He gestured to the nest. “Sit.”
I did, crossing my legs at the ankles. He dropped down beside me, not touching but close enough to radiate heat. He took a deep breath, staring at his hands, and then—almosttender—reached for my boots. I jerked back on instinct. He stilled, waiting. When I didn’t protest further, he tugged them off, one by one, setting them upright against the sofa. Then he lifted my bare feet and set them on his lap.
He ran a thumb along my instep, finding a knot there and working it loose. My eyes closed on their own.
“They’re so fucking ignorant,” he said so quietly I almost missed it. “That group of them, anyway. The way they look at you. The things they said. They thought I couldn’t hear them, but I did. There’s a reason they were inside instead of out with the other women. They’ve burned all their bridges with them. None of the other women can stand that little clique. But, I’m not sayin’ other women won’t talk, Prima. They will.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing.
His grip tightened a fraction. “If you want to leave, I’ll take you wherever you want to go. But if you stay, I won’t let anyone harm you. Not again.”
His jaw worked side to side, the vein in his neck visible. “I know I’m the worst of them.”
A thousand responses crowded my tongue, but none seemed right. I wanted to ask why after all this time; he cared. I wanted to ask what happened to the man who used to laugh with me on the lakeshore, who said I had eyes like Texas wildflowers.
Instead, I asked, “Why did you let me go, Jess?”
He looked like I’d slapped him.
He didn’t answer right away, just kept kneading my foot with the careful brutality of a man who’d learned to heal with his hands only after he’d broken everything worth fixing.
Finally: “I didn’t let you go. I didn’t have a choice.”
He dragged his palm down his face and exhaled hard. “After that night at your house, your dad told me you’d changed your mind. That you were gone and weren’t coming back, ever. That you didn’t want a wolf with nothing to offer, not when you couldhave a future. I tried to call, but you blocked my number. Your mom wouldn’t even let me on the property after that. I thought you had been given a choice, and you chose another life. That you’d right and truly rejected me.”
“But it’s not true,” I said, hating the desperate note in my voice.
He nodded, slow. “I know thatnow. But back then? You were gone, and I was filled with rage. I left for deployment early. Didn’t look back. I figured if I wasn’t good enough for you, I’d make myself good enough for someone, or die trying.”
He traced a circle on my heel, eyes locked on the motion. “Spent the next five years doing exactly that. Recon, then Delta.”
He looked up then, and his eyes were dark, almost black. “That’s where Bronc found me. I served with him. When he became Alpha of Iron Valor, he asked if I wanted to join him here. Told me I could have a pack, a purpose, something bigger than my own pain. I’ve been here ever since, and it’s here I’ve found my true family. I don’t get back to Rising Moon to see my parents and siblings very often anymore. I’ve tried to bring them up here, but for some reason they’d rather wallow in their poverty down there.”
“But you never stopped waiting,” I said. It wasn’t a question.
He shook his head. “Not really. I had no idea how you’d ever make it back to me. I tried to move on, but once you know your mate is out there somewhere, there is nobody else. So no. I never stopped waiting.”
We sat in silence, his hands moving up to my ankle, thumb pressing small, perfect circles into my skin.
“When I saw you that night in the club, I was on recon for an op. I couldn’t believe it,” he said, voice low. “I thought we’d made eye contact. Did you see me?”
I nodded my head.
He smiled, crooked and sad. “Before that, when you were dancing, it wasn’t like you noticed anyone. You were just… in the moment. Lost in the music. For a second, I thought maybe you were happy.”
My throat closed. “I wasn’t. I never—”
He cut me off. “I know. When you finished, I saw you rush off stage like you couldn’t get away fast enough. I knew you didn’t want to be doing that. I knew you were made for more.”
His hand moved up to my calf, massaging the muscles there, working out tension. “That’s when I knew you were still mine. That you’d never stopped being mine.”
I let the words settle over me, heavy and warm.
His hands stilled, holding my leg in place. “I know you’re scared. I know you think you’re broken, and I haven’t done a single fucking thing to help put your pieces back together. But if you’ll give me another chance; giveusanother chance, I’d like to try.”
He pulled me onto his lap my legs draped to the side, careful as if I might shatter. He settled me against his chest, arms circling my waist. I could hear his heartbeat through his shirt—strong and steady. I could feel the heat of his skin, the tremor in his muscles.
For the first time, I let myself lean into him, just a little.
