A promise of what could be. The words echoed in my head as I bent back over my sewing, my fingers moving through the familiar motions while my mind wandered.
The project in my lap was a secret. Something I'd been working on for weeks, stealing time at Marley's whenever I could. Four small pouches, each one carefully stitched with a different pattern — antlers for Reid, sunflowers for Kol, pine trees for Nolan, mountains for Sawyer.
Gifts. For my pack. For my Alphas.
I'd never made anything for anyone before. Had never had anyone to make things for. But ever since the nesting, ever since waking up surrounded by their warmth and their scent and their love, I'd felt the urge to create. To give them something tangible. Something that said what I wasn't quite ready to say out loud.
"Those are coming along nicely." Marley leaned over to look at my work, her gray braid swinging forward, her eyes crinkling with approval as she examined my stitches. "Your stitches have gotten much more even."
"I had a good teacher." I held up the pouch I was working on — the one with pine trees, Nolan's — and examined my work critically, tilting it toward the light.
"Do you think they'll like them?" The question came out more vulnerable than I intended, my voice soft with uncertainty.
"Darling." Marley reached over, patted my hand with weathered fingers, her touch warm and grounding, her eyes soft with understanding. "Those boys would love anything you gave them. You could hand them a pile of rocks and they'd treasure it forever."
I laughed, the sound surprised and genuine, warmth blooming in my chest.
"They're good men." The words came out soft, certain, my eyes dropping to my sewing, my fingers resuming their careful work. "All of them. Even when they drive me crazy."
"That's love." Marley's voice was knowing, her eyes twinkling with wisdom, her needle moving in steady rhythm through her own fabric. "When someone can drive you absolutely insane and you still want them around. When you can see all their flaws and choose them anyway."
Love. The word settled into my chest, heavy and warm and undeniable.
"Yeah." I whispered, my eyes dropping to my sewing, my fingers suddenly clumsy on the needle, my heart beating a little faster. "I think it is."
The walk home was quiet, the early autumn air cool against my skin, carrying the scent of fallen leaves and wood smoke from distant chimneys. The ranch spread out before me as I crested the hill — the main house, the barn, the paddocks where horses grazed peacefully in the afternoon light.
Home.
The word felt different now than it had a few months ago. Bigger. Fuller. Weighted with meaning it had never held before. I paused at the top of the hill, looking down at the place that had become my world, thinking about the four men who had become my everything.
Reid, with his quiet strength and fierce protection, who had shown me what it meant to be claimed.
Kol, with his warmth and joy and endless capacity for laughter, who had taught me that happiness wasn't something to be afraid of.
Nolan, with his gentle hands and steady presence, who had healed wounds I hadn't even known I was carrying.
Sawyer, with his silence and his intensity and his hard-won trust, who had shown me that some things were worth waiting for.
Four Alphas. Four pieces of a puzzle I hadn't known I was solving. Four hearts that beat in time with mine.
I wanted them. All of them. Not just for now, not just for comfort, not just for survival. I wanted to bond. To wear their marks, to carry their scents forever, to be theirs in the most permanent way possible. The thought should have scared me. Should have sent me running the way I'd run from everything else in my life.
As I stood on that hill, watching the sun sink toward the horizon, feeling the lingering warmth of their scents on my skin and the steady pulse of their love in my chest, I felt nothing but certainty.
I want to bond. All of them. Forever.
The words stayed silent, locked behind my lips, not quite ready to be spoken out loud. But they were there, settling into my heart like seeds waiting to grow.
Soon, I promised myself. Soon I'll be ready to say it. When I did, I knew exactly what their answer would be.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
ASTER
I felt it before anyone said a word — a tension in the air, a sharpness to the scents around the breakfast table that made my instincts prickle with unease. Reid's jaw was tight, his coffee untouched and going cold beside his plate. Nolan kept glancing at his phone, his brow furrowed with concern, his pine scent carrying notes of worry that made my stomach clench. Even Kol was subdued, his usual brightness dimmed to something quieter, more watchful, his golden eyes lacking their usual sparkle as he pushed eggs around his plate without eating.
Sawyer wasn't there at all.
