Beside me, Holly leans her head on my shoulder again, her scent warm and content, tinged with the same anticipation I’m feeling.
“Almost home,” she murmurs.
I press a kiss to the top of her head, my chest tight with an emotion I’m still learning to name. “Almost home,” I agree.
The plane descends through the clouds, and I close my eyes, letting myself feel the pull of the bonds that connect me to my pack, growing stronger with every mile that brings us closer to them.
Almost home.
Grayson
The airport parking lot is a mess of slush and ice, typical for Anchorage in early spring. I navigate through the rows of cars, careful to avoid the deeper puddles that could splash up onto the truck bed. Don’t want Holly and Noah’s luggage sitting in frigid road water.
“They’re not going to disappear if you don’t keep checking your phone,” I tell him, glancing at the device clutched in his hand.
“I know that,” he mutters, but checks it again anyway. “I just want to make sure their flight landed okay.”
“It did. Twenty-two minutes early, just like I said.” I turn into the short-term parking area, scanning for an open spot. “And yes, I already texted Noah to let him know where we’ll meet them.”
Kai huffs out a laugh. “Sometimes I forget how freakishly efficient you are.”
I don’t respond to that, focusing instead on parallel parking between a massive SUV and a compact car that’s taking up more than its fair share of space. Kai winces as I maneuver the truck with precision, coming within inches of the SUV’s bumper.
“Perfect,” I announce, putting the truck in park.
“Show-off,” Kai grumbles, but there’s no heat in it.
We make our way through the parking garage toward the terminal, Kai practically vibrating with excitement beside me. I keep my own anticipation contained, though the alpha in me is just as eager to see our mates after three long months.
The arrivals area is crowded with people waiting for loved ones—families with handmade signs, limo drivers holding tablets with names, tour guides in matching jackets. We find a relatively clear spot near the security exit and settle in to wait.
“Do you think they’ve changed?” Kai asks suddenly, his voice uncharacteristically serious.
I glance at him, noting the slight furrow between his brows. “In three weeks?”
“You can change a lot in three weeks,” he insists. “Remember how much Holly changed in her first few weeks here?”
I consider this, remembering the frightened, secretive woman who arrived in Heat Mountain, desperate to hide her omega nature.
“She didn’t really change, though. Just finally let the real her see the light of day.”
Kai nods, but continues fidgeting, his eyes fixed on the security exit. I resist the urge to put a steadying hand on his shoulder, knowing he needs to work through his nervous energy in his own way.
A fresh wave of travelers emerges from the security checkpoint, and Kai straightens, scanning the crowd. I spot them first—Noah’s height making him visible above the other passengers, Holly’s dark hair gleaming under the fluorescent lights as she walks beside him, their hands linked.
“There,” I say, nodding in their direction.
Kai follows my gaze, and his entire demeanor changes. The anxiety melts away, replaced by pure joy as he raises his arm in an enthusiastic wave.
“Holly! Noah!” he calls, drawing the attention of nearby travelers.
Holly’s face lights up when she spots us, and she tugs on Noah’s hand, pulling him through the crowd toward us. I hangback, letting Kai surge forward to meet them, watching as he sweeps Holly into a spinning hug that lifts her off her feet.
“You’re crushing me,” she laughs, but her arms tighten around his neck, belying her complaint.
Kai sets her down only to pull Noah into an equally enthusiastic embrace, which Noah returns with more restraint but genuine warmth. I approach more slowly, savoring the sight of them together, whole and safe and here.
Holly breaks away from Kai and comes to me, her eyes bright with happiness. “Grayson,” she says, and just my name in her voice is enough to loosen the knot of tension I’ve been carrying for three months.
