of people ready to protect her."
"I know." I rub my hands over my face, exhaustion pulling at me. "I just wish she didn't need protecting. Wish she could just be happy without having to look over her shoulder constantly."
"She will be," Maddox says with the kind of certainty I wish I could feel. "Give it time. Let the Alphas court her properly, let her build a life with them. Vincent will slip up eventually, and when he does, we'll have him. And then Amelia can finally breathe."
I want to believe him. God, I want to believe him so badly.
But I've seen what Vincent is capable of. I've seen the bruises he left on my sister's skin, the terror in her eyes when she showed up at our door in the middle of the night. I know exactly how dangerous he is, how unpredictable.
And I know that before this is over, Vincent Reeves is going to regret every single thing he ever did to my sister.
Wyatt
It's been nearly two weeks since Amelia started staying later, since that conversation on the couch where I asked to court her properly, and I still can't quite believe this is real. That she's real. That every evening when I come home, she's there in the kitchen making dinner or in the living room helping Riley with homework or on the floor playing trucks with Isaac, and she looks up when I walk in with a smile that makes my chest feel too tight.
She's blossomed. That's the only word for it. The shadows that used to live under her eyes have faded, replaced by a warmth that makes her whole face light up when she laughs. And god, she laughs now. Real laughs that come from her belly, not those careful, controlled sounds she used to make like she was afraid of taking up too much space with her joy.
The kids are completely in love with her. Isaac follows her around like a devoted puppy, always wanting to show her something or tell her a story or just be near her. Riley has started opening up in ways I haven't seen since Evie died, talking about her feelings and her fears and her hopes for the future. Last week she told Amelia she wanted to be a teacher when she grew up, so she could help kids learn to read like Amelia helps her. The pride on Amelia's face had made my throat tight.
Dylan and Maddox have been over for dinner almost every night, the six of us adults plus the kids crowded around the table in a way that feels like family. Dylan watches his sister with this mixture of relief and protectiveness, like he's glad she's happy but still ready to destroy anyone who threatens that happiness. I get it. I'd be the same way if I had a sister.
Even Hunter and Silas are slowly opening up to her, though they're both more cautious than I am about showing it. Hunter's walls are so high and thick it's a miracle anyone gets through them, but I catch him watching Amelia when he thinks no one's looking. His expression goes soft around the edges, that grief-carved hardness melting into something that looks almost like hope.
Silas is less obvious but no less affected. He brings her tea in the afternoons, makes sure she's eaten lunch, finds excuses to be in whatever room she's in. I haven't missed the way his hand lingers when he passes her something or the way his eyes track her movements across a room like he's afraid she might disappear if he looks away too long.
They haven't truly initiated anything yet aside from that one time. No kisses stolen in hallways, no whispered invitations. But it's only a matter of time. I see the way they watch her, the hunger and tenderness mixed together in their gazes. And the way she smiles back at them, soft and a little uncertain, tells me the only thing holding her back is her ingrained belief that she doesn't deserve all of this. That she's somehow not worthy of being wanted by three Alphas who are falling for her faster than any of us expected.
I'd talked to Dylan about it last week over beers after dinner, just the two of us on the back porch while everyone else was inside. He'd been quiet for a long time, turning his bottle between his hands, before finally looking at me with those serious eyes.
"Don't hurt her," he'd said simply. "That's all I ask. Don't hurt her and make sure that smile stays on her face. She's been through enough. She deserves to be happy."
"I won't," I'd promised, and meant it with everything in me.
