I’d left Eyrie in a blur of shadows and sorcery, but arrived in Dairyville under a sky so clean it almost hurt. The air here was a dry slap—bright, unfiltered, heavy with nothing but sun and the faraway promise of rain. I should’ve felt exposed. Instead, I felt lighter. Like I’d been exhumed.
There were people waiting. Three of them. The first was the Alpha, no question. I knew before my eyes adjusted. He was aslab of a man, the kind you could build a courthouse out of. The sunlight caught the silver in his beard and the blue in his eyes, making him look both ancient and brand new. Next to him was a woman so tiny I thought at first she was a kid until she turned and revealed a belly you only get when you’re six months along with twins or an eight-pound linebacker. She wore a yellow sweater dress and a pair of tall brown boots.
I was the last off the plane. Jess tried to hang back like he wanted to help me walk, but I felt the gravity of him even with his hands in his pockets, jaw locked, staring at new grass springing up through the rocks. The bond between us had gone from silent to symphonic since the rescue, the notes all muddled together: rage, panic, a lust that made me want to laugh and cry in the same breath. Underneath it all, a bleed of hope so sharp it bordered on delusion.
The wind whipped my dress against my knees as I descended. My legs nearly gave out, but I steadied myself, chin up. The Alpha met me at the bottom, his shadow eclipsing mine. For a second, I thought he might go for a handshake. Instead, he just nodded, blue eyes taking in every inch of me; the mess of my hair, the bruises, the scab on my lips where I chewed them to pieces.
“Welcome to Iron Valor,” he said, voice deep enough to rattle my bones. “I’m Bronc. I’m the Alpha of this pack, but this is the real boss.” He jerked a thumb at the blonde.
The woman closed the gap in three quick steps, grabbed my hands, and pulled me into a hug that left no room for protest.
“You must be Harper,” she said into my shoulder. “We’re so glad you’re safe.” She pulled back and gave me a once-over, the look that said she’s already picking out pajamas for you and warming soup on the stove. “I’m Juliet, the Luna of this bunch. But if you call me Mrs. Baucaum, I’ll bite you.”
I tried to muster a reply, but my voice didn’t want to cooperate. I heard myself croak out a “Thank you,” and a tear slipped down my face.
Juliet didn’t flinch. She gripped my hands tighter and shot a glare at the two men, daring them to say a word about it. “Ignore them,” she whispered, big smile on her face. “They’re tough, but they turn to jelly when a woman starts sniffling.”
Behind her, Bronc gave an eye roll so practiced it probably counted as a legal signature. “I’m serious, Harper. You’re safe here. And I’m not just saying that for show.” He let the silence hang for a second, then added, “We know you must have been through hell. Some of us have lived through our own versions of it. Iron Valor isn’t like those other packs.”
My throat ached. “I—I know,” I managed, forcing the words out through gravel. “Thank you for letting me come here.”
He crouched a little to meet my eye. “You’re one of us, if you want to be. But after the last few months, we have to ask for a small courtesy.”
I tensed, bracing for a contract, a test, or a tracker in my neck.
“It’s nothing bad,” Juliet rushed to add, waving a hand. “Just a pack vow. Old-fashioned, I know, but we got burned a while back. Some wolves turned traitor, and nearly all of us were killed. So now Bronc asks everyone new to swear it. Just a loyalty thing.”
Bronc nodded. “It’s just words. Of course, there’s pack magic attached to it. But you should know the drill. You swear to honor the pack, not betray it, and protect your brothers and sisters if you can. That’s it.”
The tension in my shoulders bled away. I looked between them—Bronc with his hands behind his back, waiting with the patience of a father, and Juliet, vibrating with nervous energy and some kind of fierce, maternal fire. I wanted to belong here.Maybe more than I’d wanted anything since I was twelve and still thought ballet was magic.
“I’d be honored,” I said, and meant it.
Juliet grinned like she’d won a carnival prize. She squeezed my hand, then glanced at Bronc. “Go on, big guy.”
Bronc placed a hand on my head, gentle as a benediction. His palm was warm, but I felt the static charge of Alpha power even through my hair. “Repeat after me,” he said.
The vow was simple, and I didn’t trip over any of the words. I didn’t realize until halfway through that my wolf was echoing each phrase, a low harmony under my breath. When it was done, Bronc removed his hand and smiled, the lines around his eyes deepening.
“Welcome home, Harper,” he said, and for the first time in years, I felt like I actuallywashome.
Juliet looped her arm through mine, steering me away from the jet and the others who had flown with us. She walked me across the tarmac, moving at exactly my speed, never too fast or too slow, as if she could feel the tremor still working its way through my nerves. We got to the edge where the grass line started; where the world shrank to the hush of insects in the air.
She was all business now. “You must be running on fumes. We have a room ready for you upstairs in the new pack house. It’s not much yet—Maddie, Bronc’s sister, tried to decorate it, but she’s got no taste, bless her. You’ll get some time to rest, and then I’ll come up and see if you want something from the kitchen. If you’d rather be alone, just—”
“I’ll be with her,” Jess barked from behind us, too loud in the sudden quiet.
Juliet stopped so abruptly that my inertia nearly toppled us both. She turned, boot toe to boot toe with Jess. There was a full foot and a half of height difference between them, but she stared him down like she owned the planet and all the air above it.
“Last I checked, Arsenal, you haven’t yet claimed this woman. That means she gets to decide where she wants to be. Are we clear?” Her Midwest accent came out thicker now, along with the beginnings of a Texas drawl and something more lethal underneath.
Jess’s jaw bunched. He looked at me, then at Juliet, then back at me. “She’s not safe unless she’s with me.” His tone was respectful and quiet.
Juliet arched an eyebrow so high it nearly left her forehead. “Bullshit. That might be the case, but I think you might just want to keep her in a box so you can watch her. Maybe you want to be sure she stays put. Be sure you really just want to keep her safe, buddy and aren’t worried about control. I won’t allow choices to be removed. Not in my pack.”
The power in the air was thick enough to chew. I felt my wolf stir, trying to make sense of the signals. Jess’s bond screamed at me: panic, shame, and a hunger that made my thighs ache. Juliet’s, on the other hand, was a blanket of calm fury—clean, maternal, but with a knife edge under the surface.
Bronc strolled up, hands in his pockets, face unreadable. He leaned down and whispered something into Juliet’s hair, then kissed the side of her neck. Instantly, her hackles flattened. She grinned, relaxed, and shook her head like she’d just remembered it was a party and not a murder trial.
