Beau exhales slowly, his chest rising against my back. “It does.”
I close my eyes, letting that settle.
There’s one more match left; one more night where everything will be poured onto the ice—every instinct, every ounce of strength, every piece of discipline they’ve built all season. After that, things will change. They always do.
I don’t know exactly what comes next. I don’t know when—or if—I’ll extend the bond further. I don’t know how the future will reshape us, or what it will ask of us in return.
But tonight, I know this:
I’m happy. Genuinely, deeply happy. Wrapped in warmth and laughter and the quiet certainty of being chosen: not owned, not claimed out of fear, butwanted. Supported and seen.
Beau may be the one who officially claimed me, but Connor and Theo are woven just as surely into my heart. Into my life.
Into this strange, beautiful pack we’re still learning how to be.
I shift slightly, earning a chorus of sleepy protests.
“Don’t move,” Connor mutters.
Theo smiles against my hair.
“She’s not going anywhere.”
*
The diner is quiet in that late-afternoon way: after the lunch rush, before anyone starts drifting in for pie and coffee. The windows are fogged from the cold outside, the heat turned up just a little too high, and there’s a low murmur of conversation that feels more like background noise than anything you’re meant to listen to.
I slide into a booth by the window and shrug out of my jacket, tucking it beside me. Vinyl squeaks under my weight. A mug of coffee appears not long after, black and steaming, and I wrap my hands around it without thinking, letting the warmth sink into my palms.
This is new for me. Being alone like this, and not feeling lonely.
I glance down at my phone, where Sasha’s name lights up the screen.
okay but ARE you actually happy or are you doing that thing where you lie to yourself really convincingly
I snort softly and type back.
I’m actually happy. Like… annoyingly so.
Three dots appear immediately.
terrifying.
who are you and what did you do with my emotionally guarded best friend?!
I smile to myself, something warm settling low in my chest. I don’t even have to think about the answer.
I’m someone who has a pack now.
The thought still feels surreal when I let myself sit with it. I think about Beau in the mornings, half-awake and warm, grumbling when I steal the blankets. Connor sprawled across the couch like he lives there now—because, honestly, he kind of does. And Theo’s quiet presence, always hovering just at the edge of things, watching, waiting, steady as stone.
Mine.
The bell over the diner door jingles softly as someone new comes in, and a moment later, Bev slides into the booth across from me without asking, balancing a pot of coffee like it’s an extension of her arm.
“Well,” she says, topping up my cup. “Look at you.”
I glance up, amused. “What?”
