It wasn't a place. It wasn't four walls and a roof.
It was her. It had always been her.
And now, finally, she was his.
Chapter 10
Jules
Christmas Eve
Five weeks later, Jules stood in the middle of her childhood home and marveled at how much could change in such a short time.
The kitchen where she'd once waded through floodwater now gleamed with fresh paint and new cabinets. The pipes behind the walls had been completely replaced—not just patched, but upgraded to modern standards. The floors that had warped and buckled were now smooth hardwood, salvaged from a barn two towns over that Adam had somehow known about. Even the old furnace that had wheezed and clanked through every winter of her memory had been replaced with a system so quiet she sometimes forgot it was running.
And she hadn't paid for any of it.
Oh, she'd tried. She'd argued and protested and flat-out refused, but it turned out that wolves were just as stubborn as she was. More so, actually. The pack had descended on her house like a furry construction crew, and every time she'd attempted to write a check or hand over cash, someone had conveniently lost it, or returned it, or—in one memorable instance—eaten it.
"That was Lex," Riko had told her with a completely straight face. "He gets peckish."
She still wasn't sure if he'd been joking.
"You're going to freeze standing there with the door open."
Jules turned to find Lex leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her with those amber eyes that still made her stomach flip. He wore a dark henley that stretched across his shoulders and jeans that did very nice things for his thighs. A month of being mated to him, and she still couldn't quite believe he was hers.
"Just taking it all in," she said. "It looks so different."
He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her from behind, his chin resting on top of her head. Through the bond, she felt his contentment, warm and steady like a banked fire.
"Different good or different bad?"
"Different good." She leaned back into his warmth. "I keep expecting to see the water stains on the ceiling or hear the faucet dripping. But it's all just... fixed."
"That's what pack does." His arms tightened. "Takes care of its own."
Its own. She was pack now. Not just Lex's mate, but a member of the Central Colorado Pack in her own right. Riko had made that official two weeks ago, in a ceremony that had involved a lot of howling and very little clothing. She'd stood in a clearing under the full moon while wolves circled her, and instead of being terrified, she'd felt... welcomed. Accepted.
Like she finally belonged somewhere.
"We should head over," Lex said. "Faye will kill us if we're late."
Tonight was the pack's Christmas Eve gathering at Adam and Faye's place. Her best friend had been planning it for weeks, determined to merge human holiday traditions with whatever wolves did to celebrate the winter solstice. The result, according to the group text Jules had been added to, would involve "food, booze, and absolutely no fighting unless it's over the last piece of pie."
Jules grabbed her coat and the basket of homemade cookies she'd spent all afternoon baking. Lex took the basket from her—he always took things from her, always insisted on carrying whatever she held—and ushered her out to his truck.
The drive to Adam and Faye's was short, the roads finally clear after weeks of snow. Christmas lights twinkled from every house they passed, and somewhere in town, she could hear carolers singing. Snow Ridge at Christmas was like something out of a Hallmark movie, all cozy charm and small-town magic.
She loved it. She'd always loved it. But this year, for the first time, she wasn't watching the magic from the outside.
She was part of it.
"You're doing that thing again," Lex said.
"What thing?"
"The thing where you get quiet and I can feel you being all happy but you won't tell me why."
