“No,” she whispers.“I didn’t.”
I can feel the shift inside her, subtle and growing, like a seed cracking open after a long winter.The pack gathers around us, a soft semicircle of fur and exhausted limbs.No one stares at Aria like she’s fragile.No one looks at her like she’s an outsider.
They look at her like she’s one of us.
Marc limps forward and grins.“Damn, cat woman.Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
Peyton smiles weakly from Godrick’s arms.“She saved me.”
A ripple of energy moves through Aria’s shoulders, pride, fear, and hope all tangled together.The pack feels it too.
And for the first time since she arrived ...they bow their heads to her.
Respect.
Recognition.
Her breath stutters, eyes glistening.
I step closer.“Come home with me.”
Aria looks up slowly.“Your ...home?”
“Yes.”My voice drops low, deep.“Mine.If you’ll come.”
There’s no hesitation before she nods.
****
My home is nestledat the edge of the woods, a sturdy log cabin reinforced with steel plates and old pack magic.It smells like cedar, smoke, and the faint lingering scent of my dire wolf.
Aria steps inside with cautious curiosity.
I watch her as she walks through the doorway.Her shoulders rise and fall like she’s adjusting to air that tastes different.
Safe air.My air.
“This is...”She looks around slowly.“Warm.”
“It’s yours if you want it,” I say softly.
Her breath catches.“Silas...”
“I mean it.”
She moves deeper into the cabin.Touches the back of the couch.Brushes her fingers over the bookshelves.Stops beside the fireplace, running her fingertips along the stone.Every brush of her skin against my space sends pulses through the bond.
Soft and warm but growing.
When she turns to face me, her eyes are bright.“I don’t feel afraid in here.”
I swallow hard.“Good.This is your home, too, and you should never be afraid in your own home.”
“I feel...”She hesitates, searching for the word.“Safe.”
My breath leaves my chest.Her next words land like a blow and a blessing all at once.
“And I feel like you’re proud of me.”
