“Guys… where are we?”
No one answers. Which is completely unfair. My heart’s trying to punch through my ribs, and they’re just sitting there like this isn’t the most intense suspense of my life.
The truck rolls to a stop. The engine cuts out. Doors open, slam. I sit there, blindfolded and motionless, until Ford says gently, “C’mon.”
Warm hands—Hayes’s, I think—close around mine, tugging me out of the truck. My boots hit solid ground, and the smell of earth and trees wraps around me. There’s a whisper of wind across my face, cool enough to make me shiver.
“Careful,” Ford murmurs at my back as his hands steady my hips.
We walk. The gravel underfoot gives way to smooth boards. A porch, maybe? My mind is a storm of questions, but then we stop, and silence stretches so long I can hear my own breathing.
And then… Beck. He’s the one who always calms me, always makes everything else fade to background noise.
“You ready, Lo?”
My throat is dry. “For what?”
He doesn’t answer. Just slides the blindfold off with slow, careful fingers.
The night bursts into view all at once. Moonlight, shadows, and right in front of me, a house. Not just a house. A home.
Big and beautiful, white siding glowing under the porch lights, windows warm with golden light spilling out. A wraparound porch that looks like it was built for long summer nights and quiet mornings. And all of it… for me?
My breath catches. “What… what is this?”
Beck steps into my line of sight, his eyes locked on mine like there’s no one else in the world.
“It’s ours,” he says simply. “Your home, Lo. Our home.”
Something inside me splinters. Breaks open in the best way. Because for so long, I’ve been drifting. Half-waiting for the other shoe to drop, half-believing I don’t getthis. Safety. Belonging. Them.
“You…” I bite my lip, trying to keep it together. “You did this? For me?”
His jaw tightens, and his eyes shine dark and steady. “For you. For us. For the pack.”
Ford moves up beside me, his hand brushing mine, grounding me in that quiet, steady way of his. Hayes is on my other side, grinning from ear to ear.
I press my hands to my mouth because I swear, I’m going to cry, and Hayes leans down, murmuring at my ear, “Told you it wasn’t a kidnapping.”
I laugh, shaky and wet, and Beck takes my hand, guiding me up the steps.
“Come on,” he says, and there’s a fierce tenderness in his words that undoes me completely. “Let me show you your new home.”
I let him lead me, because there’s nothing else I can do but follow. My feet move, my heart pounds, and every part of me feels weightless and heavy all at once.
Because this is real. This is ours. And I’m not afraid of what comes next.
The door swings open, and the first thing I see is the living room. A cathedral of sunlight and soft leather, windows soaring up to the ceiling.
Hayes throws his arms out. “Welcome to Casa de Awesome. Population: us.”
Ford groans. “Ignore him.”
“Excuse me,” Hayes says, strutting ahead like he’s on a runway. “I worked very hard on this vibe.”
“What vibe is that?” I ask, eyebrows up.
“Luxury wilderness chic.” He flops onto the couch, big enough to land a small plane, and sprawls vastly. “Perfect for movie nights. And naps. And maybe a little?—”
