“Cole, can you show our guests to their rooms?” Knox asked.
Cole nodded and stood, gesturing for Ryder and his group to follow him.
Knox caught Cole’s arm as he passed. “And then you rest,” he said firmly. “That’s an order.”
Cole looked like he wanted to argue, but he nodded reluctantly.
“Thank you again,” I said to Jasmine as she stood. “For coming all this way. For helping us.”
She reached across and squeezed my hand. “We take care of our allies. If you need anything, just ask.”
The Moonfang wolves followed Cole out of the room, and gradually everyone else dispersed too. Hunt clapped Knox on the shoulder before leaving. Noah gave me a small smile and a nod. Knox’s father stood, gave us both a curt nod, and headed out as well.
And then it was just Knox and me.
We walked out of the pack building together, the afternoon sun warm on my face. The fresh air felt good after hours in that stuffy conference room.
“That was a lot,” I said quietly.
Knox made a sound of agreement, his hand finding mine and intertwining our fingers. “Too much. But at least we have allies now. And information.”
We walked in silence for a few moments, heading back toward our house. My mind was still processing everything I’d learned, trying to fit the new pieces into the puzzle of my fractured memories.
“Knox?” I said softly.
“Yeah?”
I bit my lip, suddenly nervous. “I think I’m ready to see her. The baby.” I swallowed hard. “I want to hold her. Meet her properly.”
He stopped walking and turned to look at me, his gray eyes searching my face. “Yeah?”
I nodded, my heart beating faster. “I’m ready.”
Knox’s expression softened, a mix of hope and tenderness crossing his features. He lifted our joined hands and pressed a kiss to my knuckles.
“Then let’s go see Sarah.”
The walk to Sarah’s house took about fifteen minutes. Knox told me along the way that she had moved to Ravenshollow shortly after returning from her vacation, wanting to help me with the twins and the baby and the pregnancy. Her house was smaller than ours but cozy, with flowers in the window boxes and a welcome mat at the door that said “Wipe Your Paws.”
I snorted when I saw it. “Did you get her that?”
“Hunt did, actually. He thinks he’s hilarious.”
“He’s not wrong.”
Knox knocked on the door and we waited. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it. What if I held my baby and felt nothing? What if I couldn’t connect with her?
The door swung open and there she was. The elderly woman from the hospital, the one who had grabbed my face and cried when I woke up. Sarah. My grandmother in every way that mattered.
“Lina!” Her face lit up and she pulled me into a hug before I could say anything. She smelled like lavender and fresh baked bread, and the scent triggered a flash of memory. Standing in a kitchen, flour on my hands, a younger version of this woman teaching me to knead dough.
“Sarah,” I breathed, and tears pricked at my eyes.
She pulled back and cupped my face in her weathered hands, studying me with those kind eyes. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”
“Better,” I admitted. “Some memories have been coming back. Not everything. But some.”
“That’s wonderful.” She smiled, genuine and warm. “The rest will come. And even if it doesn’t, we’ll make new memories. That’s what we do.”
